Trusted Bond

that. And we both know that I
    can take care of you but if anyone doubts me, if anyone wants to test my
    ability to protect you then they can meet me in the pit and I will educate
    them. My mate will never be taken from me again; I will kill anyone that
    tries.‖
    The last was spoken with icy assurance. ―I don‘t doubt you, you
    know that.‖
    ―I do.‖
    I cleared my throat. ―Because I‘m yours.‖
    His crooked grin, the one that made his eyes melt. ―Yes, you are.‖
    I leaned into him, wrapping my arms back around his neck, kissing
    him in that ravenous way he loved. I felt him smile against my mouth, and
    he held me tight, his arms so strong.
    170

    Mary Calmes

    ―We‘re never gonna get out of here, and we should, we don‘t wanna
    piss off the priest.‖
    ―He said when I calmed we would see him… when .‖
    ―When,‖ he agreed.
    I tried to move, but he tightened his grip, leaning down and biting
    the curve of my shoulder before licking his way back up the side of my
    neck to my jaw. When I turned into him, he kissed me again. The second
    kiss was wetter, with more tongue than the first, and when he pulled back,
    lips hovering just over mine, I called his name, arching up into him.
    ―My mate,‖ he growled, his lips on my throat seconds before his
    teeth. ―You will carry marks on you, but only mine, only ever mine.‖
    It was all I wanted.

    I KEPT calling it a villa, but really, it was more of a palace. There were
    different sections of it that were basically connected by walkways and
    bridges, covered archways, and terraces. The main hall was in what Logan
    called the palace proper, or the oldest part of the structure.
    Logan led me into an enormous area filled with people sitting on the
    floor. It was like a giant living room with area rugs and throw pillows and
    low tables with groups of men and women clustered around them. The
    space was cool, open on all four sides so the wind could blow through, and
    servers moved through the crowd, putting trays of food down on the short,
    large coffee tables, filling goblets with ice water, and pouring glasses of
    tea and wine. There was a constant buzz of conversation and beautiful
    music lilting in the background. The musicians in one corner of the vast
    room drew my attention, and my gaze swept over the harp, cello, violin,
    and the lyre. As Logan led me through the maze of tables, snaking behind
    people sitting, I was pleased by not even being given a second look.
    ―Logan Church!‖
    And just like that, I felt every eye on us. I made a noise in the back
    of my throat.
    ―It‘s okay,‖ he soothed me under his breath, turning his head to look
    toward the front of the room, toward the dais. ―Your grace,‖ he answered,
    his deep, gravelly voice carrying.
    ―Come.‖
    Trusted Bond

    171

    Logan changed direction, tugging me after him, his fingers laced
    with mine, and I was careful where I stepped, not wanting to accidentally
    trip and fall into someone‘s lap or take a header down into their food.
    ―Here you are,‖ the priest sighed, rising as we reached the edge of
    the dais that he and many others were gathered on. There was a large table
    there, built, as were the others, low to the ground, but long so that many
    could sit around it comfortably. At the center was now what looked like
    the carcass of a goat, people leaning in at intervals to break pieces off of it
    and eat it.
    Logan sank down onto one knee, and I mirrored the movement, in
    perfect sync with my mate.
    ―Come,‖ the priest said, using his hands to gesture for room to be
    made on his right. Clearly he wanted Logan and me there.
    I watched as his phocal, Jamal Hassan, rose to create space for us.
    Everyone had to slide down, the strangers I didn‘t know, so that Logan
    and I could sit. The semel-aten and his yareah were on the priest‘s left, but
    them he didn‘t ask to move.
    When Logan and I were close enough, we both sank to our knees
    again.
    ―Logan Church,‖ Hamid Shamon greeted him, ―please, rise and
    present your reah.‖
    After a moment, Logan rose, and the instant he did, amazingly, the
    hall went still and silent. I inched closer, feeling vulnerable, wanting to
    lean into him but holding myself in check.
    ―I am Logan Church, semel-re of the tribe of Mafdet,‖ he said, his
    voice rising, lifting as he stepped sideways so everyone could see me there
    beside him on the platform, his hand on my back, ―and this is my reah, my
    mate, Jin