Page 245 of Interion

“Do whatever you want. Draw what Serguei drew on you,” I said, positioning myself near the fireplace to escape the cold night air.

He walked up to me, then knelt at my feet, and I felt flustered by the view. He continued mixing the paint with a brush, oblivious to my gaze on the muscles that flexed beneath his skin with every small movement.

“Are you sure you want what Serguei drew on me? Maybe you'd like to choose the strokes or the runes,” he offered again, raising his eyes to meet mine.

“No. I trust his good taste.”

“Just don't complain later.”

“Should I be worried?”

His lips curved into an amused smile, and I held still as he made his first brushstroke.

Zion painted runes on my ankles and thighs, then drew three bracelet-like bands on my wrists. He tried not to look at my body, but sometimes I caught him watching when the line was straight or simple and didn't require much focus. And as tempted as I was to watch him or touch him, I held back—I didn't want impure thoughts during the rite.

After a while, he stood up, and I forced myself to stay motionless while he traced a line of paint that started between my breasts and descended to my navel. I realized it was an arrow when I noticed the pointed tip between my breasts.

Wherever his hands passed, my body shivered. I didn't say anything, but I was sure he could feel it. Sometimes our eyes met, and something like desire and confusion hung between us, but we looked away, keeping the sparks from getting out of control. Despite the lust, the moment was special in a different way—he drew with care and adoration, as if he truly was preparing me for the test, as if somehow the runes really would call the Gods' attention to protect me.

On my face, he drew a line that descended from the top of my forehead to the middle of my eyebrows—thicker at the top and tapering at the bottom. Then he dipped the brush in the paint and drew another line that started at the inner curve of my ear, passed over my cheekbone, crossed my nose, and ended at the other ear.

When we finally finished, he stepped back and went to the bathroom to wash the paint from his hands before it dried and became hard to remove. We agreed to sleep together that night because I didn't want to be away from him. The thought of being apart for three days made every moment together too precious to waste. Zion was on board, so he sprawled on my bed while I waited for the paint to dry.

Once the paint was absorbed into my skin, the smell faded. Then I pulled on a large shirt over the top and snuggled up beside him.

“Is everything okay?” I asked, propping my face on my hands and looking into Zion's eyes. He'd been so quiet.

“Yes.” He closed his eyes, looking exhausted. “I just need some time to get back to normal. The bond is taking its toll.”

I lay down beside him and laced my fingers through his, letting him recover as his breathing returned to normal.

“Thank you for being with me tonight. I know it wasn't easy,” I said softly while he kept his eyes closed. “I'll try to make you proud of me in this test—it'll be my gift to you.”

“You are my gift, sunshine. Don't worry about the test.”

I brushed away a lock of blond hair that had fallen over his face and chest. With my index finger, I began tracing circles around the misshapen scar—about three inches across—on his chest, a smile spreading across my lips.

“I think I already have an answer to your question about where to sleep,” I said.

Zion opened his eyes.

“Tell me.”

“Mandrocina.”

He considered the word, then shifted on the bed and smiled.

“I knew you'd find the answer. Tell me what you learned,” he said. The tension between us melted away. In that moment, we were just a teacher and a student.

“It's a tree from the Drutes forests. When they get old, the top becomes hollow and the tree starts dying from the top down. In the Drutes forests, they're giants, and the natives make their homes in the trunks. They build entire cities, with stairs and bridges connecting them to one another. Around here, there are only a few of these trees and they're normal-sized, but inside their hollow tops, one or two people can easily hide.”

— Exactly. But sometimes the tree is young and doesn't have a cavity yet. Some are already open because other students know about this, but if you find one with a closed top, you can open it with a rock. Climb to the last thick branch, find where the bark is weakest, and hit it with the rock until you've made an opening to get inside.

I nodded, thinking about everything I had to do in the test. I ran through my plans mentally, calming myself down and telling myself everything would be fine. At some point, Zion turned to watch the snowflakes falling outside through the glass wall.

“Zion?” I called, drawing his attention away from the snow.

“Yes?” He turned to me.