My nerves jumpstarted in apprehension as Ilyan captured my hand, his own unease surprising me. I had never expected Ilyan to be so nervous, yet I could hear the frantic pulse of his heart, the trembling of his emotions.
“The braid of true love,” he whispered as he released my hand, his eyes unwavering from mine. “It is normally braided by the man after the woman consents to be his mate. The sign that she is taken. The woman receives this braid, while a man will let his hair hang free for the first time in his life, showing he is waiting for her to braid it after the bond is complete.” His eyes never even deviated a millimeter from mine as he spoke. I was sure I looked like I had been hit by a truck.
Ilyan? I asked, my nerves melding into a form of eager panic that I wasn’t sure made sense. Heck. Nothing made sense. Was Ilyan asking me to bond myself to him? Now?
“Hmmm,” Ilyan sighed as his hand moved to press against my mark, his touch soft as the jolt wound through me, his fingers continuing to run over the raised skin.
“I hold by my original choice, Joclyn. You are not ready to make a decision like that yet. I chose this braid because of how our bond has formed between us, how our hearts beat in time, how you speak to me, and how you can feel the thoughts in my heart. You see, in every transition of the hair, small hearts form, making a trail over your head and down your back…” Ilyan led my hand over the braid as he spoke, his fingers moving mine over each of the hearts that he had formed into my hair.
“One heart for every beat of mine that you own. Every single one,” he whispered as he pulled me close, his soft lips brushing against mine gently as he held me against him. I gasped, my breath trapped in my chest as I waited for more to come. His mouth moved over my cheek to my jawbone before turning to my lips, the touch as soft as a feather.
My heart pulsed faster in expectation, my hands moving to cling to his elbows in a frantic need to have him closer. I could feel his heart beat against me, the heavy bass drum of it thumping against my chest as he held me, his skin flush with my body.
He didn’t move any closer. He stayed still, his lips a soft whisper against mine.
“Kiss me,” I begged in a soft, breathless voice.
Ilyan’s breath drifted over my skin as he laughed, his fingers caressing my mark as a small surge wound its way over my spine before he pulled me into him. His lips pressed into mine as his hand wrapped around my waist, holding me against him.
My hands trailed from his elbows to his back, the feeling of his bare skin shocking. I clung to him as he kissed me, as I kissed him. My chest heaved as he pulled away, his hands still tight against my clothing, keeping me against him with his cheek pressed to mine.
I breathed deeply while the sky lit up around us, the rumble of thunder loud as it rolled through the air, the magic of the earth a raw and powerful jolt that weaved its way within me.
“Do you feel that?” Ilyan asked, his voice a whisper in my ear. “The power from the earth?”
“Yes.”
“Then I am no longer alone,” Ilyan said, his voice deep and relaxed.
The thoughts of all the time he had been ostracized because of his power filled me—the feeling when he killed his friend, as well as when he had been too scared to help those around him. The thoughts took away my breath and I clung to him, my fingers pressing into the skin of his back as I held him.
“You never were,” I breathed against his skin, my fingers running over his hairline before I kissed him.
Never.
Six
The rain had stopped falling sometime before dawn, the long streaks of water vanishing into the air as a chilled breeze took their place. I had watched for hours as the lightning struck, the abbey rumbling with every thunder clap as the storm came closer. The wind had come after the rain left, the powerful gusts driving against the barrier that Ilyan had placed over the open window frames. I almost wished it would break through.
I wanted the wind and the rain to splash against my face and to feel the magic they carried move into me. I wanted to stand still in the midst of the storm as it raged around me. I would have removed the barrier, but I didn’t want to wake Ilyan. He slept so soundly as he held me against him, his breathing calm and shallow as he dreamed, his arm a comforting weight around my waist.
I had tried to sleep, to take advantage of the calm I felt, but it wasn’t taking. So I had lain still, breathing into Ilyan’s chest while our song flowed from his lips until he had drifted away, his words fading into nothing.
I wished I could sleep, but I wasn’t tired. The Drak blood ran through me stronger than it had before, the promise that Dramin had given me of less sleep and no food ringing clear. I guess the no sleep part had finally kicked in.