Page 155 of Balance

“I’m not expecting anything from you,” Miles said, somehow, interpreting my thoughts. “Except maybe one thing.”

My mouth went dry. “What’s that?”

“Will you bond with me?” he asked. “I’m ready now. I think we’rebothready now. Unless I’m interpreting this wrong?”

This time, my racing heart had nothing to do with fear. There was no one here with us, and no one watching over our shoulders. It was only Miles and me, and the unknown.

“I didn’t ask before,” I said. “But I’m curious. How will it work? I can feel Julian’s emotions—is it going to be the same?”

“No,” Miles answered. “Our bonds are all different—and change slightly with each life.”

“Do we bond in every life?” I twisted a button on his shirt.

Miles frowned, his smooth expression fading. “Also no.”

The mood had darkened, and a pang of hesitance caused my movements to slow. I was a curious person, and normally I’d press for an answer—especially for such a cryptic statement. But…

This seemed to be a touchy subject.

“Is it… hard to do?” I asked instead, because—logistics or not—this was what Miles had wanted—and what I’d been asking for. “What do you think our bond will be like?”

He grinned, a shy yet wonderfully endearing expression. “Do you want to find out?”

“O-okay…” Why was my stomach twisting? The time for nervousness had long passed.

Miles moved to his feet, pulling at his sleeve in the process and, without fanfare, pulled at the seams, causing the fabric to rip.

“What are you doing?” I jumped up; my gaze filled with bulging biceps. It wasn’t that I minded the view—but it was nighttime, and we were in the middle of the woods, inOctober, with only the warmth of a dying campfire. Why would he proceed to stripnow?

And besides, he’d better not expect me to fix this. I’d had enough with mending clothes.

“Just wait,” he replied, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a knife, and, as he cut the sleeve into a long circular strip, he continued. “There’s a bunch of different ways we can do it, but the easiest is this: I wrap our wrists with a cloth, speak a blessing—”

“You want to do ahandfasting?” I interrupted, but how could I allow this madness to continue? We’d had all these discussions about none of us being allowed to date, and especially marry, and now he wanted to enter in the olden version of holy matrimony.

Was heinsane?

And even more importantly, I was already legally wed!

“It’snota handfasting,” Miles said mildly, only glancing at me once as he began to fold the long strip of cloth. “But yes, it’slikethat. We all bond differently, and witches like ritual.”

“So you’re not asking me to marry you?” I blurted, still trying to calm my racing heart.

Thatquestion made Miles pause, and he glanced at me, the firelight and shadow highlighting his raised eyebrow. But the muted tones still weren’t enough to disguise his reddening cheeks. “You know we can’t do that,” was his response.

My heart fell—even though, really, what did I expect? I’d already gotten comfortable with the idea it would never happen, or so I thought. Besides, I was, technically, married to Bryce.

“Of course,” I replied instead. “That would be silly.”

“But I can dothis,” he said, grabbing my hand and kissing the tip of my finger. He held up the knife, pressing the back of it over the side of my hand. “Do you trust me?”

I was staring at the blade now, my nervousness returning. “Are you going to stab me?” Did hereallyknow what he was doing?

“Only a little.” The corner of Miles’s lips lifted. “It won’t hurt much.”

Since when does it not hurt to be stabbed?

He didn’t wait for my response—instead, he released my fingers and ran the blade over my left wrist.