Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 126570 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126570 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
Gritting my teeth through the throbbing ache, I clamp my fingers around his as he tries to yank himself out of my grasp.
“Ambrose, you’ve been bugging me for days to do this,” I grind out.
Instantly stilling, he tips his head to the side in confusion, his white hair fanning out around his too-pale face. “I have?”
Truly smiling now at catching him by surprise, even though my own soul is screaming out in alarm, I huff out, “Yes, so stop fighting me and let’s dance.”
I’ve never danced before, but I’ve seen plenty of movies. I understand the basic concept of it.
Tugging Ambrose closer, I place my other hand on his shoulder and lift the hand I’m holding.
Eyes growing wide, Ambrose stares at me in astonishment before a grin stretches across his lips.
Guiding my hand into the right position, he takes a step forward, forcing me to take a step back.
After another step, I somehow pick up the rhythm he desires, anticipating his next step.
As he takes a sweeping step to the side, I can’t help but remember how easily Charity moved with him, feeling myself do the same.
Spinning me around, Ambrose slightly dips me back, and I laugh. Then he pulls me up and twirls me in circles.
Getting lost in the rhythm, I forget for a moment that we’re supposed to be heading into unknown peril, losing myself to the invisible melody.
When he suddenly yanks me close, the music… the beat of… something… thrums in my ears. Emanating from somewhere between us.
Grip tightening on me, Ambrose begins to spin me faster.
As the world blurs around me, the music flowing between us grows louder and louder.
Colors… bright pinks, yellows, purples, and clouds of black flash in front of my eyes.
Finding the black clouds out of place, I begin to will them away.
The puffs of fuzzy ink swell up then shrink out of existence.
More and more colors appear, drawing all my attention, and making the black clouds go away becomes a sort of game.
Almost gleefully, I pop them, feeling a visceral sort of joy as they shatter.
I become so lost in what I’m doing, it’s not until Ambrose gasps, “Mother,” that I remember why we’re dancing.
Ambrose stumbles, pulling on me.
Nearly tripping into him, everything slips away.
The world rushes around us as I somehow defy the rules of space and time, but when we finally snap in place I only feel a little disoriented.
All the practicing I did earlier with Asher paying off and making the whole thing not seem so jarring.
Ambrose yanks his hand out of mine, and I open my eyes.
Where are you? Asher asks at once through the bond.
Blinking against all the dust we’ve disturbed, I nearly giggle as I take in what surrounds us. In a broom closet.
I’m immediately filled with a sense of relief. Asher’s relief. He’s been trying to hide his emotions from me, but I’m getting better at slipping past his defenses without him knowing.
He doesn’t want me to know how hard he’s fighting against his own instincts.
Instincts that demand he shelter me in a bubble to protect me.
If he didn’t think it would slowly kill my soul, he’d clip my wings and keep me locked in a cage. Only taking me out when he wants to play.
Just like what the Order did to me.
But thankfully he loves me too much to do that.
What we are doing is extremely risky, but given the lack of time to plan, there is no other way.
If you see anyone besides Raphael’s soulmarked, I want you to return to me immediately.
That’s always been the plan. I’m only going to poke around if I can do it undetected. Otherwise, I’m going to vanish back to Asher’s side.
Of course, I respond as I shove the handle of a mop away.
I love you, Asher pushes through the bond, along with an explosive burst of emotion that almost stuns me. Reminding me what’s at stake. Reminding me of what I could lose if I make a stupid mistake.
For the first time in my life, I have a family that cares about me. A family that is relying on me.
I love you, too, I push back, and feel like it’s not enough. Compared to the depth of his feelings, my affection for him seems pitiful and weak.
He’s had hundreds of years to love and yearn for me. His affection only further deepening as he’s come to know me.
I’ve only had a short time to love him in return. To accept this ever-growing bond between us. To accept he is the other half of my soul, and all the implications that go with that.
But at least what I carry in my heart is real.
He’s become my everything.
And the only thing I regret is that I spent so much time running from him.
I feared death.
But it took dying for me to truly live.