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It rushed at me. Filling me up. The empty well was now overflowing.
I blinked a few times as his aura faded a little from view.
A hand reached through the fire, yanking on my braid. For a second, I slid away from Lucas, but he tightened his grip on my hand. Moving fast, he threw the athame across the fire.
The vampire yelled and let go of my hair.
I had to do something. Now.
Lucas pulled on my hand until I was sitting on his lap. My legs wrapped around his waist. Our left hands were still grasped together, trapped between our bodies.
I couldn’t think enough to rhyme, but I didn’t need it. I had more power—more magic—at the tip of my fingers than I’d ever had before.
“Burn.” I pictured the vampires drowning in flames. Turning to ash.
Screams filled the chamber.
The magic swelled through our bond and I grabbed it. “Burn. All of the evil in this temple. Burn.” The magic flowed out of me. It didn’t feel like my magic. It felt like Lucas. Like the pack. Like ancient witches. But it didn’t matter. It was working. The cries of the vampires told me that.
I kept repeating the command until it was quiet. Until I felt the magic expanding beyond this room. Going upstairs. Turning every undead monster to nothing more than a pile of ash.
Sweat rolled down my back, and even with all that added magic, I felt drained.
I leaned back from Lucas. “Are they all dead?” My voice was horse.
“I think so.” He leaned back against the leg of the altar. “I can’t hear any of them moving. How about putting out the fire?”
I nodded. My throat was sore, so instead of saying it aloud, I closed my eyes and pictured the fire going out. When I opened my eyes, it was done.
Sweat made Lucas’ hair look spiky instead of messy. I ran my hand through it, and he closed his eyes, leaning into the touch.
That feels nice.
I heard Lucas’ voice in my head and froze.
Lucas opened his eyes. “What?”
“I heard you.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“In my head. I heard you.”
“Of course you did. You’re my mate, princess.”
“I thought you weren’t going to call me that anymore. It’s still a little demeaning.”
“It’s not meant to be.” He ran his thumb down my cheek. “A very long time ago, I was once a prince. And that would make you—my mate and wife—a…”
hat even make sense?
“Make the cut. Do it quickly. Mine’s already healing.”
Crap. I didn’t have any more time. If I wanted to live—and I really did—I had to do this. And if I was honest with myself, I wanted it, too.
I counted to three and slashed the knife across my palm. Before I could do anything else, he grasped my left hand in his.
“What’s mine is yours and yours is mine. From earth to air to fire to water. Moon and sun. I will be yours to the end of time.”
