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“Maybe we shouldn’t do it then.” I start to pull away from him.
He snatches hold of my hand. “Nah, I think we should totally do it. It’ll give you a bit of motivation.”
“But aren’t you afraid I’ll fail?” I question. “Or what if I get so annoyed with you that I fail on purpose just so you’ll temporarily lose your powers.”
“I don’t think any of that’s gonna happen,” he replies confidently.
“I’m not so sure I share your confidence.”
“That’s okay. I’ll be confident for the both of us.”
I glance down at our hands as he lines our palms together. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
He gives a steady nod. “Yep.”
I release a nervous exhale. God, I hope I don’t mess this up. “Okay, lets do it then.”
I wait for him to pull out a knife so we can cut open our palms, but instead he shuts his eyes. Figuring I’m not fully understanding how a blood promise is made, I close my eyes too.
“What do we do now?” I ask as he shifts our hands in front of us with our palms pressed together.
“I want you to focus on unleashing a bit of your power of ice,” he utters. “I know your powers are weak right now, but I only need you to let out a drop of it.”
I’m puzzled, but still do what he asks, channeling the chill lingering inside me.
“Good,” he whispers. “Now let it carefully slip into me.”
Smashing my lips together, I allow the chill to glaze across my skin, down my arms, and to my fingertips—
He shudders as ice kisses his fingers. “Good…” he whispers, sounding strained.
I crack open my eyes to make sure he’s okay. His eyes are shut, his teeth are sunken into his bottom lip, and his chest is rising and crashing as he takes ragged breaths. Water droplets dew his skin, revealing he’s unleashed some of his power.
“Are you okay?” I whisper, worried I’m hurting him.
He nods, biting his lip harder. “I’m perfect…” He all but moans, leaving me to wonder what’s going on with him.
I’m about to ask when something stabs at my palm. I glance down and discover that a sharp icicle has formed between our hands and has cut open my flesh. I start to pull back, but he grasps onto my hand.
“Don’t let go just yet,” he whispers.
Swallowing hard, I press my palm closer to his and hold perfectly still. I keep my eyes open, watching in wonder as the droplets of water on his flesh morph into ice, making his entire body shimmer against the sunlight spilling through the branches above us.
He’s so gorgeous, I think, then realize my mistake as his lips quirk.
Thankfully, he doesn’t comment and focuses on making the blood promise, his lips moving as he whispers something under his breath. Whatever he says, the ice reacts to it, swirling around on his skin and making a path over to my arm. The contact makes the pain in my palm increase and blood trickles from the wound created by the sharp icicle.
East’s eyelids flutter open. “I’m going to need you to repeat what I say now, okay?”
I nod, mesmerized by how icy his pupils are. “Okay.”
Rubbing his lips together, he laces his fingers through mine. “Promitto opus de iniquitate.”
Crap, I’ve never been good at speaking other languages. Still, I do my best to repeat what he said.
“Good,” he says after I’ve finished. “There’s more. And make sure to repeat it exactly how I say it, okay?”
I nod. “Okay.”
