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My breath hitched, hearing him call me his wife—it did something to my heart, made it whole somehow. And yet, it made me . . . squeamish too. Irony dawned on me that I’d long hated the idea of being married, but little did I know that I already was.
I slipped my robe off and placed my hand in his, embracing this moment between us. He bowed, bringing my hand to his lips as he placed a kiss against it—the simple gesture causing my heart’s two left feet to trip over one another.
I followed him into the waters.
In the center, under the glistening sun, he swept my body up, cradling me against him. I looped my arms around his neck, and for a time, we just stayed like that, staring into one another’s eyes—that sweet euphoria making the moment even more magical.
I weaved my wet fingers into his, playing with them. My gaze fell to the spot over his heart—there was no scar there and yet . . .
“You gave me your heart,” I whispered in awe.
“I did,” he answered, his gaze drifting to my chest, looking beyond my flesh.
Softly, I pulled on his hand and placed it over my breast. My hand slid over top of his—the size difference between the two was drastic.
“Does it respond to my touch?” he asked, mesmerized.
“Yes, it is very reactive whenever you are near. It’s been like that since I saw you that first night. I couldn’t make sense of it then, but now, I understand.”
“It reacts to me because it is still my heart. But—” his gaze lifted to mine, a soft smile toying at the corners of his lips, “—you are the keeper of it.”
I could feel the unending love behind those words and it swallowed me whole, my body overcome with an intense radiating emotion. Searching for release, my lips found his, and I poured what I was feeling into my kiss.
He walked us towards the edge. The water drifted against my body, gliding smoothly over my skin as we moved. His hands clasped around my hips as he lifted me and set me on the pool’s ledge.
The cool air kissed my skin, coaxing a series of shivers to stroll down the length of my spine, chasing after the water droplets as they rolled over my soft, feminine curves.
“I need to ask something of you,” I said, looking up at him.
“Alright.” His fingers played with the tips of my white hair.
“I want the collar removed.”
On bated breath, I waited for his answer.
If he said no, then that would mean Von was right.
But if he said yes . . .
Aurelius nodded. “Of course, princess. I will see to it that we have it removed today.”
I smiled, wrapping my arms around his neck and kissing him.
Von was wrong about Aurelius.
And I was done with his mind games.
Sage
Sitting on top of a table with a thin mattress pad, I winced as the healer rubbed a pungent, musky-smelling salve on my neck. She focused on the raw flesh, the top layer of skin long rubbed off by the iron collar.
My gaze shifted from the aged face of the elderly healer who stood in front of me to the iron collar sitting on the small wood table to my right. Beside it sat the tin can which housed the salve she was applying to my neck—a new jar with three finger swipes ran through it. There was something poetic about seeing the collar and the salve sitting beside one another. One was used to repress, the other to heal.
Aurelius stood in the corner of the room with his arms crossed, his posture too perfect, too poised for him to becaught leaning against a wall. Unlike his typical regal clothes, today, he dressed more leisurely. He wore high-waisted button-up trousers—black—and a white, long-sleeved tunic with ruffled sleeves. His ruffled collar had a deep neckline, exposing his perfect, sun-kissed skin beneath, and the look was completed by a pair of knee-high leather boots. His long, white hair fell over his shoulder—no crown, or gold cuffs—in its natural, perfect state. He watched the healer work, but every so often, his gaze would meet mine and the slightest hint of a smile would play at his full lips, causing my heart to stumble a beat. Hewassomething to look at.
I winced again.
“Sorry about that,” the healer said, her skin crinkling at the corners of her eyes as she offered me a gummy smile—her teeth long gone. Without her teeth, her cheeks fell concave, the bottom half of her face looking as if it had sunken in on itself.
