Page 219 of Sienna Rossi: Beyond Shattered Trust

I look away. “Obviously.”

“I’m sorry I forced you into it… But there wasn’t another choice.”

“Yeah, I know.” I take her hand, turning it over in mine. Her fingers are smaller than mine, delicate in comparison. “I won’t ever use it.”

“I know.”

“No, you don’t.” My voice comes out rougher than intended. “You know I don’t want to. That’s different.”

Her gaze lifts to mine.

“I won’t use it,” I repeat. “Not in anger. Not by accident. Not through the bond. Not even if we’re arguing and you’re being a stubborn Rossi.”

She blinks, and then her brows rise. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

“I’m the stubborn one?”

“Yes.”

“Says the man who made being stubborn his entire lifestyle.”

Despite myself, I smirk. “You’re saying I was so stubborn it was my entire personality?”

“Yes, that actually sounds even better. You are far more stubborn.”

Her smile softens. She knows why I was stubborn, and beyond the playfulness, I can see the warmth in her eyes.

“Well, for what it’s fucking worth, it wasn’t easy being that stubborn.”

I slide my hand up to her face, brushing my thumb along her cheek.

“But I’m serious. We’ll do the ritual now, and then I need you.”

She blushes, and it does the job as she looks down, a small smile appearing on her face.

“So, what is the ritual?”

“I slice my hand. You drink a few drops of my blood, and I speak the necessary words. Ahren’s sent them to me.”

“That sounds fairly simple, even if a little strange.”

I smirk as I gaze at her. “It is, but then again, so is our entire fucking world.”

“That is true.”

I take my phone out, looking at the words one final time, wanting to do this just right. I raise my thumb to my lips and pierce the skin before bringing it to her lips. She tilts her head back and takes my thumb into her mouth, sucking on it.

A dangerous current of pleasure rushes through me, her eyes darkening as she looks me in the eye, and I repeat the words in a tongue I don’t understand, but I know what they mean. I made sure I did. When it involves the most precious thing to me, I had to know.

Blood given. Blood taken. By the old law, this bond is sealed. No voice shall bind her, no command shall claim her, save by the name carved upon her soul. Nyth’arael. By that name alone shall obedience wake. Until it is spoken, her will is her own. Thus sworn. Thus sealed. Thus bound.

I feel the shift in the air as a soft gasp escapes her, and her eyes look almost glassy as she stares at me, removing my thumb from her mouth.

“Yes, My Lord,” she says, her voice clear and empty.

My stomach twists as she lowers her head before she blinks and looks at me, almost as if she had gotten distracted for a moment. She shakes her head as I grip her face.