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“You won’t...bleed for me?” I looked away, unable to face him as I asked the real question. “You don’t want me?”
Kalen took a small step back, and a low sound rippled through his throat, like he was disgusted I would even question it. Then he said, “I have bled for you, Gwyn. You know that.”
“And wanting me? What about that?”
“We can’t.”
His eyes looked tortured, and he’d said the words as if they declared some long forgotten-rule, made only to be broken by us, here, and now. I leaped in one swift movement out of the bed, which gave out a long creak. Looping my arm around Kalen’s neck, I felt his breath gutter in his throat. I would allow myself to beg just this once.
“Please.”
The word was one of weakness, but it was all I had left. Myfingers twisted the roots of his hair at the base of his neck. Kalen bowed his head in profound concentration. Like he was attempting to will himself to resist.
I felt a rush at the thought of his corruption by me. I drew him to me, his lips barely touching the side of my cheek. His hips pressed against mine and the quick meeting of them sent my mind tumbling, down and down until it hit my stomach. Kalen tensed, stopped breathing, and tore himself forcefully from our embrace.
I let my gaze fall, trying hard to blink away the hot and stinging tears of disappointment that began to flow into the corners of my eyes. That had to be it. I couldn’t do this anymore with him. Whatever he was holding back, maybe it was better left under the surface of his malice. Only to break with an occasional jaunt at my expense every hundred years.
I heard the scrape of his shoes against the floor and hoped they’d move faster. I couldn’t stop the tears from coming, not all of them, and I wanted him far away from here when they did. I counted the pace: one, two, three. The wooden floors creaked with shifting weight. Four, five— there were more steps than necessary, and I nearly cursed at him for dragging it out. Until two rough hands enveloped my face, cradling my neck towards the light coming in from a star-filled night.
Kalen’s mouth pressed hard against mine, to both our surprise, as he gave into whatever vices he felt were wrapped up in me. My eyes closed, the welled tears spilling out onto my cheeks, and the world became a color I’d never seen. It was bright and warm and reminded me of home. The Binding. Pure, untouched. A safe place where no time could pass. Kalen sighed, relieved to have been so defeated.
I met the soft strokes of his lower lip, growing desperate as he tugged mine gently with his teeth. His rough hand slid the fleshy tops of my thighs that sat around the bend of his knees,unleashing something within me. A wanton, unbridled need. At the same time, he ground his hips into mine, and when his tongue swiped at my lips, I parted for him out of instinct, letting him lay claim to that new uncharted place. With a soft pounce, Kalen guided us back onto the bed. I smiled against his lips. He smiled back. In the swing of it all, the sheets I’d had wrapped around my chest fell to my hips.
Kalen rose, breaking our kiss, and let himself take in the sight of me. The groan that came from his chest cracked and he swallowed for cover. In his lap, I saw the tremble of his fingers. Lacing them through my own, I brought our twined hands to the deep curves of my sides and let us find our way up my goosed skin. He stopped the movement at my breasts and closed his eyes. I watched him, curious at the somber mesh of lashes against cheek.
My heart beat under our hands just once, and then his contemplation was over, his shirt pulled above his head, and he was kissing me again. I braced my hands against the smooth muscled skin of his torso. The pace of his lips against mine slowed, and softened regardless of my own urgency until they stopped completely. Kalen arched away from me when I pressed in towards him, the need becoming devastating. His arms fell upon me, and my vision blackened for a moment.
When I could see again, Kalen had put his shirt over my head and was feeding my arms through the knitted sleeves. A faint smile played on his lips. I snorted a laugh and looked up at him in confusion.
“We should sleep,” he said, and I choked.
“Kalen,” I whimpered in protest, moving my hands to the seam of his trousers. He grabbed my wrists firmly and placed two swift kisses on the tops of my knuckles.
“When we do this...” Kalen’s face was filled with lust. “And we will do this.” I blushed as he continued, “I want you to know meas I know you. I want you to understand just how I feel when you touch me, when I lay myself into you. I want you to know it is true.”
It is true, I thought. It is true and will be truer still.
HOURS LATER, WE STILLlay together, my hand pressed against the flat muscle of Kalen’s stomach. I swirled my fingers along the center, scraping my nails lightly against his skin. Kalen sighed each time I drew up to his heart.
“Can a mortal who has been Yielded use the Rite on another?” My question was an abrupt end to the small amount of peace we’d found. So abrupt that I almost regretted asking it.
Kalen slid his arm from the cradle of my neck and positioned it as a prop for his tired head. The downward slant of his expression bemused. “No. They can’t.” He wrapped his free hand around the dip in my back and hauled my body against his in one bold tug. “Is that your roundabout way of saying you want me to make you my Yield?”
I shoved at his chest playfully, putting enough space between us so we could see each other clearly. “What makes you think I would want to be tied to you forever? Though it would be interesting to call you Master.” Pink stained the Preserver’s cheeks. I laughed as he flicked my nose.
“Then why do you ask at all?” He shuffled uncomfortably, biting his lip.
“I thought maybe...well...I could tell Ayona was Yielded. I thought maybe you had Yielded her, or she claimed you.” I felt small and silly as I explained the source of my minor jealousy, “Raven-haired lover.” Her hair was more of a brown thanfeather-black—but still.
“Gwyn,” Kalen raised his head and swung my body beneath his. The stare he gave was utterly serious. My heart puttered against my ribs. “Ayona is Gabriel’s Yield,” he explained.
“Oh.” I exhaled, looking down at the darkness that faded into the blanket around our stacked hips. The desolation in the Time Sage’s eyes as he learned of her death made sense to me now. For him, a star had been knocked from his skies. It would be wrong to admit I was relieved, but…
“I do not see her. The one who Yielded me,” Kalen said, and I counted the knitted loops of maroon threads, unable to look at him. “The Rite was forced, a game to subdue boredom. I did not know my fate until it was too late. She stayed only long enough to see me wake and realize the horror of it. After, she left me alone, with this.”
He gathered the long hair that always swept from the curve of his ear and down his neck into his fist, arcing his chin towards the light. A thin, waxy line ran from the space behind his jaw underneath his chin and across to the other side. I ran my forefinger along it softly. Tucked in a way that only he could see, a scar that never healed.
“I don’t know why it stays,” he answered my thought. “A physical bonding of the Rite, I suppose. No other Yields bear any trophies from their own. Though I don’t know a single one that had their heads nearly cut off, either.”
