I cried out in response, pulling back as he did the same to himself and reached for my arm once more. “Don’t be dramatic,” he said, lips quirking. “That didn’t even hurt!”
My eyes were trained on the very light, and barely bleeding, cut over my wrist. He wasn’t wrong—it didn’t hurt very much at all. In fact, this was nothing like I’d imagined; I’d expected a witch’s bloodletting ritual to be a bit more extreme.
“Did it actually hurt?” he asked, his confidence fading.
My breath seized and my heart fluttered as his fist closed over mine. In the moment my attention had shifted, he’d already used his right hand to tie our wrists together.
His skin stuck to mine, our blood mixing together, and the snug wrappings holding me prisoner against him. Miles had always been larger than me, but sometimes it was easy to forget the differences between us—especially when compared to Titus, who was taller than the witch.
I stared up at him, soft brown eyes earnestly studying my reaction. The full effect of his appeal hit me once more. “It’s fine.” My mouth was dry—now I found myself unable to look away from his lips.
What was with all thiskissing? Never in a million years would I have been okay with this before.
This wasn’t like me at all.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Bianca
Bond
“What do we do next?” I asked.
“Just remember”—his fingers tightened over my hand—“our relationship won’t be like what you have with Julian—we’re different.”
“Obviously,” I replied, feeling myself frown.
My response made him pause, and his brows raised. The pulse between us wavered. “Is that bad?” he said slowly, not even bothering to disguise the fear in his voice. “I know he’s not as messed up in the head, but—”
I couldn’t help but interrupt. “I think we’re all messed up in the head.” Seriously, Miles had a better handle on life than I did, so if he thought things were hopeless…
Then where did that leave me? I wasn’t even a good empath.
He sighed, pressing his face into my shoulder. “As always, your insight leaves me speechless.”
Even though we were holding hands, and were quite literally tied together, his breath brushing over my shoulder made my face warm. And what was he even talking about—whatinsight?
I was merely stating a fact.
The last of the fire flickered and died, and only the moon was left to light the night sky.
So it was quite eerie when Miles spoke suddenly in low words whispered against my ear. “As my blood flows free, our souls join as one.”
My breath caught, and my heartbeat echoed through me; I could feel it down to my fingertips and the bottom of my toes.
It was the same as the ritual in Miles’s book. What were the odds?
And if it was the same, then what would happen next?
“Say it after me.” His words sounded like a plea.
Goosebumps broke out over my skin, but I obeyed. “A-a-as my blood flows free, our souls join as one.”
“And so I promise to uphold my contract with you,” he finished the words—exactly like the book.
“And so I promise to uphold my contract with you.”
As the echo of my words faded, a shiver shot down my spine. My lungs began to ache with disuse as I held my breath, waiting for the other shoe to fall.