Page 62 of Song of the Dawn
“Ezra, I already said yes,” I laughed.
“Say it again,” he demanded, sliding something cool onto my finger.
I stared at a ring of diamonds, glistening in the light, and in the very middle was an amethyst of dark violet that matched the tones of my hair. My heart kicked and my mouth gaped open as I gazed from it to Ezra. “Yes, I’ll marry you. You know my heart; you didn’t have to ask.”
His expression changed as he climbed onto the bed, snatching me in his arms. “When I was in the dungeon, I realized, more than anything, I wanted to fight the sorceress, to live and not give in to her demands. I hoped I’d find a way back to you, and I did not know you’d come to me and use your magic to sway the sorceress’s mind.”
“I didn’t use magic,” I protested as his fingers inched up my dress. “I played the violin, and that was enough.”
“No.” His voice was husky as he kissed me. “The magic was within you.”
“It was the magic of the violin,” I objected weakly, for his fingers were on my thigh, creeping higher.
“Sometimes a legend is only a legend. Wood is only wood, regardless of where it came from. The magic is always within us, within you and me. All we need to do is believe.”
I did not dwell on the meaning of his words as he removed my dress, his clothes following the same path to the floor. Lying on our sides, we made love to each other, slow and sweet, pausing to plant heated kisses on each other’s bodies. And as I lay in the nest of twisted sheets and potent love, I never could have dreamed of a happier moment.
Afterward, when we lay in bed, drowsy, happy, alive, together, I closed my eyes, and faintly, from far off, I could have sworn I heard the strings of a violin. But this tune was not sad and lonely. It was an enchanting litany played for one who’d gone through the depths of darkness and survived a tormented journey to come out the other side, changed, redeemed, forgiven.
