Page 187 of Wicked Bonds

He didn’t even speak, just went right to work trying to help her via their bond.

Is he trying to break the compulsion?Balthazar wondered.

That, or he’s offering her energy to keep her stable, Leela replied.Her healing gift is new and probably exhausting her.

Which meant she needed help.

Balthazar sought out the mind of the one Hydraian who could assist and found her on the beach. “Lara’s healing London,” he said, the words for Luc. “From what I can hear in her thoughts, there are not many permanent deaths, just severe wounds or Hydraians that may take a few days to come back.”

Hydraians could only die upon beheading, or complete exsanguination—which happened when an incendiary bullet entered the bloodstream.

However, the Seraphim hadn’t used any weapons apart from their ethereal swords. At least, that was all he picked up on from the minds of his Hydraians.

“Aya,” Issac breathed, bursting through the tree line where Eliza had just been standing.

Balthazar frowned, realizing she’d disappeared without a word.

He attempted to find her mind, but Issac’s emotions whipped across his senses, drawing his focus to the embracing couple in the field.

Love, adoration, respect, and concern all poured off of Issac as he held Stas with a fierceness Balthazar felt all the way to his soul.

Seeing the pair of them embrace right by Sethios and Caro created an odd sort of reality in the field. A new way of life. A destiny Balthazar never knew he desired yet found himself craving more than air itself now.

Because he had that, too.

He had Leela.

The other half of his spirit.

The female he’d always been meant to claim yet spent three millennia finding and losing and finding again.

He caught her blue-green irises, the understanding flourishing between them.

This is us, he thought at her.

What our past denied us,she whispered.

What our future promises us, he countered, his palm finding her cheek.

She leaned into his touch, her eyes falling closed.What our present already is,she hummed softly.

He gently pressed his lips to hers.I still owe you pancakes.

You do, she agreed.

I’ll make them fresh for you once we’re done here.It’d probably be morning by the time he fulfilled that promise anyway.

Her long blonde lashes lifted, a hint of wicked intent glittering in her irises.Only after you let me lick syrup off your abs.

Are you saying you prefer me over pancakes?

I’m saying your abs remind me of waffles, and I prefer waffles to pancakes,she murmured.

Liar, he said, narrowing his gaze.I can read your mind, Lee.

Indeed you can,she replied, grinning.So you know I’m telling the truth about preferring you drizzled in syrup for breakfast.

He kissed her again before grazing her cheek and pressing his mouth to her ear. “The feeling is mutual.” Which was pretty much a declaration of love for Balthazar. Because pancakes were his passion in life.