Page 113 of A Strange Hymn

All at once, he releases my wrist and backs away, running his hands through his hair. That dangerous spark extinguishes from his eyes.

Des sits heavily on a nearby chair, and now that edgy Des has retreated, I feel my own knees weaken with—what? Relief? Disappointment? Des’s feral side is nearly as appealing as it is frightening. And that might make me sick, but screw it, I’ve known I’m twisted for a long time.

“Forgive me,” he says into his hands. “This bond comes with its own set of barbaric instincts.”

I smooth down my dress, stepping away from the wall.

“I shouldn’t have reacted that way.” He rubs his mouth and chin. “It’s just…it’s particularly difficult to conceive fae children. We don’t see them as burdens.Iwouldn’t see a babe as a burden.”

I feel hot and cold and confused, like someone’s pulled the rug out from under me.

“And I’d hoped,” he continues, “that you wouldn’t see it that way either.”

I search his eyes. “I wouldn’t ever consider a child with you a burden,” I say fervently, “and Idowant that future with you.” The veryideaof it sends a bolt of yearning through me. “Just not yet,” I add. Not when our relationship has only just begun, and there’s so much of him—of us—that I want to discover.

Des’s gaze softens, and I see that hope he spoke of clear on his face.

I clear my throat. “Is that part of the reason you won’t give me the lilac wine?” I ask. “Because it would…affect my fertility?”

This is all conjecture on my part; I have no real idea if the wine would make me like fae women in this regard.

He laughs. “Gods, no. I already stated my reasons for not giving you the wine. And if I were determined to get you pregnant, cherub, I don’t think a little thing like immortality would get in the way.”

The way he’s looking at me has my core heating up.

I let out a breath. “But you do want children?” I ask.

Those shocking silver eyes meet mine. They remind me of light and darkness and everything in between.

“With you?” he says. “Of course.”

I don’t know why that gets to me, why what he says and how he says it tightens my throat, but it does.

Sometimes I forget I really do get to have this life, with all its horror and beauty. With all its messy entanglements. I can reach out and take it whenever I want. More than that, Deswantsme to reach out and take it.

I head toward Des as I face down all my raw, raging emotions.

“I don’t think you’re pregnant,” he says, tilting his head up from his seat as I approach him, “though if you are, we’ll deal with that, cherub, just like everything else—”

I take his face in my hands and silence him with a kiss.

This love between us is bigger than him, bigger than me.

“From flame to ashes, dawn to dusk, for the rest of our lives, be mine always, Desmond Flynn,” I whisper against his lips, reciting the same words that first took him away from me.

They still hold the same wonderful, fearful power they did when I first spoke them, even after paying my tithe for them.

Des draws me closer, pulls me in tighter.

I keep forgetting that beyond his cockiness and power, there’s a part of him that’s vulnerable, unsure. I said those words to him seven years ago, but seven years is a long time to go without hearing them—an eternity for two soul mates.

I feel him shudder against me as he responds, “Till darkness dies.”

Chapter 35

It’s late morning when Des and I enter Mara’s sitting room. So far today, I’ve managed to eat breakfast…then nearly upchuck said breakfast while training with Des.

Oh, the joys of becoming a weapon of mass destruction.

---