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“We should go get you painted up.” I hum quietly, lifting to scoop her up in my arms and teleport us downstairs. My father, along with most of the servants, lords and ladies, and village masters, are all gathered in the foyer and throne room. The doors of the front of the castle are swung open wide, welcoming others in. It’s a bustling hub of laughter and chatter as I set Alice down, placing her feet on the floor.
People stare at us and the noise filters out into utter silence as we make our way to the throne room. It makes my skin crawl and boils the blood in my veins, knowing other men are gawking at her even while her dainty hand is weaved in mine. Still, I push on, heading toward the space in the corner where buckets of neon pain sit.
“Why paint?” Alice says behind me, half jogging to keep up with my pace.
“It shows you’re taken. The widows will find someone else tonight to look after their family. Anyone single won’t be painted. It tells others that you’re off limits, but also binds us for the night through magic.”
“Bind us how?”
My lips tip up at a corner. “Worried are we? You shouldn’t be. It’s kind of like hand fasting, but with magic. Our blood is mixed with the paint and as long as it’s on our body, you’ll feel what I feel and vice versa.” I look at the ceiling, rocking my head as I search for a way to explain it further. “It’s kind of like shifters on earth when they mate. You’re connected on a deeper level. It also makes certain activities more… sensual and erotic.”
“Oh…” she says, glancing at the red paint. Well, if she was planning something, she’s realizing it’s been foiled. Or will be.
I sit in the wooden chair near the paint and grab her hips, pulling her toward me until her body is positioned between my legs. “Do you trust me?”
“Yes…Mostly.”
I chuckle, rolling my eyes. “I think we can both say by now that I’ll always have your best interest at heart, right? I’m literally bound by the fates to protect you.”
Her bright blue eyes find mine, swimming with curiosity. “Okay. What should I do?”
I stroke my thumbs over her hip bones before moving to yank the dagger on my waist from the sheath. “Slice your palm, love. The fun is about to start.”
She closes her fist around the blade and grimaces as she yanks the dagger out of her grip. Crimson blood begins to drip, then pours into the stone mortar of cherry red paint.
“That’s enough” I hand her a rag to press to the wound, then do the same before mixing it with the pestle. Mumbling the incantation, I dip the tips of two fingers inside the concoction we’ve created and drag her body closer. “Ready?” I ask, gently pressing my lips against her sternum.
“I suppose,” she says, her eyes smiling down at me.
“Good.” I begin tracing my fingers over the swell of her breasts, then a line straight up from the tip of her top, over the length of her neck, and up to her chin. Then another line starting at the base of each ear and stretching down her throat, over her shoulder and arms, all the way to the tip of her ring and middle finger. I continue drawing line after line, over her stomach, back, and legs, until her binding is complete.
“My turn,” I say, winking at her. She takes the bowl from my hands but stays standing.
“Do I do the same design?”
Darting my tongue between my lips, I meet her ocean eyes that threaten to suck me into white-capped waves. Loving her is like a damn riptide I’ll never get out of. Nor would I want to, even if it meant drowning.
“You can draw whatever you want. As long as that paint makes its way onto my body the spell will work.”
She drops her head, reaching a finger into the bowl, then moves to run it across my chest, hesitating just before she touches my flesh. The moment she makes contact, I suck in a breath, feeling the link tie somewhere deep within me—someplace far out of reach. It strings tight until my heart races, feeling her nerves rush through the bond.
Her fingers tremble, drawing delicate lines and swirling down the snake tattoos on my arms, painting them red. I’m not sure how she handles this… Her pulse is racing so fast that my head swims. Gripping her hand, I hold it still, and her eyes flick up to stare into mine.
“It’s okay… Breathe, Alice. It’s just a spell. It’ll wear off.”
“I know, it’s just—”
“You planned to go after Finn and didn’t want me to find out,” I finish for her. Alice stiffens, zoning out, and staring past me. “I figured it out before the paint.”
“Is that why you wanted to do this?”
I shake my head no, running my thumb over the back of her hand. “No. I wanted to do this because I love you. I needed to be here for my people, and there’s no one else I’d want to share this with. Where’s your sword?”
She swallows, setting the bowl down and wiping the excess paint off her fingers. “With Luri. It’s safe.”
“Just…” I force myself to meet her gaze, torn between wanting to help her—fuck, I’d go instead if I could—and wanting to keep her safe. “Just give me time. Please.”
Even as she nods, I know she won’t. The moment she gets a chance to carry out her plan, she’ll do it. That’s how Alice thinks. She’s passionate and I love her for it, but it also makes me fight for my spot in Heaven every time she defies me and does things her way, regardless of the consequences.
