Only in the context of predestination could those dream-visions make sense.
He lifts my fisted hand, pushes my sweater’s sleeve to my elbow, and trails warm, soft lips along my inner wrist. Then he twines the length of the ribbon around the lingering imprint of his kisses, winding his own bared wrist into the loops, until we’re fused as one, my now-opened palm facing his, our fingers entwined.
“We’re destined to be lovers, Rune. Connected by the thread of our shared soul through space and time. Now that we’re united, no matter the where or the when, or whatever circumstances come between us—that cord will stretch to accommodate it all, pliant and giving. It may tangle, but it will never snap. We will always be tethered. Always find each other again . . . because it’s fated to be.”
My blood burns hot, the veins bright and luminous under my skin. Etalon’s veins flare in response. As if ignited by our combined surge, the ribbon catches fire on our arms. I don’t even blink because the flames don’t hurt, although they blaze through a rainbow of auras. Only when they fade to the purest white do they snuff away on smoky tendrils.
The ribbon’s crimson stamp remains—a visible coiling tattoo on my left wrist and forearm, mirroring the image on his right—while leaving us free. As we pull our arms apart, I still feel the tug between us . . . an internalized bond that can’t be broken.
I gasp and smile, looking up into his face. Returning my smile, he catches my hips and draws me to him, long legs cradling either side of my body. I move my hands along his shirt, learning the hard planes of his chest and stomach over the soft fabric. He groans and his fingers slip to my nape and clench my hair, forehead pressed to mine. His breath is scented with an elixir of emotions—smoke and honey and rose petals. I shut my eyes, drifting to the stars as I breathe him in.
His lips hover inches from mine—a torturous tease of sparking currents just out of reach—but he jerks away at the last minute. My eyes pop open, vision clouded and unfocused. In the distance, at the other end of the roof behind the auditorium’s cupola, rises a cacophony of sound.
Someone or something has been watching us. My mind is too fuzzy to react, my body too swept away by sensation and awe to move. I’m a trapped rabbit, helpless against the wolf closing in.
20
UNEARTHLY ENTANGLEMENTS
“It is the dim haze of mystery that adds enchantment to pursuit.”
Antoine de Rivarol
Thorn stood—nerves abuzz—rocking from his soul-deep reunion with Rune after all these years of being apart. So close to tasting his name on her lips. But even with the frustration of that loss, he couldn’t deny how potent the surge had been between them. He’d never felt such a pure electric thrill. His body stung from the inside out—alert, alive, ignited.
He helped her up and motioned toward the door. She wavered in place, absently rubbing the ribbon’s burn imprinted on her arm, unable to budge. She was dewy-eyed enchantment shrouded within her white aura of innocence and wonder—lost and confused. He’d given her too much too fast. He should’ve stopped with the information about the violin; her mind hadn’t been ready for the unity ritual this soon. But Erik had forced his hand.
Thorn kept his sights on the green-lit cupola in the distance, his body planted firmly in front of Rune, waiting either for the spy to reveal himself, or for Rune to recover enough to get back inside, where he could keep her safe for at least one more day.
He’d explored the roof when he arrived but failed to check the cupola’s secret passage. By then, he could think only of making everything perfect, of winning back Rune’s trust and feeling her in his arms without time or space between them, of her breath catching on his face—both of them bared of masks and lies.
Most of the lies.
He hadn’t outed Erik’s plan yet. He couldn’t, not until he’d confirmed or negated what he’d come to suspect after that cryptic discussion with Erik in the lab a few hours earlier.
Thorn had always believed the universe lined up every event that brought Rune into his path. But now, it was starting to appear that the universe had help. That Erik had been using Thorn’s connection to Rune from the very beginning to summon her to this place, in this time.
You have served me well over the years. His father’s melodious taunt writhed and pricked inside Thorn’s brain, an earworm with a serpent’s bite. You’ve brought her this far when no one else could have.