“Yes.”

Oh. Well, she couldn’t argue with caution then, even if her own emotions were riotous. She was grateful he hadn’t taken advantage of her ignorance.

“But Baojia calls Natalie his mate.”

“Because for him she is, even if they haven’t exchanged blood. Once she becomes vampire, she’ll take his blood and he’ll take hers. It will tie them on an elemental level. Their amnis will join and…”

“I felt your amnis in me,” she said. “When I took your blood.”

“I offered it to you. I wanted you to take it. There’s no obligation, Makeda.”

She paused, her chest feeling tight and full. “Do you want my blood?”

His eyes told her without words. They flared with heat, and she saw his fangs lengthen behind his lips.

She let out a slow breath. “How do you know? We’ve only known each other—”

“We’ve known each other for months. Worked together for months. And been through a very soul-stripping experience. I have been alive more than two thousand years,” he said. “You are my match, Makeda. I am certain of it.”

So am I. Makeda couldn’t say the words even as her heart screamed them. She wasn’t a sentimental creature and she never had been. She had to examine this urge to cling to Lucien. Was it healthy? Codependence? Grasping the familiar in an unfamiliar world? Until she had more time, more confidence, and more familiarity with this life, she could never admit how much she wanted Lucien to belong to her.

He tugged her down to his mouth by the curl twisted around his finger. “You’ll know when you know,” he said. “We have plenty of time. Until then, feel free to take as much of my blood as you like.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” He nipped at her full lips. “I love how it feels. Plus it will make you stronger. My amnis is very old.”

She crawled over him, throwing a leg over his thighs. He was roused and ready; so was Makeda.

“Only if you’re sure,” she said, closing her eyes when he palmed her breasts and stroked.

His hands slid down her sides, gripped her hips, and lifted her onto his erection. “Very, very sure.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Lucien slept that day in the bosom of the earth, Makeda curled against his chest, his blood humming in her body. He could hear the crash of the falls overhead and the everyday sounds of humans as they went about their business. Goats and sheep trod over them, birds hopped, and children laughed and ran. And they rested, cradled by the red earth and the roots and rocks that sheltered them.

Makeda wasn’t a fastidious lover, for which Lucien was extremely grateful. He enjoyed getting dirty with a partner. Enjoyed cleaning up just as much. And with Makeda…

It was unlike anything else. She existed with him now, a part of his soul residing outside his body. He was heady with possession and knew Kato and Gedeyon would have to be careful for a few days. Until Lucien felt more balanced, any immortal his instincts told him could be competition would be in danger.

If Makeda were ready to offer her blood, it would be a moot point. But currently he resided in her blood. She didn’t reside in his. Her trust humbled him. She’d fallen asleep in his arms knowing that he hungered for her. He would never take her blood without her consent.

Not like you took her life.

Lucien’s conscience ate at him, but he pushed the quiet voice back. Makeda was happy. She’d laughed the night before. Smiled when they made love. She would be content when she was his. He would make sure of it. She’d never stare at the horizon again, searching for oblivion in the sunrise.

She would be his.

The other piece of his soul stirred and turned toward him, burying her face in his neck as she nuzzled closer.

Yene konjo. Yene hiwot.

My beauty. My life.

She was beauty to him. She had a bump on her nose, a scar on her chin, and slightly knobby knees. Her ears were uneven on her head, and nothing could be more beautiful. He’d noticed it the night before, and the imperfection had delighted him. As did the distant look she got when she was thinking over a problem. She’d stare into the distance and focus inward. Her internal musings would hold the entirety of her attention, and Lucien would be forgotten. But when Makeda came back to herself, her eyes lit with the joy of a traveler returning home. It was as if she’d found the greatest adventure in her mind.

“Kiss me with the kisses of your mouth,” he whispered as she stirred in his arms. “For your love is more delightful than wine.”

Her eyes remained closed. “My beloved is like a gazelle or a young stag,” she whispered. “But really he’s more like a lion.”

Lucien smiled. “You know Song of Solomon.”

“My father is a theological scholar. I read the Bible backward and forward whether I wanted to or not.” Her eyes opened with a glint. “But as a young girl, I may have found Song of Solomon the most tempting.”

“Makeda,” he breathed her name across her cheek. “My queen.”

“Is the sun down?”

He nodded.

“So we need to go back.”

“Only if you want to. We could stay here another night if you wish.”

“We shouldn’t.” She scraped a hand over her eyes and smiled. “We’re filthy.”

He glanced around the hollow he’d created in the earth. It was cozy to him, but he suspected it wasn’t to everyone’s taste. “It’s good clean dirt.”