“You mean like the thing where I’m in the shower, thinking about you, and when I get out, you’re right there to handle those needs?”
“That I like.” I cockily grin. “Feeling your nervous energy during our entire drive here? Not so much.”
“You felt that?”
“Yeah, but I didn’t wanna bring light to it because I knew what was causing it and was already prepared to fix it. Sharing an emotional tie will be an intense experience neither of us can ever stop, only figure out how to manage. And I’m told it’s not easy.”
She offers me a softened expression on an encouraging chin kick. “What else?”
“We die together.”
“Like a murder,” she points inward prior to sending it my direction, “suicide?”
“Like when I die, you die or when you die, I die type of thing. Our souls are intertwined, and our lifelines lock. It’s why my parents died together, and it’s the reason why a shifter’s lifespan gets cut significantly shorter if their human Fated Mate chooses not to bond with them. When they die of an illness or – if they’re lucky old age –, their shifter Fated Mate dies, too.”
“What the fuck?! That’s not fair! I have the worst luck! Yeah, much better now that you’re around, but still pretty shitty on my own! Let’s not even talk about the fender bender I was in on my way home from the interview or the roller-skates I tripped over in the driveway-”
“We should probably unpack that.”
She brushes if off with a quick headshake as the rotating machine stops again. “I’m not magical or mythical or even fucking graceful! You mean to tell me one bad day for me once we’re bonded, and we’re both dead?!”
Comfort.
“Take a deep breath, Tiny Toes,” I calmly insist and extend an open palm for her.
She lets out an exasperated sigh yet drops her fingers into mine.
“You become much more Stretch Armstrong-like once we bond.”
It’s impossible for her not to grin over the reference.
“You’re no longer vulnerable to Sleeper illnesses, like cancer for example, and also become quite a bit less penetrable to non-enchanted or realm crafted weapons.”
“Bulletproof?!”
“More like bullet resistant.”
An impressed nod is presented.
“It’s a result of what occurs during our bonding session. I not only come inside you, but my teeth take their dragon form, and I latch onto your neck hard enough to draw blood as it happens. Afterward, I lick the wounds clean, sealing them closed. It’s painful as fuck – even though you like when I leave hickeys on you now, I swear to you it will hurt. It’s much harder and much deeper.”
“You sound like you’re promising me a good time…”
Her levity-filled voice tells me exactly what her mouth refuses, so I sternly add, “If I hit the wrong vein or some shit, that’s it.” Seriousness remains in my stare. “Roll credits. End of show forever.”
This time worry reaches the dark brown gaze I can’t get enough of.
“So yeah, Tiny Toes. Guess you could say I’m not quite ready to risk losing the best thing to ever happen to me.” Holding her eyes hostage, I lovingly announce, “My life didn’t start when I was born four hundred and fifty years ago. It started the night I met you.” I hunch over to brush a kiss on her knuckles. “And I’d rather die that many deaths than do anything to hurt you.”
Silence swirls around the small compartment, leaving my honesty to simply linger in the air.
Truth.
It was.
Proud.
You should be! Sayin’ shit like that is hard as fuck.
Love.
I love her, too. That’s why I’m not so sure I can bond. What if I fucking kill her?
Won’t.
“Fine…” Ana sheepishly states as we reach the very top of the ride. “Maybe we hold off on bonding just a little longer.”
Nodding is absentmindedly done.
“We can just play hide-and-seek when we get home…” Her eyebrows bounce in a suggestive manner. “Your cock can hide in my mouth and seek my throat.”
Hungry growls leak past my gritted teeth to meet her sexy snickers.
Perfect.
You know what, Gold? She really fucking is.
There are worse things in life than having your future baby daddy hum the Fresh Prince of Bel-Air theme song – thanks to being woken up by an early morning blowjob – while painting your toes glittery gold for your first day at a new gig.
Like having him murder you on your honeymoon to collect your life insurance or push you overboard on a cruise during your fifth anniversary trip so he can run away with his secretary, leaving your eight kids to be raised by your parents who thought their time raising kids was way over.
Watching the crime docuseries Death Do Us Part probably isn’t the best choice of entertainment before work for most people, but eh.
What can I say?
It brings me comfort.
I blame Abel for my addiction to this shit and Abe, his twin, for my love of horror movies. It’s what used to connect us as kids and has kept us connected as adults. Random middle of the night texts from Abel to check out a new series or promises from Abe to treat me to the latest slasher when he can find a day to get off early – something he can’t just do in spite of being one of the CEOs and his brother being the other – give us ways to be active in each other’s lives as we grow older. Truthfully, I work hard to stay present in all their lives and push them to be more involved with one another. I’m the one who arranges the holidays – usually on a borrowed cell – and fusses when too much time has passed between them checking in with the other siblings. I remind them how Mom would not approve of that type of neglect towards one another and how Dad used to stress every time he was home the importance of watching out for one another. It’s funny to me that all of my brothers are so very different between hobbies, careers, and general life choices – like how half are commitment-phobes and half aren’t – yet all are so extremely similar that it’s Windex clear that they’re related.
That we’re all related.
Stubbornness is hereditary.
I don’t care what the textbooks say.
I know that one reason I am this headstrong – better branding – is because my parents were. They had to be. To love who they loved at a time when it wasn’t welcome, to ensure they could feed the number of children they had, and to make sure we knew different things about all our ancestors took tenacity of an admirable kind.