WE WERE SILENT the entire plane ride back to Castell de Coronado.
The benefit and the curse of being blood bound was that I knew exactly what he was feeling. Sadness, fear, exhaustion, but it was the guilt that overwhelmed me. I understood it better than anyone. He was embarrassed for showing weakness around me, but he didn’t need to be. In that moment, his trembling hands covered in blood, I’d never felt closer to him, more bound to him.
It was just before dawn when we arrived back at the estate.
We used the side entrance to avoid seeing anyone, but the castle was quiet, empty. I was grateful. For me, for Dane, for everything we’d been through over the past twenty-four hours.
The scent of fresh blood, Pino’s decaying corpse, and fragrant white flowers from the champagne was undeniable. No doubt the immortals had some kind of blood orgy to celebrate their victory before returning to their empty lives. The good news was that I’d have an entire year to prepare for their next visit. Hopefully, a much shorter visit.
When we reached the top of the stairs, I told Dane I needed to speak with Beth, tell her what happened.
He nodded and went to his room. It was the hardest thing, watching him slink into the dark, alone. But he needed some time to come to terms with what happened.
On my way to Beth’s room, I practiced what I was going to say to her, but nothing sounded right. I was relieved to see the guards were gone from their post. The door to her room was left slightly ajar, but the lights were off.
I knocked lightly. “Beth,” I whispered. “It’s Ash.”
When she didn’t reply, I took it as a sign. Let her have one more night of sweet dreams. One more night of thinking that when she woke, Rhys would be by her side.
One more night wouldn’t hurt any of us.
• • •
Going back to my room, I took off my bloodstained clothes and looked at myself in the mirror. I no longer saw a girl haunted by memories, I saw a woman.
I knew Dane. He knew me. All our strengths, all our weaknesses.
In sickness and in health.
Tonight I was putting aside all the artifice, all the posturing, all the walls. And I was going to live in the moment. With Dane.
I brushed out my hair, put on a dab of lip balm, and slipped on the white silk robe.
Opening the agate box on my bedside table, I felt the weight of the key in my hand and everything it meant. Sliding it into the lock, I opened the door and stepped inside the darkened room.
Dane was crouched in front of the fire, a towel wrapped around his waist, his gorgeous olive skin dotted with beads of water from the shower. He didn’t even register me coming in; his eyes were trained on the fire, no doubt replaying the carnage he’d just inflicted on an endless loop.
I knew that pain. Better than anyone.
The air was thick with regret, which only seemed to intensify his scent of sandalwood, musk, and earth. The pain pouring off of him was all consuming. I remembered what that was like—walking out of the corn, watching the sun come up on endless days of loss and regret—and I wanted to ease his pain. I wanted him to pour that sadness into me so I could share the burden.
“Love is love no matter how it comes to you,” I said as I stepped behind him. “I understand that now more than ever.”
“Forgive me,” he said as he glanced back at me. “I’ll get dressed.”
“There’s no need,” I replied.
I’d always thought it was impossible to tell what color Dane’s eyes were—blue, green, or gold—but that’s exactly how Dane was: complicated. But there was nothing complicated about this. About being with him in this way. It was actually the simplest thing in the world. And all I had to do was show him that this is what I wanted. That I was ready.
I handed him the key.
He glanced toward the door, surprised to find it open.
“I come to you with no barriers between us,” I said as I untied the robe, letting it drop to the floor. “Everything I have is yours.”
I watched him take me in. I welcomed it.
As he stood to face me, he tossed the key into the fire.
Skimming my fingers across the edge of the towel wrapped around his waist, I pulled it free. It dropped to the floor with a heavy thud. I smoothed my hands across his chest, and his breath shuddered. As I moved in close, pressing my body against his, running my fingers over his shoulder blades, I felt a change come over him—the sadness washed away by passion. I nuzzled my face into his neck, my lips brushing a pulsing vein. Suddenly, I wanted to feel the rush of his blood pulsing through mine. I longed for the closeness we felt under Heartbreak Tree. And I wanted to show him that I would’ve made the same choice. In any lifetime, in any form, I would choose him all over again.
I took the letter opener from his desk and slit the palm of his hand and then my own. We laced our fingers together. The feel of his blood entering my bloodstream was euphoric. Everything I remembered, but it was so much more complex now. Time had only intensified my feelings, my desire to be with him in this way. As our wounds healed shut, a completely different desire rose up inside of me.
As if reading my thoughts, he glanced toward the bed.
“A little conventional for us, wouldn’t you say?”
A sly smile tugged at the corner of his mouth before he shoved the coffee table out of the way and we tumbled to the ground.
The cold marble against my skin, the heat from the flames of the fire licking our backs, his mouth all over me, mine all over him. The desire consuming us from the outside in. He placed his hands firmly on my bare hips, stopping any movement.
“We have all the time in the world,” he whispered. “This is not only our wedding night, but the first night of the rest of our lives. Eternity.”
“Exactly.” I removed his hands. “We can do it again and again and again.”
“I want to make this last,” he said as he sat up. “I’ve dreamed of nothing but you . . . but this, for so long. I want to memorize every part of you. Every movement. Every breath. Give me that. I want you to forget who you are, bring you to the brink of heaven and hell, until you beg for release.”
“I’m begging,” I said as I wrapped myself around him.
“But I’m just getting started.”
I laughed into the crook of his neck as he picked me up and carried me to the bed.
As I lay there on his fine bed, flushed, my breath heavy in my chest, his gaze melted over my skin. I opened up to him, and he kissed his way up my entire body until he finally threaded his fingers in my hair. He moved slowly, using every part of his body. He was so attuned to me, as if he knew exactly what I wanted, when I wanted it.
Breathing in time, his eyes locked on mine, I didn’t care how I looked, what sounds came out of my mouth. We were striving toward a common need—but it was more than need. Everything in our past, present and future was building toward this moment, until a blistering warmth consumed us.
He collapsed beside me and we lay there perfectly still. Empty in a state of bliss. All of the past hurts, all of the pain evaporating into the ether.
All that remained were our bodies—vessels for each other’s hearts.