Total pages in book: 362
Estimated words: 347293 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1736(@200wpm)___ 1389(@250wpm)___ 1158(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 347293 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1736(@200wpm)___ 1389(@250wpm)___ 1158(@300wpm)
“That occupied?”
One side of his lips kicked up. “It’s also possible your senses are only beginning to heighten.” Lashes lowered, shielding his gaze. “It’s not always immediate, and it often happens in stages that can take a few hours. Even days.”
I glanced around the bedchamber again. Heavy drapes shielded the balcony doors. “How long did it take for you?”
The cool tips of his fingers grazed the swell of my breast as he caught a curl and drew it back over my shoulder and behind my ear. “My vision was immediate.”
I rolled my eyes. “Of course.”
His grin kicked up a notch. “My hearing improved within several hours, but it took a couple of days for the rest.”
“The rest?”
“Sensing the subtle shifts in those around me and the environment,” he explained, causing my frown to deepen because I wasn’t at all sure what that was supposed to mean. “And understanding the draken took a few days.”
Surprise flickered through. I stared at him, and then that strange sense of knowing kicked in. Ash really could understand the draken. All Ascended Primals could, as well as some of the oldest gods.
I’d thought he’d been joking or only sensed what they thought by knowing their emotions. But it was a combination of both. Sensing their general moods or needs and being able to hear their thoughts.
“It’s called te’lepe,” he continued. “A bond of sorts. A notam that allows the draken to transfer their thoughts to us. One can even form between them and gods, depending on how comfortable they feel with the god.”
Notam? I frowned. Hadn’t Attes mentioned that? I tried to imagine hearing the draken’s voices in my mind and couldn’t. “They can’t hear us like that, can they?”
Ash shook his head. “I cannot, but I do believe my father could speak directly with them. So, you should be able to eventually.”
I started to draw my lower lip between my teeth, catching the flesh on the tip of a fang before I could process what he said. “Gods,” I hissed, wincing. “I’m not going to have a lip left at this rate.”
He laughed roughly, the sound barely audible. Still, I heard the difference in the timbre. I loved his laughs because, like me, I knew he’d lived a long time without laughter. But now, there was a weightless quality to the sound. No restraint. A reminder that he no longer kept large portions of himself closed off from me.
Even though my lip stung, I dipped my head, bringing my mouth to his. The kiss started gentle, a soft proclamation of love, but a spark ignited, fanning the flames of desire coursing through our veins. His mouth molded to mine, catching the small droplets of blood I’d drawn. He parted my lips with his tongue, and he tasted like the oak and spice of the whiskey he’d drunk before I fell asleep.
And I knew that if I kept kissing him, we’d never leave this bed.
Reluctantly, I lifted my mouth from his and then collapsed onto my back with all the grace of a feral hog. “So…” I glanced over at Ash. His lips were still parted and slightly swollen, and the hue of his irises was a heated silver streaked with brilliant lines of eather—the Primal essence. The way he looked at me as if he wished to devour me… Gods. I quickly averted my gaze before I lost the rest of the restraint I was barely holding on to.
I cleared my throat. “I wonder how long it will take me to develop your special hearing. Hours? Days? Weeks?”
“It shouldn’t take weeks.” Ash settled onto his side, propping up his head with a fist.
“What if it does?” I questioned, twisting the ends of my hair between my fingers.
“It won’t.”
“You sound so confident.” Meanwhile, I teetered on the edge of an anxiety spiral, even though I knew it was unnecessary. That was the messed-up thing about my mind that hadn’t changed during the Ascension. Knowing there was no reason to worry didn’t mean I wouldn’t. It usually meant I worried more. “It’s not like it’s impossible. I was mortal. I wasn’t supposed to Ascend. Something could’ve gone wrong. If it did, you’ll need to, I don’t know, exchange me for a…non-faulty Primal.”
“Possibly.”
My mouth dropped open, and my gaze slid to his.
Ash winked.
“Don’t you be cute and wink,” I ordered. “Possibly?”
He laughed, the sound still unshackled. “As if I would ever consider such a thing. Even if it were possible, which it’s not.” He caught my hand, pulling it away from my hair. “There’s no one else for me but you. There never has been,” he said, and my breath snagged, our gazes locking. “And there never will be.”
“There is no one but you,” I swore. “Ever.”
“I know.” His jaw hardened just a fraction, but his gaze was still soft and warm. “Which is why I’m still a little angry with you.”