Page 5 of Sixth
“So, it’s a leash.”
He met her eyes and didn’t flinch. “It is not a leash. It is a seal.”
She frowned, testing each word. “Seal. That sounds like a prison, or a brand.” She dropped her gaze to her wrist. “It looks like a brand.”
“No,” he said quietly, voice a shade deeper. “A seal protects what lies within it. It does not chain or brand. It preserves.”
“Between us,” she pressed, trying to find footing in language that kept slipping through her fingers.
“Affirmative. Between us. Around us. Through us.” He paused, searching her face. “It means no other can interfere with what is made.”
Her mouth went dry. “Why me?” The words came small and raw. “There were lots of other women Voss was auctioning off. Why not them?”
He looked away for the first time, his jaw flexing. The silence stretched until it became an ache. “Because the Valenmark chose you.”
“That isn’t an answer,” she whispered, frustration rising to cover the fear. “That’s fate, or magic, or something else you don’t want to explain.”
Apex turned back to her, expression unreadable. “You are correct. There is no single answer. There is resonance. There is balance. There is instinct that crosses species and time. That is what I mean when I say you are a perfect match. The Valenmark does not search for reason. It searches for truth.”
She shook her head. “That sounds like the kind of thing people say when they don’t have to live with the consequences.”
His eyes softened, amethyst burning low in the dim light. “Then let me say it in a way you will understand. Ido not knowwhy it chose you, only that it did. And now that it has, neither of us can undo it.”
“You don’t know me.” The protest sounded thin even toher.
“I do not need to.” His voice roughened. “The mark is not random. It is older than my people. Older than yours. It is more rare than the most precious jewel. It does not mistake.”
The pulse under her skin throbbed harder, sending a shiver of warmth spiraling up her arm into her chest. When she looked back, his pupils had widened until the metallic rims were only a thin ring of light. The cabin became charged, the way the world becomes a breath before storm wind hits a field and sets it running.
“You don’t get to tell me what it means,” she whispered.
“I am not telling you what to think.” He stepped closer again, slow enough to give her a chance to move. “I am telling you what is.”He was close enough now that when he spoke, his breath brushed her cheek. “You feel it. Do not deny it.”
She swallowed. “You’re very sure of yourself.”
“No.” His reply was quiet. “I am sure of you.”
Heat climbed her throat. His eyes dipped once to her mouth and lifted again. The space between them turned molten. She raised her hand to her wrist without thinking, and his fingers closed over her fingers before she reached themark.
The contact struck like a spark against metal. Light flared under their joined hands. Energy tore through her so suddenly that her knees went loose. He reached with his other hand, steadying her waist.
“Breathe,” he said.
“I am breathing.” It came out as a lie. She dragged air into her lungs and braced.
“It is the mark.” His hand stayed at her waist. “It is aligning our rhythms.”
“Aligning us?” Her voice shook and made her angry. “What are we, binary stars?”
“Something more volatile.” His mouth moved as if a real smile might escape. It did not. The constraint he kept on himself was a kind of armor.
“You enjoy this.”
He shook his head. “I endure it,” he said. “Barely.”
They stood like that until the heat ebbed into a steady throb. The Valenmark adjusted to the rhythm of their hearts. She studied his face, searching for softness and finding none. There was only the clean planes of a warrior’s face honed by discipline. His skin caught the faintest reflection of cabin light across the hard line of his cheekbones, the suggestion of muscle beneath. It was all solid, unyielding power—not beauty carved from light, but from endurance. He was impossible and arresting and not safe to look at for toolong.
“What happens if I break it?” she asked.
