Page 308 of Dragon Slayer

Not charges. Masters.

“Jeez.” She let out a shaky breath. “You think they’ll be ready in time?”

Val wasn’t in her head per se – wasn’t controlling her. But she knew that he could, if he wanted to. She felt his presence as the slightest weight in the back of her mind; it felt unnervingly like a collar. They were far enough from the room he currently occupied with Mia that she couldn’t hear everything, but she caught vibrations through the floorboards, and the scents of sex, and blood, and aroused vampires were strong. She would have noticed these things anyway, but now, bound to him, she felt something almost like…obligation. Maybe gladness that he was enjoying himself.

And shewasglad. She liked Val, and God knew he deserved a bit of fun after all his centuries locked away…

Fulk rubbed her back in long up-and-down sweeps. “You’re thinking very loudly.”

“It feels weird,” she confessed against the stretch of collarbone his old faded t-shirt couldn’t hope to cover.

He murmured a soothing noise. “I know. You’ll get used to it.”

She tipped her head back so she could look at him, chin resting in the hollow of his throat. His face was calm. “I thought you’d be…angstier about this,” she admitted, and he cocked a single brow. “You didn’t want this,” she said, softly, guilt welling up in her chest. “You – you’ve worked really hard to keep us unattached for a long time.” Her eyes burned. “Shit, baby, I’m sorry–”

He laid a finger against her lips. She hated to think it, knowing his thoughts on the matter, but he’d been almost serene since the binding. He was the sort of man who tried to carry the world, and struggled beneath the weight every moment of the day. Having that weight removed – passing it onto the shoulders of someone else – had smoothed the divot of stress from between his brows. “Darling,” he said, achingly sweet. “All I’ve ever wanted, from the moment I met you, was to call you mine and keep you safe.”

“Theverymoment? ‘Cause I spit on you that day. More than once.”

He chuckled. “And tried to stab me with my own knife, if I remember correctly.”

They smiled at one another a moment, remembering. So much about those early days had been awful. The war, the duke, Liam…hell, dying. Or almost. She knew he still berated himself for turning her. But she didn’t regret that, not ever. Sometimes a person had to go through hell to find the one thing she wanted to hold onto most. He was that for her. Everything else could be dealt with.

“We should try to sleep,” he said. “It’ll be a few hours more.”

“Sleep. Right. That would be smart.” She smoothed her hands up his chest. “Or we could–” The rest of her suggestion cut off into a startled laugh as he picked her up by the thighs and hoisted her onto the bed.