Page 289 of Vasmora

I traced my finger over his hairline to his ear and kissed his forehead. “He was surrounded by those he loved and found peace in death.”

The furrow in his brow loosened, and his anguished gaze met mine. “I’m grateful you were there with him.” He pushed to his feet, hiking my legs to either side of his hips. “And I’m grateful for you now.” Lips fusing with mine, he carried me back across the room and laid me gently onto the mattress. Then, from the collection of weapons on the table, he snatched up one of the daggers and strode toward me.

I no longer feared the sight of it during intimacy, but when he slipped off his tunic and knelt alongside the bed, placing the hilt of it in my palm, I frowned. “What are you doing?”

“I’ve already sterilized it. Sharpened the blade. I’m ready to claim you.”

Blood pounded in my ears, a tingling cold spreading over my chest. “You’re asking me to stab you in the heart.” Shaking my head, I handed it back to him. “I … I can’t do that.” The scars on his chest caught my attention, and as if sensing the questions in my head, he glanced there and back.

“Loyce attempted the bond.”

“There are so many.” I ran my fingers over one of them, my stomach lurching at the depth of the scar there.

“She tried a number of times.”

The very thought of such a thing sent a rush of fury pounding through me. Had the wretch been standing next to me, I wouldn’t have hesitated to return the favor of recklessly stabbing her with the blade.

As if the anger was sketched on my face, his lips curved to a half-smile. “It was many years ago. Long before you were even born.”

He lifted my hand, pressing a kiss to the back of my palm. “My heart has waited centuries for you. For this moment.”

“Zevander, what if I …” I couldn’t bring myself to say it. The very thought sent a lump clawing up my throat.

“You won’t. I’ll show you where.”

“I have to stab a particular place?”

“Yes. There’s a valve inside the heart of every mancer. When you cut into it, it activates a Bonding hormone.”

Again, my eyes fell to the many scars clustered in one particular stretch of his chest. “And Loyce did this to you?”

“Never worked. She nearly bled me dry trying, though.”

“What if it doesn’t work for me? What do I do if you bleed out?”

“Moon witch, it’ll work.” He cupped my face, running his thumb over my cheek. “I’ve known since the day I first laid eyes on you that you were my mate.”

I nibbled on my bottom lip, the worst case scenario dancing through my head in horrific gore. “We’re tired, though. Maybe we should wait.”

“I told you, I’ve waited centuries for you. I can’t stand to wait a minute more.” He placed his hand over mine. “Will you trust me?”

I swallowed hard. “I trust you.”

Raising our joined hands to his heart, he positioned the blade in the center of all those scars. “When we do this, depending on the potency of the hormone, it can produce some strong effects.”

I didn’t know I was already frowning until I tried to frown and my brows locked up. “What kind of effects?”

He lowered the blade and sighed. “I’ve heard some have experienced extreme bouts of excitement. Like an animal going into heat.”

All I could summon to mind was the time Mrs. Primsley’s dachshund had gone into heat, drawing every stray across Mortasia. “How long does it last?”

He winced and rubbed his hand down his face. “Could be hours. Could be days. If I were on my moon cycle, we’d probably never leave this bed.”

“Days?”

“Bonding is not for the weak.”

Jaw slack, I stared off, trying to imagine the state I would be in after days of sex. “Do you eat? Sleep? Will I have the ability to walk afterward?”