“Jarron, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. What you figured out was true, but—I’d decided last night that I wanted to undo it. I wanted to—I wanted to choose you.”
He looks up at me with those black eyes full of suffering.
“I do. I do choose you. I don’t understand all of it. I didn’t—I didn’t go anywhere except here. I didn’t look at anything. I’m sorry I’ve been a coward. I’m sorry I’ve not been worthy of you. But if you’ll still take me—”
I hold out my wrist to him.
“If you still want me, Jarron, then claim me. Please. I trust you.”
He blinks down at my offering, my exposed wrist. The magic around him stills, his eyes pin to the supple skin.
Another tense beat passes between us, then he snatches my arm. He does not ask me three times, like he did for the first bite. This time, he sinks his teeth into my flesh like he’s a man starved and my blood is the only thing that will keep him alive.
This bite is not like the last. There is a flash of intense pain, followed by a swell of dark magic and emotional agony so intense I cry out just before the whole world disappears and leaves me falling, falling, falling into cold black waters. The last thing I recall before I’m sucked under for good is a set of dark leathery wings surrounding me.
41
EVERYTHING
I’m floating in space, neither here nor there. Lost in waves of churning magic.
I can’t breathe. Can’t speak. Can’t see.
And somehow, none of that matters because I can feel.
I am safe and warm and lost but also found. I don’t know where I am, but somehow, I am exactly where I need to be. The only place that matters.
I can’t feel my own body or his. There is no touch. No pain. No fear.
There is only comfort and pure adoration.
The universe passes by. Stars and planets, solar systems, and galaxies, so many that they blend together into a shining cloud.
The entire universe spread out before me should make me feel small. Unimportant. But there is a tug on my heart. The warmth of arms around me. And a familiar voice.
You are everything.
42
Dangerous Wonderful Bliss
I’m panting but somehow on my feet, still standing on that loft overlooking the entryway to the beach house and the patches of sand beyond the large windows. There’s a roar behind my ears like the crashing of great waves or distant anguished screaming.
“Jarron?” My lips are cracked and dry, like I’ve survived a week in the dessert, and yet, I haven’t moved an inch. His talon-tipped fingers are around my waist, his black eyes burning into mine so bright and intense I could stare into them for days and days and never want to look away.
My cheeks are wet, even though I don’t know when I started crying.
“My bright one,” he murmurs, tugging me even closer. His wings spread out behind him and then curl over us both. “I thought— I thought I’d failed.”
“You didn’t,” I promise him. “You didn’t. I almost did.”
Flashes of dark fear and rage and sadness bombard me. Flashes of moments. A sandcastle on the beach in the middle of the night. A massive castle beneath mountains. A young brunette girl—me, I realize—laughing. A beautiful blond scowling.
Pain and fear. Adoration and bliss. Determination and longing. So many feelings combining and rushing and twisting through me. My knees shake with each new surge.
“What’s happening?” I whisper.
“I’m sorry,” he says, voice still raspy. “I know it’s overwhelming.”
