Let him mark me. Let him brand me. Let the whole world see that I belong to him and him alone.
I’m tired of hiding, concealing, fearing the unknown.
It’s time to fly. Really fly.
My legs tighten around his waist as he rolls his hips against mine, sweeping his tongue across my bottom lip.
He’s everything I’ve searched for. Everything I’ve ever wanted.
And he’s my home. Not a place, but a person.Myperson—the one the gods created just for me.
The other half of my soul who crossed kingdoms and broke through enemy lines just to hold me again. And as his mouth moves against mine, I know with absolute certainty that this is what the poets write about, what the minstrels sing of—this all-consuming, world-shattering love.
“Annora,” he says as he breaks our kiss. “I thought of you every moment. And I searched everywhere for you. When I couldn’t find you...” The usual strength in his voice falters,replaced by a roughness, an urgency, as if he needs me to know how much he longed for me. “The thought of losing you...”
I cup his face in my hands. “I’m here now.”
Those intense eyes lock with mine, burning with emotion, with love. “I need you to know something. Everything I am, everything I have—it’s yours. It’s been yours since the moment I fell in love with you.” His grip tightens, anchoring me against him as he continues. “When I thought I’d lost you, I realized something. I don’t just want you. Ineedyou.”
He needs me?
How ironic when I’m the one who falls apart when he’s not near.
Every day, without him, I try to live, to thrive, but it’s nearly impossible to add bricks of happiness when all I’m handed is glass. Not mortar. Not bricks. Just glass. So much glass.
How fragile it is. How breakable.
One small rock, one careless action, one wrong word, and I will shatter.
“You’re my fire,” I say as I smile at him.
“I’m a fire?”
Using my index finger, I trace the line of his jaw. “Yes, but not the destructive kind that burns everything in its path, but the kind that warms a hearth and guides lost travelers home.” I press my forehead to his shoulder. “And I was so lost without you.”
A creak echoes from above, and I gasp, jerking my eyes to the ceiling.
“You need to go,” I say, though every fiber of my being screams against sending him away. The alternative is tooterrible to contemplate—Asha finding him, locking him up, then executing him.
“No.” Jasce’s jaw sets in that stubborn way I know too well. “I’m not leaving without you.”
I hold my palms against his chest. “You know I can’t leave. The binding...” My voice catches in my throat. “I am tethered here.”
“Then, I’ll kill Aleksander,” Jasce says through clenched teeth.
“Please, Jasce. You have to go.”
He stiffens and lowers me to my feet.
“Are you angry with me, Jasce?” My heart aches, throbbing inside my chest. “Do you blame me?”
His expression softens. “No. Never. I’m furious with my brother.”
My hands tremble as I cup Jasce’s face again. “Go, Jasce, and I promise I will come to you at the stables,” I say, guessing that he’s probably staying at the same place as last time.
Instead of listening to me, he pulls me against his chest. “Your place is with me.”
“I know it is.” I fist my fingers around his surcoat, holding on to him. “But I have to fix this first. What Aleksander did...” I can hardly think about what he did—how he tricked me inside of The Hollow and bound my magic to him.
