Chapter Seventeen
He descended down upon Beulah like an angel of light. Yehfe took her hand in his. His long fingers curled around her left hand, obfuscating the faded marks on her ill-used ring finger. Beulah’s heart raced as the heat from the palm of his hand met with the backs of her fingers, and then her knuckles.
Yehfe turned her hand over. He brought the center of her palm to his lips. His lips were soft, warm. He whispered into her palm. The words were in his own language. But the meaning translated. This was an invocation.
His large eyes opened and his gaze trained on her. Beulah felt trapped, pinned in his gaze. He lowered her hand but did not let it go. He brought the palm of her hand to his chest, moving aside the robes to press her flesh to his skin.
Beulah’s fingers trembl
