As she stretched onto her toes and deepened the kiss, her soul left her body, reaching for him as it always did. The moan he exhaled against her lips echoed in her core, her heart—everywhere.
Then he picked her up by the backs of her thighs and carried her to the bench. As he sat her down and got on his knees, Emmery’s heart stopped.
“I wish I had a ribbon to tie on your fingers, but I’m a tad unprepared.” He twisted his mouth to the side, then tore a strip off his tunic. “Sa mi allette. Sa mia corra. Si meavi.”
Her eyes widened.
“Be my heart. My home,” he whispered, and took her hand. “Marry me.”
Everything faded away except the night breeze through the tent, and the thud of her rampant heartbeat. He gazed up at her as if he thought she would say no.
As if that was even in the realm of possibilities.
“Since you asked so nicely,” she managed, though her voice broke.
He smiled so brightly that his sunshine banished any memory of her prison of darkness. Carefully, he wove the fabric between her three middle fingers, and tied it off best he could. Wet warmth trailed her cheeks, and she hadn’t realized she was crying until he took her face in his hands and wiped the tears away.
“I want all of them,” she said softly. “Every way you can be mine.”
He cocked a brow. “All?”
“Whatever you’ll give me.”
Dez only gazed at her like a man glimpsing the shore after drifting lost at sea for a lifetime.
CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE
EMMERY
In addition to the one Dez had created, there were four bonds. After Emmery confessed how she’d discovered their incompatibility for animplexusbond, he offered a sad smile and kissed the tip of her nose. He explained from his knowledge, they likely would have known long ago anyway, and that it didn’t hinder his affections. She refused to think of her bond with Shade. Refused to let it ruin their night.
With thetreae, or allegiance bond, they ran into a few problems. Between the required witness and Dez’s demand to not, underanycircumstances, share her tonight, especially as time ticked down until sunrise, they decided to delay it. Since itwas unheard of for Kings to take an allegiance bond, they would have to seek the Council’s approval. Though Emmery told him they could simply forgo it, Dez assured that, for her, he would do anything. However, for the other bonds, they both didn’t want to wait.
“The strength bond, orsterke,will allow us to pool magic as a reservoir,” he said. “Most dab a drop of blood on their tongue and agree on a phrase. Then you simply choose a spot for the bond and draw it in blood.”
She fiddled with his fingers cradled in her lap. “I want it over my scar. Over my heart.” Since he’d been her strength all this time, it seemed fitting.
For a brief second, his eyes unfocussed, but he quickly blinked it away. He released a heavy breath and a bit of his sunlight clouded over.
Her chest twinged with worry. “You’re not changing your mind, are you? Is this too fast? Should we—”
“Of course not.” He stood and tugged her up with him, then met her gaze with such unwavering affection the twinge faded. “You don’t know how badly I want this. There’s nothing I want more than you, Em. Just the idea of anyone harming you is unbearable.”
“You needn't worry. I can take care of myself.” Her eyes wandered to his damp shirt clinging to his sculpted shoulders, and she grinned. Not wanting to fuss with his buttons, she ordered, “Now, arms up.”
“Bossy,” he teased. A sinful smile claimed his mouth as she struggled to lift it over his head. When she glimpsed his scars, she lost her breath.
With his two magics, she shouldn’t have been surprised, but Dez wasn’t Hollow or Fallen. Because he was both. The same as her.
AShadowheartwrithed in the center of his chest like it stretched for hers. Something indescribable and alluring drew her finger, and she traced each circle on hiscavae. Dez’s breath hitched, and he trembled as the thorns wrestled beneath his skin. Gently, he circled her wrist and brought it to his mouth. He grazed his teeth along her palm before he pressed a kiss there.
“If you do that, we won’t make it any further,” he said. “It’s taking all my self-restraint not to strip you down right now.”
She peered up at him, a sly smirk on her lips. “What’s stopping you?”
“You, my darling angel”—his fingers found the first button—“are a devious woman.”
She giggled and drew her dagger from the sheath at her thigh. “I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about. I’m perfectly innocent. Practically a saint.” She emphasized each word with a twirl of the blade, while he worked her buttons. When he finished with the last, he skimmed his fingers down the exposed strip of skin, savouring every inch until he reached the band of fabric around her breasts. His eyes blazed like the epitome of night as he tugged it off. He kissed her cheek, her neck, trailed down to her collarbone, and she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, could only sink into him, his warmth, and his air.