She reluctantly nodded, her body sinking back onto the couch. Reaching down with one hand, I tugged my shirt off in a fluid motion. The chilled night air brushed against my skin as I turned the shirt right side out.
“What are you doing?!” Raelyna’s cry burst out at my action, and I pinned her with a grin.
“Solving your current clothing crisis, while I get supplies to clean your sofa.”
Her eyes widened at my statement, and it took everything in me to curb the groan of delight that sprang forth as I watched her eyes track across the now bare expanse of skin I was displaying. With concentrated actions, I handed the shirt to her.
“Change into this . . . without moving too much. I don’t need you falling.”
I chuckled as her eyes rolled at my words, but she began moving to comply with the demands.
“Why lightning bolts?” she asked, her eyes narrowed on the left side of my body—the side I knew had an intricate series of golden lightning bolts cutting over my skin.
“To remind myself that even when I feel powerless, there’s agreater power out there. That even when I don’t feel in control, I can know that the Eternal is shaping the path before me.” I admitted as I held her gaze.
Her lip curved up slightly as she studied the golden ink across my skin. “I like it,” she replied softly before settling further into the couch. I took that as my cue to go off in search of any form of stain remover.
Leaving the living room, I began rummaging through the kitchen cabinets, searching for baking soda, a bowl, and a towel. It took far more searching than I’d anticipated. The number of items Raelyna managed to store in these cabinets could win an award, if one could even be awarded for such a feat.
Filling the bowl with cold water and then mixing the baking soda into a paste I knew would remove the stain fairly quickly. I headed back out into the living room, only to stop dead in my tracks.
My blood spiked, pulse increasing rapidly as I stared at the female before me in wonder and amazement. The desire to claim her as mine coursed through every fiber of my being.
Raelyna was curled up on the sofa, eyes closed as she hugged a pillow against her chest. She had discarded the blood-covered lounge set in a pile on the floor beside her and was now resting, nestled up, inonlymy T-shirt.
Softly padding through the living room, it took everything in me not to disrupt her as I began to cover the blood-speckled stains in the paste, scrubbing and then letting them sit for a few moments. Her breathing had calmed to a steady pace, and the throbbing pain I’d previously felt through the starbound mark was no longer pulsing.
Throughout my years, I’d heard many comments about the starbound mark, about how you could feel your bonded’s pain and their emotions through the bond. I’d also heard many drunken ramblings about the frustration of not being able tofully block out the bond. But in this moment, I’d never been more grateful to feel her pain through the bond. Because without it, I wouldn’t have been there to comfort her, to ensure she was okay.
Picking up her clothes, I made my way through her apartment until I found her laundry room. I set the clothes in the washing machine, ensuring they were covered with a stain remover, before making my way back toward the living room.
As I entered, I stopped in my tracks for the second time in five minutes, finding sea-glass hazel eyes fastened on me.
“You didn’t have to do that for me,” she said softly, her fingers picking at the fringed tassels on the pillow she still clutched close to her chest.
“I wanted to,” I replied as I advanced toward her in the low lighting of the space.
“Why?” she asked softly after a moment, and a heavy weight hit me, hating that I could tell she didn’t believe shedeservedhelp.
“Because,” I answered as I caught her gaze. “I want you to know that you don’t have to do everything alone. It’s okay to ask for help.”
“When will it go away?” she asked as she gestured toward the markings on her arm. I sighed as I slipped onto the couch beside her, angling my body to face her as she played with the pillow between us.
“Only the Eternal knows that,” I replied softly.
“I still don’t understand,” she admitted as she looked up at me from between her lashes. “How is it even possible? It shouldn’t be, should it?”
I sighed. “It shouldn’t be, and yet, somehow, it is.”
“Just like it’s somehow possible for Luc and his father to manage to create an entire religion centered around false gods,” she muttered bitterly under her breath.
A low noise rumbled from my chest, frustration rising at theentire situation. “It shouldn’t have been possible,” I admitted. “Even now, it shouldn’tbepossible.”
“And yet, it is,” she retorted, a note of weariness lacing her voice as she toyed nervously with the pillow she kept barricading us with. “Somehow, with Luc . . . it’s always possible. He willalwaysget his way.”
I watched as she picked thread after thread from the pillow before I finally reached out, grabbing the pillow from her grip and moving it to the floor beside us, before tugging her closer to me, demanding her attention.
“Luc doesn’t hold as much power as you think he does,” I said, feeling frustration rise at the pedestal she seemed to elevate the pitiful excuse of a male to.
