Page 162 of A Fate of Blood and Magic
I felt her shift again, and when she rested her head on my stomach, I cupped the back of her head. Her fingers grazed over my chest in slow, tender strokes, careful not to go near the blisters.
This was love—to be loved and love in return.
“Do you want me to distract you with a story?” she asked.
I blinked to peer down at her from where her head still rested on my stomach. With my knuckles, I caressed her cheek.
“Is it about a fae prince who destroys your realm?”
Before getting up, she kissed my palm. And thoseincidental kisses, her touches, they were all surprisingly comforting. Before Teddy, I’d dated but never had an intended or female I saw regularly. I’d never had someone to kiss and hold when the mood struck. Yet my father and mother had been a tactile couple, so it hadn’t surprised me that I found it easy to be just as affectionate with Teddy as she was with me. But now I also understood another aspect of my mama’s grief. She’d had thousands of years of my father’s touch.And then one day, it’d suddenly stopped.
Once Teddy reached her side of the bed, she crawled toward me slowly. When she lay down, I scooted closer to her to rest my head on her shoulder. Careful not to drop the cloths on my arm, I leaned on my uninjured arm and wound my other arm around her stomach. She moved the cloths, better situating them on me before she settled against me.
“Lying like this doesn’t hurt?”
I nuzzled against her neck, wanting to savor this tender moment where Teddy took care of me. “I feel perfect.”
And I did. Being held by Teddy, feeling the love she had for me, was far more perfect than anything I could ever hope for.
“Tell me your story.”
“You’re going to fall asleep before I finish,” she teased.
“Probably.”
“Why don’t you drink from me while I tell you?” She arched her neck to the side.
My heart kicked up in reply. “Teddy . . .”
“It helps you,” she said. “Besides, I like your teeth on me.”
I groaned. She did the same when I licked her throat, her groan growing guttural when I sank my canines in her. The sweetness of her blood coated my tongue. Her taste was exquisite and distinctively her. I held it on my tongue for a few beats before I swallowed and took another pull.
She hummed, her fingers digging harder against my scalp. Suddenly, she winced, drawing in a sharp breath.
“Did I hurt you?” I asked.
She pressed the back of my head harder against her throat. “Keep drinking.” The two words seemed to tremble from her lips.
I felt her excitement race across my skin in goosebumps, so I bit her again. My eyes threatened to roll back at her taste.
Then I felt it—what must’ve caught her by surprise. With slow precision, I felt the threads of her soul braid with mine. I stilled, my lungs burning in anticipation, but the bands connecting us snapped.
“Keep drinking,” she whispered.
It took a few beats, and I was worried I’d drink too much of her blood, but I felt the way the empty spaces of my soul filled when her soul attached to mine.
It wasn’t our lost magic, but the very threads of our souls that lived inside us. They danced together, reaching and pulling one another closer, and I was certain we’d never be able to pull them apart.
Euphoria made my blood rush through my veins.
I wasn’t sure how Teddy had done it, how she’d found the missing threads and braided them back together. It felt like a dream brought to rest, like the warm moonlight of a star-filled night.
It was joy and peace. Our souls belonged together, eternally entwined with the other, with the promise of always finding each other. Whether in this lifetime or the next.
Not wanting to drain her, I pulled my mouth from her neck. Although I wouldn’t be able to heal the marks, I lapped the drops of blood that spilled from the twin puncture wounds. They sat next to the ones I’d made the previous day,and the sight of them stirred something inside me. Something primal, possessive, and needy.
I liked seeing my marks on her. Loved it, actually.
