Page 290 of Vasmora

“I will do my best to ensure you can walk,” he said and chuckled.

“And what of this ceremony Lothare mentioned. We don’t have to … consummate in front of an audience, do we?”

Again, his brow kicked up. “You don’t want to?”

Panic jolted me. “Absolutely not.”

A much darker chuckle rumbled out of him. “I wasn’t serious. The Bonding Ceremony is nothing more than a formality.”

“Like a wedding?”

“Yes. Very much like a mortal wedding.”

I slowly nodded. “So, the ceremony comes after the Bonding? Like dessert before supper?”

“Yes, it’d be rather humiliating if the bond happened to fail.”

“Do some stay together in spite of a failed bond?” As I continued to pry, my eyes anchored on the dagger held loosely in his grasp.

He cleared his throat, drawing my attention to the humor fading from his eyes. “Yes. My parents. Sometimes the bond can be forced.”

“How?”

“A man can be made to release Bonding essence, so long as he hasn’t come into contact with his true mate. Takes quite a bit of coaxing, as I understand.”

My gaze wandered to his beastly manhood just long enough to imagine my laughable attempt to coax anything out of it. “Bonding essence. That’s released during consummation?”

“Yes.”

“When you release … does it hurt?”

His lips pulled to a devious smile. “No, A’miszhla. It’s said there is nothing in this world that feels as good.”

A rush of tingles prickled my thighs.

He brushed the hair from my shoulder and kissed the crook of my neck. “But if you’re truly not ready, I’ll wait.”

“I am ready. Just … not quite for the stabbing part. There’s no other way?” When he shook his head, the tiny seed of hope withered inside of me. “You once told me there was an exchange of blood.”

“After the stabbing.”

“Of course. Silly me. What’s a stabbing without lots of blood?” Again, I frowned down at the blade. “I want this. I want you. For eternity. If it’s the only way, then … let’s do it.”

“You’re certain.”

“No.” I winced, shaking my head. “Yes.” Forcing a smile, I nodded. “I’m certain.”

His chest rose and fell with a deep breath, once again drawing my eyes to the scars there. The evidence of failed attempts practically burned my eyeballs. “You’re going to push the blade until you hear a crack.”

My stomach flipped on itself. “Tell me you’re joking.”

“It only hurts for a second. It’ll release sort of a numbing substance inside of me. And then … the essence. That’s when we consummate the bond.”

I drew in a long, shaky breath, and when I exhaled, he raised his brows. I nodded.

Zevander positioned the blade, his hand over mine, and as I gripped the hilt, he squeezed his eyes shut. He let out three forceful breaths. “Now.”

Teeth clenched, I shoved the blade into his chest, and a growl barely slipped through his teeth as he winced.