He laughed, the sound raw and relieved, and kissed me again like he was starving.
The elders stepped forward. One carried a silver blade, the other the crown—delicate and fierce, and so beautiful.
They spoke in the old tongue first, then in words we could all understand.
“Stretch forth your right hands.”
Maximus went first. The blade kissed his palm. Blood welled instantly, bright red against his skin. He didn’t even blink.
Then me. The cut stung, sharp and clean. I hissed. He squeezed my fingers in warning—Don’t pull away.
The elder pressed our bleeding palms together.
The second the blood touched, fire shot through my veins. Every nerve lit up like I’d been struck by lightning. Pleasure and power and him—everything that was Maximus—poured into me. My knees buckled.
He caught me i
