Page 150 of Ecliptic

“Alenie Damascus,” he said with pride.

“Alenie Damascus,” I repeated, hoping in some way she could hear me. “Thank you for your son. You raised a good one. I’m honored to become a part of the family.”

“Does that mean you’ll take my name? It was my mother’s. Iknow she would want you to have it. Or I’ll take yours, I don’t care. As long as you’re mine.”

I looked at the ring on my finger. “I’ve never felt a connection to my name, and yours means so much to you. I would love to become a part of the Damascus family.”

Rowen scooped me up and spun me in the air, my legs trailing behind me. We laughed as the world rotated around us, and after a long day of tears, the sound was music to my ears.

He lowered me to his lips and kissed me, passionately. I interlocked my fingers behind his neck, feeling a wave of pure and utter contentment.

The starwings had somehow found us up on the cliff and circled us with their shimmering tails.

Rowen and I had fought so hard for this peace, and looking at his once-cursed necklace that flashed with eyes I didn’t recognize, something told me that we would have to keep fighting for it.

51

A few more days passed by as we healed and recovered.

Rowen and I had spent the afternoon packing, though, in truth, we didn’t have much to bring with us. Our belongings were few and mostly consisted of books, sketches, a few clothes, and weapons.

“Are you ready to leave for Viltarran tomorrow?” he asked as I plopped onto our mattress. The canopy and bed were all that remained in our dome.

“I am.” I smiled, perfectly encased in our haven. “I’m ready to start my life with you.”

Rowen went to one of the packed woven baskets and pulled out something long, velvety, and green.

My eyebrows narrowed in confusion, then shot up in realization. Rowen stalked toward me with smooth, braided vines. “I’ve been thinking about tying you up all day,” he said, standing at the foot of the bed. “Laid out and strung up just for me. At my mercy as I pleasure you all night.”

Anticipation and panic swirled through my body. My mouth dried as wetness pooled somewhere else entirely. I was aroused just from watching him hold the rope, and I bit my lip as weheld eye contact. “I don’t know. I wiggled out of your last knot pretty easily.”

His eyes simmered with heat, desire, and something like a challenge. He crawled onto the bed and caught my wrist, then the other. He put my hands together and held them in one of his large palms. I gulped as he wrapped the vines around my wrists, tying secure knots with adept precision.

He laid me back on the bed and lifted my bound hands above my head. My body surged with electricity as he hovered over me and tied the end of the rope to the headboard.

My chest heaved. The restraints weren’t tight enough to hurt me but not loose enough that I could escape.

“You’re mine,” he said, his voice guttural and low.

“Does it look like I’m going anywhere?” I replied with a smirk, testing the bonds that didn’t budge.

He sat back on his heels, his eyes obscenely tracing over every curve and indent of my body. “I wish you could see how you look right now. Completely and utterly at my mercy.”

“You could do anything to me,” I said as my nipples puckered beneath the thin fabric of my top.

His hands shoved up my lilac camisole, baring my breasts. He lightly grazed past my nipples with his scarred knuckles, and I shuddered as I erupted in goosebumps.

“I’m going to take my time with you, Lady Damascus,” he said, and I squirmed.

His touch lowered to my satin bottoms where he slowly, torturously, pulled them off my body, revealing my bare and aching center.

I was laid out before him like his personal feast. “I’m going to make you feel so good.”

I writhed against the binds, my hips pumping the air, searching for his hand, his mouth, anything. He chuckled darkly. The light bondage had me going crazy.

He started at my neck and kissed his way down my body. His lips brushed over my peaked nipple, and my body jolted, my hands staying in place.

I whimpered. Not being able to trace my hands along his muscled form was a different kind of torture.

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