“We are married. It’s official, except for the crowning, but there is another tradition.”
My throat dried. “The Joining?”
He blinked once and then twice. “I’m trying very hard not to laugh.”
“What? That is a tradition, right? I asked Vonetta about it—”
“Oh, my gods.” He dragged his hand down his face.
“And she said—”
“It’s not about that,” he cut in. “It’s about us. Just you and me, and the tradition of sharing ourselves with one another.”
“Oh,” I whispered, and now my mind was happily playing around in a very inappropriate place. “Like…sex?”
He stared at me. “I really enjoy the way your mind works, but that’s not exactly what I was talking about.”
“Well.” My face heated. “This is awkward.”
Casteel laughed as he cupped my cheek. “Don’t feel awkward. I meant it when I said I love the way your mind works. But it’s a tradition for a couple to share blood after a wedding. It’s not required. Like I said, it’s merely tradition, one meant to strengthen the bonds of marriage. Not doing it doesn’t change anything—”
“But doing it changes what?”
“It…it’s an act of trust.” His hand slid from my face. “It’s a pledge to share everything. It’s mostly symbolic.”
My heart was pounding again, and the bodice of the dress suddenly felt too tight. It was clear that this was something he wanted, even if it was only symbolic. Possibly even something he’d once envisioned himself doing with Shea before…well, before. I felt a surge of anger and pity for a woman who’d been dead for more years than I’d been alive, but it still took a lot for me to push those feelings aside.
“And I know the idea of drinking blood isn’t exactly appetizing to you. So, I understand if you don’t—”
“I do.”
He leaned back, his eyes turning bright. “Is it because you want to or because I’m asking.”
“How often have I done things you’ve wanted, but I haven’t?”
He laughed. “Good point.” The humor faded from his eyes, replaced by a devouring sort of intensity. “If you’re sure. One hundred percent sure?”
“I am.”
“Thank fuck.” He started to reach for me but drew up short. “We need to take off that dress. Netta will have my ass if I return it to her wrinkled.” His gaze lifted to mine. “And I have a feeling it’s going to get very wrinkled.”
So did I.
Pulse thrumming, I stood and reached for one strap. Casteel followed, taking hold of the other. “Are there buttons?”
I shook my head.
“Thank the gods again,” he murmured as he dragged the strap free of my arm. “Because I would likely just give up and tear the thing.”
“You usually have better patience than that.” The dress gathered at my hips.
“Sometimes.” Eyeing the slip, he helped me step out of the gown. “But not when it comes to you.”
“I don’t think that’s true,” I said as he started to toss the gown. I stopped him. “I’ll take that.”
His lips pursed as I laid the gown on the chaise. He waited for me at the corner of the bed. “I really have a thing for you and little ridiculous straps.” He reached out, placing his hands on my ribs. He pulled the material taut against me. “And your breasts, but they are not ridiculous or little. Regardless, I have a thing for them, too.”
“Thank you?” I said as he walked around me, sliding his hand across my stomach. He laughed, and the sound was part relief and part need. I didn’t need my abilities to know that. I started to reach for the clasp on the necklace.
“Leave it.” He glanced down. “And the dagger.”
My brows raised. “Seriously?”
“When will you realize I speak the truth?” The tilt of his lips was wicked. “It turns me on when you’re armed with something sharp.”
“There’s something so entirely wrong with you.”
He came around to my front. “But you like what’s wrong with me.”
“There is something wrong with me, too.” I looked up at him. “Because I do.”
“I know.” He touched my cheek. “I’ve always known you like that I enjoy when you make me bleed.”
Casteel kissed me and it felt like the first time our lips had ever touched. In a way, it was a first kiss, and Casteel and I had more than one first. With each truth, each change, it was like starting all over again but with all the experience and memories. And kissing Casteel was like daring to kiss the sun. I placed my hands against his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin through his shirt and this—all of this—was another first, because I kissed without once worrying if I should, without wondering if I would regret it. I kissed with abandon, and there was a freedom in that I had never known before.