Page 68 of Lifebound

It made me wonder what he’d look like without that shirt at all. And without those pants.

Then I remembered that he’d actually seen me naked—twice.

Then I remembered that he’d emptied a pitcher full of water on me while I had mynakedback turned to him. I remembered how I’d revealed myself to him, completely uncovered, confident, driven by that raw anger he made me feel when he tried to get the upper hand—and by the senseless desire he ignited in me.

“What does your tattoo mean?”

The words left my lips before I realized I’d decided to ask. And Rune was silent for such a long moment after that I regretted having spoken with all my heart.

Until… “It’s not a tattoo. It’s a mark.”

“For what?”

This one, he didn’t answer at all.

“Do you want a blanket?” I ended up saying eventually because it felt wrong to have two when he had none.

“No.”

That’s all he said.No.

I closed my eyes, squeezed them shut, begged for sleep to take me already. I was so tired that my limbs were still slightly pulsating, and I just knew that I was going to have sore muscles in the morning.

But when sleep didn’t come, I found myself praying I could turn back time somehow, go back to that bathroom and just settle for washing my face in the basin, never take my clothes off at all. Never turn around and show him my naked body like that—God, what the hell was I thinking?!

Betty would approve. Angry and horny me approved, too. That’s why I was so fucking mortified now.

“We should reach the edge of Cloakwood in a day and a half,” Rune said after a while, surprising me. I thought he wanted me to shut up.

I said nothing.

“If we’re lucky, we can get to Blackwater in three.”

I closed my eyes. His voice was really soothing. I wished I could tell him to just keep talking—or even to read me a bedtime story. I used to love it when Dad read those for me when I was little.

“How did he save you?”

My eyes opened again. “How did he saveyou?” I asked instead.

Neither of us answered.

“What can you do, Rune? What’s your magic power?” I wondered, certain he wouldn’t answer that, either.

To my surprise, he did.

“All fae have the power of illusions in different ways. The Midnight Court creates them through shadows. Our magic connects to them as easily as it does to poisons and venoms—plants or creatures, they are very easy to access. And most, but not all Midnight Fae, have the power of dream manipulation.”

I thought about that for a second.

“Show me,” I then said. “How does one create manipulations through shadows?”

Slowly, Rune pulled a hand from under his head and raised it up at the ceiling. And on the wall to his right, just beside the door, the shadow moved even when his hand didn’t.

The shadow waved at me, moved its fingers, though Rune’s hand remained perfectly still, fingers pointing at the ceiling.

The shadow didn’t stop. It made circles and triangles, spun around and pretended to crawl on the wall like a snake, then like a worm. Pretended to be scissors, then made a rabbit with two big ears bouncing—again, while Rune’s hand didn’t move an inch. I found myself laughing a little at how the shadow rabbit jumped around, moving all the way up to the corner of the wall where the lights didn’t reach, then back again.

Then it became a dog with its tongue hanging out, and somehow, the shadow gained another five fingers to create a spider that looked terribly real.

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