Page 110 of Of Vows and War: Special Edition
As if to prove just how divine my pleasure could be with him in control, Bellamy brought my legs up against his chest, urging my ankles to cross behind his head with his hands before leaning forward again. The new angle brought me to the brink of madness, my mind toeing the edges of sanity. I had been there often, but this was freeing, whereas it once felt caging.
Bellamy devoured and demolished me, tearing me down and remaking me into something that was entirely his. Maybe we were even one in that moment.
When he had filled me up until I was dripping his release, I watched him pull out slowly and inspect his work. A grin stretched his face as he used his finger to attempt to force more of it inside of me. From where he knelt before me, the light of the candles and the moon outside his window cast eerie shadows upon him, reinforcing that image of him earlier. He was a fallen god, a shattered Eternity, the Underworld in living form.
I loved him so fucking much.
As always, his loving nature was impossible to deny. Soon he was sweeping me up and cleaning me in our tub. He ran his fingers through my hair, scrubbing my scalp and lathering soap within the strands. This one was not the vanilla that I preferred, but some sort of lovely combination of our scents. Vanilla and cinnamon, the barest hint of smoky undertones there in the depths.
He cleaned me, even offering me an entire tray of mint leaves to chew on as he went. Again and again, Bellamy made sure I was reminded that heknewme. There were no pieces of my shredded and blackened soul that he did not intimately understand. Not all of it came from his time learning me before we met. I often caught him watching me, even now, as if I were a puzzle that might suddenly have a single piece missing.
“You know me well,” I whispered, letting my fingers slide against his knee beneath the soapy water. Moments of serenity like that were so rare, but I thought then that we might get more if we could make it out of the war alive. If we were strong enough to survive what was to come from not only Mia, but Padon too. Bellamy and Stassi had a lot to say about him and what he would do to us all.
“As you know me. That is part of being soul bonded.” My back stiffened. Whipping around to face him, I took in his look of nerves. My mental gate shook against the onslaught of thoughts from within Pike, but it was Bellamy’s terror and love that rattled the golden lock and blood-red chains.
“What do you mean? You think we are soul bonded? Is that not a thing that the gods—I mean, high demons do?”
“We have always known it could happen to demons, but I never realized fae could experience it too. Stassi seemed to insinuate it was something that could happen to anyone. She said we were, and I am inclined to believe her. It feels…right.”
Oh it did. That incessant and infuriating tug towards him. The way it felt as if I were becoming whole the first time we had sex. How his mind and our love always tasted like home upon my tongue.
“It does not actually mean anything, Asher. We are not forced to be together. It just means our souls…they sing to one another. The idea behind it is that we are all born as half, and then we find our missing piece. Adbeel says it is not alwaysromantic either. A friend or a youngling or a mentor can be a soul bond. Love, it is not limited in the way many think it. And you are not stripped of your free will, either. Yes, soul bonds are thought to be fate’s design, but destiny does not choose, we do. I choose you, Ash. No matter what, it is you. Do you choose me too?”
“Of course I do. You are everything, Bellamy.”
“The beginning, the end, and every moment in between?” he asked teasingly. I nodded with a chuckle, wrapping my arms around his neck. “We will have time to think more about it when this mess is over.”
“You know, I fear the moment when the war is over and life is that simple. There will come a point when no one, not even you, will need me. And I do not know what I will be then.” My whispers seem to strip Bellamy of his carefree smile, stealing his peace and replacing it with an air of seriousness.
“Free, Ash. You will be free.”
Chapter Forty-Six
Bellamy
Calista was already in my Haven manor when I arrived, running her fingers across the kitchen countertops. She had always loved this space. It was more hers than mine.
“I miss it. Life here was so lovely,” she murmured, her tone wistful. My nod was curt, my mind not wishing to remember the days before Haven was destroyed. Not when that came with the horrifying memories of all the dead as we burned their bodies and buried their ashes.
“Why did you stay?” I asked without thinking, my mouth moving quicker than my thoughts. She turned towards me, her violet eyes sharp and her short black hair sticking to her facefrom the sea water. “In Haven, I mean. You could have been portaled back to the open sea.”
Of all the things I had expected her to say, it was not what she chose. “Have you ever wished you could be someone else?”
“Daily before I met Ash,” I admitted.
“Well, I remember wishing that back then. When King Adbeel first put up The Mist, many sirens died. We watched the odd red cloud wash over the water, diving into it and coating our friends or loved ones. Their screams still echo in my nightmares sometimes,” she said, her voice strained. Tortured. It seemed all of us were these days. “By the time we even considered going on land, the king had declared the war over. We thought our chances better here than with the fae.”
“That makes sense. Did you ever consider trying to find any of your kind on the other side?”
“You were the first to welcome us with open arms, Bellamy. Before you, we were ostracized. In the minds of demons, a siren belonged with the beasts in the Forest of Tragedies. We are born of the God of Death and Creation after all.” I thought of the black blood that poured out of Captain Harligold’s siren and how it burned Ranbir. Yes, they were Padon’s creations. Raw versions without Asta’s magic to stifle them. “Plus, we have made a home here in the waters of Haven. Some even used to live in the village if you remember. From what we know of, we are the only sirens in existence. None live beyond The Mist.”
“I saw one not long ago. She is part of a pirate’s crew. She has your violet eyes.”
“Interesting. I guess I should have thought of going to look for others. I was never good at leading. Being thrust into the role was never my desire. My sister was queen for a reason, and she deserved more than death at the hands of The Mist.” She choked on a soft sob as she opened a drawer, toying with the cutlery inside.
I let my mind wander for a while, our silence comfortable. But soon, as a storm seemed to approach, I was forced to ask the question I had been avoiding. “Will you fight with us, Calista?”
“Of course we will. My sweet and wicked Stormy would have. My sister’s will is mine, even if it is just the memory of it.”
