Panic slammed into me.What if it has enslaved her? Like the sway.
She blinked, searching my face. “No, it’s like… Like lacing up a good pair of running shoes—”
The fear waned at her denial, but when her words sank in, the short-lived determination to hold my expression faltered.
“… that feeling, when you have them good and snug,” she said, her gesturing hand falling to rest over my heart. “That security.”
My chest eased. I felt a tug at the corner of my mouth. I cleared my throat. “Did you just compare our bond to running shoes?”
She stared at me a moment, searching for a better comparison for something so indescribable. Her brow curved speculatively. “A five-point racing harness?”
I laughed, and then pulled her closer. The words felt right in the old tongue, and I knew she would understand them. Loosely translated, the sentiment was something like, “love’s embrace,” as I spoke them low, to the only woman who would ever hear them again.
Her skin flushed and she repeated them back before leaning forward, suddenly desperate for another kiss.