Page 31 of Bonepetal
Her warmth to my ruin.
The chains rattle, the candles lean, the world itself seems to pause as our blood mingles.
“Repeat after me, bonepetal,” I order.
“I release what hunts me.”
“I release what hunts me.”
“I refuse what is not mine.”
“I refuse what is not mine.”
“I take what is mine.”
Her voice shakes. She knows exactly what I’m making her admit.
“I… take what is mine.”
“Fuck, that’s pretty,” I snarl.
I raise our joined hands and breathe into the cuts, slow and deep, tasting her salt and iron. The tether hums in my veins like wildfire.
“Last part,” I murmur, voice breaking low. “Feather carries the wish, wax seals it, blood binds it, breath makes it live.”
I lay a black feather across our palms, dripping molten wax to seal it. She gasps when it bites into her skin. Shadows curl up from the altar as if they’ve been waiting for the cue, tendrils coiling across our arms, our throats, sliding down over her ribs.
The air shifts colder, wind cutting sharp through the trees, howling like wolves at the edge of the clearing.
The bond sears itself in.
Our blood. Our breath. Our fucking ruin.
She stares at it, terrified, and awed.
Perfect.
I drop the knife beside her head.
“On your knees,” I command, voice low, reverent and cruel at once.
Her eyes widen, throat working like she might argue, but she doesn’t. She moves slow, trembling, sliding off the stone until she kneels before me in the candlelight, bare skin streaked with wax, shadows coiling over her like a second shroud.
I unbuckle my belt, metal clinking sharp in the quiet, and drag the zipper down. My cock springs free, thick, veined, and already slick at the tip.
The air hits me cold, but the sight of her, waiting, trembling, eyes up, burns hotter than hell.
Her gaze climbs, mouth open, eyes wide with need, and for a breath she looks less like Salem and more like devotion made flesh.
“Open,” I rasp, fisting my cock.
Her mouth parts wider, obedient, and I feed myself between her lips. The heat of her tongue makes me groan, low and sharp,hips rolling as I grip the back of her head. She gags softly, tears brightening her lashes, but she doesn’t stop.
She takes me, eyes locked on mine through the skull’s sockets, every inch of her trembling and compliant.
“Good,” I growl, thrusting slow, deliberate. “That’s it. That’s the vow you broke being sealed back in your throat.”
She moans around me, the vibration shooting through my cock, making me shove deeper, harder, until I feel the fight give way to raw surrender. Saliva slicks her chin, dripping down her chest. My laugh rips free, guttural.
