Between Tides Thunder(35)
Another laugh escapes me, and he smiles broadly, as if the sound brings him joy. “You didn’t try half as hard as he did. I’m a little offended, if I’m being honest.”
Tears stream down my cheeks from laughter. Zevayr just watches me, eyes bright, his lips curved in a half-smile.
When my laughter subsides, a question lingers on my tongue. I quietly ask, “That couple I told you about, the one caught power sharing … they were just, they—” My face flushes, and I can’t finish my sentence, but Zevayr understands anyway.
“I’ve known couples who power share for … recreational purposes.”
“Have you ever done it?” The words escape before I can cage them.
He shakes his head. “It takes a great deal of trust.” Something soft flickers behind his eyes. “It’s not something I’ve found yet.”
We sit in silence before I can summon the words.
“Thank you.” He arches a brow. “For saving my life. I would’ve died if you hadn’t shared your power with me.” I cut my gaze away. “And … for not taking advantage of me last night. I know I didn’t make it easy on you.” My eyes linger on the love bites lining his neck. “And for your kindness about it now.”
He doesn’t say anything for several heartbeats, his gray eyes just studying me with something akin to wonder. Then slowly, his lips curve into a soft, genuine smile.
We’re packing up camp when he says, “You called me Zev last night.”
I freeze. That’s what his friend had called him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“I liked it,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “It reminded me that … maybe I’m still someone worth trusting.”
My chest squeezes tight.
“So, yeah,” he continues, eyes flicking to mine. “You can call me Zev. If you want.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
ZEV AND I TRAVEL for another week. We’re mere days from the Arbinji army base, and the thought fills me with trepidation.
Everything will change.
I will be wed.
There will be peace.
But my resolve doesn’t feel as strong as it did when I left Tundrayn. I glance sideways at Zev, walking beside me.
I pretend I don’t know why.
“What will the wedding be like?” I ask that night after we’ve eaten.
“Opulent. Majestic. A bit boring, honestly.” The firelight casts long shadows across his cheekbones.
I roll my eyes. “I mean the ceremony itself. What do I have to do?”
“Walk down an aisle. Say a few vows. Promise to act in the best interests of Arbinj.” He thinks for a minute, eyes scrunched. “And there’s a dance at the reception.”
“Dance?”
He glances at me. “Yeah. Ballroom dance?”
I stare at him blankly. An owl hoots somewhere in the trees.
“You don’t have dancing in Tundrayn?”
“We have dancing,” I huff, crossing my arms. “The drum dance.” He arches a brow. “Lots of swaying? Stamping in time with drum beats? Swaying hips?”
His lips quirk. “There’s no stamping in a ballroom dance.”
I bite my lip, brows furrowing.
He rises to his feet, dusting off his pants before offering me his hand. “Here, I’ll show you. It’s easy.”
His smile is soft, and a warmth fizzles inside me that has nothing to do with the crackling fire. This is a horrible idea—whatever this is—but I don’t want it to stop.
Still, I don’t move, and he clasps my hand and tugs me to my feet.
“Zev, there’s no music,” I laugh.
He looks so happy, a wide smile brightening his face. I don’t want to dim the glow in his eyes.
“We’ll manage,” he murmurs. He positions my hand on his shoulder, while his finds the curve of my waist. With his other hand, he intertwines our fingers, raising our joined hands in the cool night air. “Just follow my lead. Step when I step.”
He’s a natural, swaying me effortlessly to a rhythm I can’t match.
“You’re very good,” I breathe. His molten gray gaze snares my own, and I couldn’t look away even if I wanted to. Something warm and tender and right wells in my chest. Something dangerous.
“My mother taught me.”
While Zev glides across the ground, I … well, stamp. On his feet. Several times.
After the third time, he whispers, “Come up onto my feet, Mayah.”
“No, I—”
His hands bracket my waist, lifting me until I’m balanced precariously on his boots. His soft smile clouds my reservations. My hands wind around his neck, chest brushing against his with every breath.
And just like that, we dance. The world falls away, and it’s only the two of us, beneath the light of the moon, dancing to the music of rustling leaves and the gentle whisper of wind.
Zev’s gaze stays locked on mine, lit with something that looks achingly like longing. He leans in, slow and measured, until only inches separate us. His eyes drop to my lips—lingering—then rise again to meet mine, dark with intent.
“Mayah…” He whispers my name like I’m his salvation.