Reaching forward, I press my blood against his chest, right over his heart. “I do,” I say, my grin stretching wider as his matches mine. Together, we mark each other’s hearts, sealing the bond with blood.
Mother, Father, I am bonded to my mate.
“The rose,” Láda Veléša says, “and the guardian.”
Theron and I stand before the goddesses, waiting.
“From the garden of Éva, six flowers bloom,” she continues, her many hands moving in one direction. “The blue rose will lead them.”
Six flowers? Is this a clue? My heart pounds as I focus on her every word.
“The peony will guard,” she says, and a lush, pink peony appears in one of her hands. “The chamomile will heal.” A gentle breeze carries the familiar scent of chamomile. It reminds me of the tea my mother used to make when I was ill. “The yarrow will fight.” One of her swords takes on a burgundy hue as she speaks. “The rowan berry will know.” Another hand forms small, red berries, glistening like drops of blood. “And the lotus will see.” From her eyes, a white flower blooms, pure and radiant.
This is it. Everything falls into place.
I am the blue rose—the leader. The peony is the sentinel. The chamomile, the healer. The yarrow, the warrior. The rowan berry, the scholar. And the lotus, the seer.
The six who will restore balance.
Láda Veléša’s gaze sharpens. “You will find them, Blue Rose, and together, you will bring harmony to this fractured world.”
54
THE SEALED BOND
“Only when soul and soul are bound does true power wake. Half a soul can bleed, but a whole soul can command the earth, the winds, and the stars themselves.”
—Mother of All, whispered into the roots of the first blue rose
Noël
“I’ve waited centuries for this. Tell me you feel it too,” Theron breathes.
Carefully, he sets me on the table in our home. We wanted to spend this night here—one last time—before we leave tomorrow.
“I feel it, Theron.” My heart races, and the weight of his eyes on me makes it harder to breathe. The need is overwhelming, literally unbearable. Heat spreads through me. Rubbing my thighs together doesn’t help, it only makes it worse. Is this how he felt the moment we first met?
It’s impossible to focus. The only thought in my mind is him. How big he is, how strong he is, how charming. I have to touch him. I reach for him with shaking hands, bury them in the fur of his mane, and I pull him to me.
Breathing long, uneven breaths, he leans in.
“Theron,” I whisper. I can’t wait another second. My hands fumble to remove the gown, and I pull it off as quickly as I can, my breath coming in short, desperate pants.
It’s all too much.
Paws trembling, Theron grips my shoulders, his claws pressing just enough to make my skin tingle. He leans down to my neck while my gown slides off the edge of the table, damp with my arousal. Goddesses.
His broad chest rises and falls, each breath frantic and heavy, before he slowly lowers himself to the floor.
“You’re on your knees,” I pant, barely able to keep my voice steady.
“I...” His chest heaves as thick, white precum drips from the tip of his pulsing cock. “...am.” His snout brushes against my knee, his warm breaths ghosting over my skin. The heat makes me shiver.
His paws grip the edge of the table, and his claws dig into the wood. With a loud crack, the table splinters beneath his strength, shattering in a second.
Before I can gasp in surprise, his arms are around me, catching me. We freeze, staring into each other’s eyes, both wide in shock.
Is he even stronger now that I’ve awakened?
