Page 41 of These Hallowed Bones (Bloody Desires #3)
By the time the last guests departed, exhaustion settled deep in my bones.
The gallery director hugged me tightly while whispering congratulations and predictions of skyrocketing prices after the glowing reviews she anticipated.
The cleaning crew began gathering empty glasses and rearranging furniture as we said our final goodbyes.
"Did you notice the young man in the navy blazer?" Ezra asked as we walked to his car. "The one studying your fourth piece all evening?"
"The art student?" I replied while sliding into the passenger seat. "He kept taking photos when he thought no one was looking."
I reached immediately for my moth, pulling it from beneath the seat where I'd stashed it before the exhibition.
I squeezed it against my chest with my maimed hand, and the toy responded with a soft blue glow that illuminated the car's interior.
The comfort of having it again made my shoulders drop, tension draining from my body.
"Not just an art student." Ezra started the engine, his eyes softening at the sight of me clutching my comfort object. "His fingers were stained with oil paint, but not commercial brands. His own mixes, judging by the undertones. He's dedicated to his craft."
My pulse quickened at the implication. "For a private collection, perhaps?"
"Perhaps." Ezra's smile promised something as he pulled away from the curb. "We could send him an invitation to view your more experimental works in our private gallery."
The drive home passed with us discussing our favorite moments from the exhibition, the reactions to specific pieces, and the collectors who'd purchased works without having any idea what they were really buying.
Ezra's hand rested on my thigh, occasionally squeezing just hard enough to remind me of his presence.
Our home welcomed us with familiar shadows as Ezra disabled the security system.
Above our bed hung the framed section of drywall we'd carefully cut from Julian's house six months ago.
The abstract pattern of our mingled fluids had darkened with time, transforming from crimson and white to deep burgundy and amber.
The trophy served as a constant reminder of our triumph over Julian's presumption.
Only we understood its true significance, this physical embodiment of claiming what was ours.
"I have something for you," Ezra said. He took my hand and led me toward his study. "A celebration of your success tonight."
The study had evolved from Ezra's solitary domain into our shared sanctuary. My books now filled the once-empty shelves beside his. Two laptops sat side by side on the antique desk. Ezra's expensive stationery had migrated to the left to make room for my preferred journals.
Ezra opened a drawer in his desk and removed a small black box.
"This was meant for later," he explained while turning to face me. "But tonight seems appropriate."
He opened the box, revealing two identical rings of brushed platinum. The simple, elegant bands had no adornment except a small inscription on the inner surface.
My breath caught as I lifted one from the velvet interior and turned it to catch the light. The inscription read, "Bound by darkness, united by choice."
What made my heart race wasn't just the inscription but the faint dark line running through the platinum, almost invisible unless you knew to look for it.
"Is that...?" I couldn't finish the question.
"Bone ash," Ezra confirmed without breaking eye contact. "From a specially prepared mix we created together. The one from Julian's bones, mixed with the first joint of your little finger. Our first trophy and your willing sacrifice combined."
My hands trembled as I held the ring. Not just jewelry but a talisman containing physical elements from our most sacred moments together. Bones made holy through our shared vision. A covenant written in calcium and blood.
"There's more," Ezra said. He reached into his pocket and withdrew a small blade, the kind he used for detailed work in the studio. "These rings contain a part of our prey. Now they need to contain part of us."
He took my left hand. The blade poised above my ring finger. "May I?"
For one suspended moment, I stared at the metal gleaming against my skin.
This could never be undone. The blood we were about to shed would transform us both forever, binding us together more permanently than any legal contract.
My breath caught as the full weight of this covenant settled into my bones.
Not doubt, but awe at what we were creating together.
The magnitude of this choice, of all our choices, crystallized in that single breath between question and answer.
I nodded, unable to speak past the emotion tightening my throat.
His hand moved precisely, the blade slicing the base of my ring finger.
The pain hit like sacred fire, radiating up my arm and spreading outward through my chest. My nerve endings sang with a chorus of sensations: sharp heat, metallic coldness, electric currents racing beneath my skin.
The contrast between the ritual solemnity of the moment and the vivid, exquisite pain made my vision blur momentarily.
Blood welled up, startlingly bright against my pale skin.
He repeated the process on his own finger. "Blood of my blood," he said while pressing our wounded fingers together. "Life bound to life."
Our blood mingled, warm and slick between our hands. Ezra held my gaze as he slipped the ring onto my finger, sliding it through our mingled blood until it settled at the base.
"Mine," he said simply.
I repeated the process with his ring, pressing it through our blood before sliding it onto his finger. The metal warmed instantly against his skin, as if recognizing its home. The sight of our matching wounds, our matching rings, made something twist painfully in my chest.
"And you're mine." My voice broke on the last word, the enormity of this covenant threatening to overwhelm me. This was no longer merely predator and prey, teacher and student, but something new neither of us had names for.
When he kissed me, I tasted blood and metal and forever.
His teeth scraped my lower lip before his tongue pushed into my mouth.
He gripped my hair at the base of my skull, holding me still as he took what belonged to him.
No gentle exploration, just ownership, marking territory no one else would ever claim.
"Daddy," I breathed against his lips. The title became a choice now rather than a reflex.
His teeth caught my lower lip and bit hard enough to draw blood. "Say it again."
"Daddy," I repeated while pressing closer. "I need..." The words caught in my throat, vulnerability still difficult despite everything we'd shared.
"I know what you need, sweet boy." Ezra sat on the leather couch and unbuttoned his shirt, exposing his chest. "Come here. Let Daddy take care of you."
I moved to him without hesitation and settled into his lap.
The first touch of his skin against my lips made something inside me uncoil.
When I took his nipple into my mouth and began to suckle, the last of the evening's tension drained away.
His heartbeat echoed against my ear, steady and strong.
His hand stroked my hair as I nursed, drawing comfort from the intimate connection only we shared.
"That's it," he murmured, his voice vibrating through his chest beneath my ear. "My good boy. Take what you need from Daddy."
The moth rested against my chest, held securely between us, its soft glow illuminating our skin in gentle blue light.
Everything I had ever wanted coalesced in this perfect moment: nursing at Ezra's chest, my moth held close, his fingers stroking through my hair with tender possession.
The fantasy I'd harbored for months, the one that had sustained me through Julian's captivity, made real at last.
"I love you, sweet boy," Ezra whispered against my hair, the words falling like a benediction. "My beautiful monster. Mine alone."
I lost myself in the rhythm, in the security of his arms around me, in the knowledge that only he understood this need. After several minutes, I reluctantly released his nipple and rested my head against his shoulder.
"Better?" he asked, his fingers tracing the curve of my spine.
"Perfect," I replied. "Thank you, Daddy."
He smiled and squeezed the moth. "Hold on to this. I'm not done with you yet."
His hands moved down my body and stripped away the expensive suit.
He unbuttoned my shirt slowly, pausing to kiss each inch of skin as it appeared.
The jacket slid from my shoulders and dropped to the floor.
My pants followed, his knuckles grazing my thighs as he pushed the fabric down.
Soon I stood naked before him, marked with his teeth and hands, the moth clutched in my maimed hand, glowing softly blue.
"Still so beautiful," he murmured while running his hands down my chest. "Still mine."
"Always yours," I agreed and reached for his tie with my good hand, the moth tucked securely against my side. "Always your boy."
When we were both naked, he guided me toward the leather couch and positioned me on my back.
"Look what I've brought you," he whispered, reaching for the same blade he'd used on our fingers. "A token of tonight's success."
When he dragged the blade along my thigh, I didn't flinch. Instead, I spread my legs wider, offering myself to whatever pain he wanted to inflict. The first drop of blood beaded crimson against my skin, and Ezra's eyes darkened as he bent to taste it.
"The things you let me do to you," he murmured against my skin. "Do you know how beautiful you look when you bleed for me?"