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Nothing can keep us apart.
The tension building in my chest eases as he pulls away to look at me, and I take a shaky breath to steady myself.
"If the idea is to let the curse temporarily stop your heart... or our hearts..." he says tentatively. "Then shouldn't we get Helena, Lucy, or one of the healers to help? If we both die, there won't be anyone to resuscitate us."
I thought about that too, but I get the feeling that it won't work that way. The idea is that we only need a few minutes to talk to the Goddess and convince her to lift the curse and send us back. But it's like Tristan said; I doubt the curse works exactly the same as cardiac arrest. I can't explain it exactly, but I get the sense that unless we get through to Selene, the best CPR in the world wouldn't be enough to revive us.
Plus, none of the healers would want to allow it. Lucy told me to stop avoiding Tristan, but I doubt this is what she had in mind.
"Would you support me taking this risk if you weren't taking it with me?" I ask him pointedly. "Besides, we need the curse that connects me to the Goddess, not a defibrillator, and I hardly think you. Not to mention that we can mate properly with a team of physicians on standby."
He nods, and from the way his muscles go taut, I can tell he hates the idea of anyone else being in the room even more than I do.
"Okay. Just you and me then," he says. "Gods forgive me." He pulls me close to him, bringing his lips back to mine once again.
Gods forgive us indeed.
Chapter Seventeen
The pain comes just as expected.
A burning sort of cold courses through my veins as Tristan kisses me, but I push it down. It's easier to bear now that we've decided to give into it, like that part of me that was struggling to hold back whenever I was around him can finally rest.
I curl the fabric of his shirt into a fist and tug, wanting more of him. Tristan happily obliges, pressing his body against mine as his lips leave my own to trail kisses down my jaw and along my neck. The warmth of his breath on my skin sends shivers down my spine, and his fingers move to unbutton my blouse, eager to remove the layers that separate us.
We step away from each other just long enough for me to slide my arms out of the blouse and for him to pull his own shirt off over his head in one swift motion. Everything about him is fluid and graceful, and there's something predatory in his gaze that makes my heart race, but not with fear.
He takes my arm, and I yelp in surprise as he draws me toward him and he catches me in his embrace. I brace myself with my hands on his hips as he cups the back of my neck and lingers a breath away from me.
His amber eyes shine golden in the flickering candlelight of my room as he turns us around so my back is against the wall beside the window, and I'm perfectly pinned by his body against my own. My senses are a muddled mess, consumed by the sight of him, the smell of him, the taste of him, and the feel of his skin against mine. Beneath it all, my chest tightens as if it were being crushed by an invisible weight, a sharp flash radiating from my heart.
Tristan holds my gaze, his breath ragged as his eyes dart down to my lips before returning to meet my own.
"Tell me if you want me to stop," he commands, and I know he means it. One word from me, and he'll step away, breaking off all contact between us to spare me the effects of the curse.
"Don't you dare," I hiss, reaching for him again.
His fingers curl into my hair, pulling on it softly enough that it doesn't hurt but firmly enough that I have to tilt my head to the side, exposing my neck to him so he can kiss the spots that he somehow knows give me goosebumps.
I melt into his touch with a soft gasp as his tongue slides over my skin, and he kisses his way down my neck to my collarbone, where he stops again to look at my chest.
The mark over my heart is glowing, pulsing with a silver light that burns me from the inside out, but I don't care. I'm lost to the pleasure and pain of it all, and then he presses his lips against that spot carefully as if he could kiss the mark away.
The way he alternates between tender and passionate is dizzying. He's gentle and demanding, soft and hard all at once. My toes curl at the sensations flooding me.
I suck in a sharp breath as another wave of pain crashes over me, and I sag against Tristan, but he steadies me.
"Hey... if it's too much..." he starts to say, but I silence him with a kiss, consuming the words before he can even speak them.
I've made my choice, and I'll make it again as many times as it takes.
"I can handle it," I whisper breathlessly against his lips. I want this. I want him, and there's no way in hell I'm turning back now.
He bends down slowly to wrap his arms around me, and I answer his movement with my own, wrapping my legs around his waist as he lifts me into his arms and carries me toward the bed.
He sets me down gently on the edge and kneels by the foot of the bed, resting his hands atop my knees as he looks up at me.
I reach for him, frustrated by the absence of his body against my own, but he takes my hand and entwines his fingers against mine, resting them by my lap.
