Page 41 of Synnr's Ride

He could feel her inside of him. He was used to the power of his spark. It had been with him since he was born. He'd summoned his wings during his first week of life. He knew the exact extent of his power, from how high he could jump and land safely, and how far he could shoot to take out a target.

Now there was a well of power, but it wasn't his. He could feel it, but there was something blocking it, an invisible barrier that he knew he could reach through.

If he dared.

But a Match wasn't a bond. To fully seal the bond with Hanna, Jori would have to reach through that barrier and access her power, and she would have to do the same. If they did that, their combined power would grow exponentially until they were a nearly unstoppable force.

Nearly.

After all, he'd just helped beat a Matched man, though he had no idea where Fally's partner was.

Jori let go of Hanna's hand and looked at the bandage on his own arm. His skin was free of tattoos. Most unmatched Synnrs left an arm bare, just in case they ever found their Match. If he and Hanna bonded, they'd get Matching marks done, tattoos powered by their own spark that lit up the skin like bolts of lightning.

If.

Zilly poured him and Hanna each another drink and Jori knocked his back, even as Hanna drank slower. He had to slow down, he knew. This was the job, and getting drunk put them both at risk.

Already his vision was going a bit wobbly around the edges, and part of him was tempted to pull Hanna close and kiss her, to claim her here in front of the crew.

But he didn't want to share her, didn't want to share the moment.

Almost more than he wanted to kiss her, he wanted to talk. And wasn't that strange? His prior relationships involved a lot of fun, but not a lot of conversations, and nothing deep. He didn't know if any of his previous partners were looking for Matches, and he was certain none of them were looking for anything serious with him.

That was how he liked it.

Or how he used to.

Now he just wanted Hanna. However he could have her.

Hanna slid off of her chair and onto his lap, wrapping an arm around him and burying her face in the crook of his neck.

"You look like you've been stabbed by a Spark Sword. Now smile and pull me closer." Her tone was even.

How could she be thinking so clearly at a time like this?

But Jori wrapped an arm around her and kissed her neck for good measure.

"Now pick me up and tell Kark we're going home to celebrate." Her arm tightened in anticipation.

Jori stood quickly, kicking the leg of his chair so it fell over. Hanna's legs wrapped around his waist, and he grinned over her shoulder and down at the others.

"This girl needs to be shown just what a Match means." He squeezed her ass and knew he'd pay for that later, but it made the man cackle. "Sorry, Zilly, my girl might be a bit late for work tomorrow. If she can still walk."

He walked out of the bar, holding Hanna in his arms, and didn't stop until the sounds of filthy laughter faded and all that was left was his Match.

14

Hanna's bloodwas buzzing with possibility, and it needed to stop right now. If she concentrated, she could feel Jori's power, could reach for it and use it for her own.

That would be a disaster. They weren't bonded. A Match was only a possibility. And they needed to figure things out before they took any desperate steps.

"How did you cut your hand?" Jori asked once he'd locked the house up for the night.

Hanna had her comm out along with the keyring, but the mention of her cut had her thinking about his injuries. Without saying a word, Hanna grabbed the med kit from the bathroom and set it out on the kitchen table.

"Sit down," she told Jori.

He held up his arm. "It's fine. No need for that."

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