AELIA REVA
AELIA REVA
The world tightens to the space between our hands.
Ulric is closing in so fast my skin prickles at the gray of him. His face is a map I know by heart: the line of his jaw, the soft slope where beard catches at his chin, the way his lips part when he's running on nothing but need. The bond thrums like a second heartbeat between us, loud enough that it drowns the wind. I can feel the echo of him in my limbs, the familiar weight of him already where my fingers will land. My hands reach. His hand reaches. For a thinned, glittering breath we are a single movement, two halves pulling toward each other in a union that has nothing logical in it and everything inevitabl–
Something slams into me.
