Page 98 of Stolen Threadwitch Bride
“To bond?” Like his parents had.
His chin dipped, the slightest nod. “Although you’re human, you’re fae-touched and it’s magic that allows us to bind ourselves to each other. Your magic will be tied to mine and mine to yours, and that will link our lives. You’ll have the same longevity as me. If I go, you go. If you go, so do I.”
He wouldn’t have to watch me age and die. I wouldn’t have to pass on to the next place and leave him behind, wondering if he’d find new happiness or live broken evermore.
Fingertips tracing the edge of my jaw, he tilted my chin and held my gaze, no hint of his dimple or any grin. “But that’s only if you want to. And I understand if you don’t, there’s no—”
“I want it, Ly.” I slid against him, kissed away the grim, straight line of his mouth. “I want to spend my life with you, to build our lifetogether. Let’s make it a long and happy one.”
He pulled me close and smiled against my lips before murmuring, “I fully intend to.”
Epilogue
Up and down, up and down, I paced. Outside, the sun sat high in the blue sky, and I huffed. Still afternoon. I glowered at the clock on the mantelpiece.One o’clock. Dusk washoursaway, and my skin was too tight, my thighs too tense.
With a sigh, I threw myself onto the bed. This had been my room, but not anymore, though. That was enough to make me smile a little.
Now Lysander and I hadourroom.
We’d married the day before yesterday and tonight we’d complete the bonding ritual.
I hadn’t seen Ly since sunset. One part of the ritual he’d left out—one veryfrustratingpart—was that we had to be apart from dusk until dusk.
To ensure freely given consent, he’d said.
To ensure I was aching with need,Ithought.
Not only for his body, although I was keen to feel him all over me, but for his voice, his tender touches for no reason in particular, for his dark eyes glinting above a grin. For his laugh.
It was as Sylvie had said—now the yew was restored, his laughter and smiles came more easily and every one of them was a warm mote in my heart, like embers floating from a bonfire.
“Sulking because you miss your husband?” Sylvie lingered in the doorway, grinning wickedly. “I thought you’d take your chance to escape.”
I snorted and threw a pillow at her… ortriedto—it barely reached halfway to the door. “I don’t want that anymore.”
Her grin gentled to a sweet smile, though something dimmed in her gaze—a sadness, a longing, perhaps. “I know. I’m glad.” Tilting her head, she slunk in. “Thought you might want some help getting ready.”
Sitting up, I returned her smile. A little corner of my heart that wasn’t full of Ly ached for her, for whatever dimmed her light. “From you? Always.”
She ran one of her gloriously scented baths—jasmine and amber today—and stayed with me to chat as I washed my hair. Somehow it reached my waist now, and she explained it was the food, not only keeping me free from disease, but making every part of my body healthy. I had to admit, my skin had never looked so smooth or felt so soft.
After, she coaxed my hair into soft waves using some fae contraption that heated the shape in place. I saw no sign of clips, but she somehow fastened a small stem of white lilacs behind one ear. The sweet floral scent wafted with every movement.
As part of the wedding preparation, she’d helped me pick out a wedding trousseau, since there’d been no time for me to make it—all manner of floaty nightgowns and barely-there undergarments. It was just as well we’d bought such things, because with a smirk, she advised me to wear something I could remove easily.
We picked out a slinky black robe, the silk so slippery it could’ve been liquid. Tiny,tinyblack and silver crystals scattered across it, as random as stars, so small, I couldn’t see any stitches holding them in place. Perhaps they were fixed with magic.
The effect as I stood before the mirror, turning this way and that, certainly was magical. They only showed when they caught the light, like shooting stars winking in and out of existence.
As she helped me finish getting ready, I tried to coax more information out of her about the ritual. The outcome, I understood. All I knew ofhowwas that it involved reaching for our magic while making love, which would weave our gifts together. Other than that…
Sylvie only smiled and shrugged. “It’s like a lot of rituals—certain words you have to say, a couple of questions, and the appropriate symbolism.”
I frowned and opened my mouth to askwhat symbolism, but she nodded at the window.
“It’s time. Come on.” With a tug on my hand, she pulled me from the mirror.
Sure enough, outside the sky was darkening to violet, which made my heart leap. It had only been a day since I’d seen Ly, but it felt more like a week, especially coming so early in our married life.
