Page 7 of Bound By Roses

“I felt it earlier. Little jolts. I know we can do it. I just need to know how.”

I let out an exasperated sigh. “Lia didn’t know how. The mention of it was vague. It was a brief entry about childbirth and how her mate went through it with her. Took as much of it upon himself as he could while she brought their son into the world. Aside from saying she wasn’t sure if she could have done it without him, there was no mention of how he did it.” I don’t mention how the entry ended, even though it could only help my case.

“Well then, we’ll just have to try.”

“Abby—” before I can tell her no, she’s up and shutting the water off. She dries my leg with a towel with careful hands, expertly avoiding ripping the stitches, though I wince at the rough fabric. The healer had been right. The slime worked wonders and took all pain away—after the application. I was hoping not to do this again so soon and, for a moment, I consider just going without it.

“It can’t be that bad,” Abby scolds.

We’re definitely inside each other’s heads more than ever before. It’s not that we can hear each other’s private thoughts unless we’re speaking through the bond, but it’s easier to just know things. I’ll have to be careful what thoughts I let slip around her, at least until the whole wraith situation is dealt with.

“It’s not pleasant,” I admit. “Just give me the jar. We’re not sharing.”

She ignores me, of course, and takes a seat on the step beside me. I can feel her opening herself up to me and I consider shutting her out.

“Don’t you dare.”

I let out another sigh. I love this woman, but she can be infuriatingly stubborn. “It’s not that bad. There’s no need for this.”

“We need to practice. If it’s not that bad, then this is the perfect time.”

There’s no way I’m going to win. I can already see it now.

I hold still as she presses her forehead against mine, just as we did the very first time we opened ourselves to each other, enough to share more than just chosen thoughts. I breathe her in, scenting the strange soap on her skin, but under it is something almost floral. It’s a scent she’s carried on her skin ever since she became Terranous’s Chosen.

When the brutal sting returns, we both suck in a breath. It’s not as bad as I remember it, and there’s only one reason for that.The tremble of Abby’s hand as she applies the vile goo is all the confirmation I need that we can in fact share physical pain. The burning sends with it small bolts of lightning that shoot up my leg and into my gut, but then it vanishes just as it did the last time.

“You’re right,” Abby says, blowing out a breath. “That sucked.” She examines the jar as if it will tell her what vile creature produced such a thing, but there’s no label on it.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“You would do it for me.”

She’s right. I would. I would take it all for her.

I think for a moment about the journal and wonder if we’ll ever have a child. Or children. Gods, I’d never even imagined that would be a possibility for me.

“Where’s your mind?” she asks, tilting her head to one side as if that will better help her decipher my thoughts.

I flash her a teasing smile. “Can’t tell what I’m thinking?”

She shakes her head, wet hair swinging around her face, a lock of it getting stuck to her cheek. “I can sense your emotions, but they’re off. I can’t place it.”

“You won’t let it go unless I tell you, will you?”

She beams. “Never.”

I chuckle and run a hand through my drying hair. “I was just thinking that there might actually be a possibility of me doing for you what Zye did for Lia one day.” Her face is expressionless, so I continue. “I’m not saying I want us to have kids. I just never realized until this moment that it was an option for me.”

Her hand slips into mine. “No talk of children until we make the world better. I’m not bringing a child into this mess.”

“Agreed.” I can live with that. I don’t even know if I want kids. Me? A father? I’ve already fucked up Fern, and I wasn’t even trying to be a parent to her. “And marriage?” Abby givesme another look, so I put my hands up in front of me. “I’m just asking.”

She looks as if a thought suddenly occurs to her. “Isn’t there some sort of mating ceremony that’s supposed to happen?”

Where is she going with this? “I wouldn’t say it’s supposed to happen. I think the flower on my chest is enough to show we’ve already bonded.”

“But if we wanted to do something? Just to make sure it doesn’t break again?”

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