Wind thumped against the canvas of the tent as rain poured over it. The noise was so thunderous that Carissa could scarcely hear herself think. At least an hour had passed, night had swept over the land, Yare wolves howled in the distance, and Elon had yet to return.

Carissa wrapped the blanket more tightly around herself, shivering in her wet undergarments. She'd shed Elon's borrowed clothes, but given that she didn't have another change of undergarments, she decided it was best to keep hers on.

Beneath the roar of wind, rain, and Yare wolves, she heard a faint splattering—the rhythmic sound of footsteps on wet soil.

The tent flap rustled, and Carissa sensed another presence within. "Elon?"

"I'm here." There was a scraping noise, then a flare of light as he lit a candle with firesteel. He stood by the entrance of the tent, his sword gleaming with rainwater. His chest was bare, and his shirt was crumpled in his free hand.

Carissa's gaze snared on a bloodstain—likely the reason he'd removed his shirt. "Akar?"

"He's been dealt with." Elon set his shirt on a rickety wooden table—the only piece of furniture aside from the cot. He picked up a clean shirt from the wooden table and used it to dry the blade of his sword.

"What does that mean?"

Elon stopped wiping his sword. "I had to drag him far enough away from camp that his blood would draw the Yare wolves away from here. Does that answer your question?"

So the Yare wolves had finished him, which meant he was dead. There wasn't going to be any resurrecting him now. "Yes, it does."

Elon nodded and returned his attention to the sword. "So how do you... feel?"

A small smile curved her lips. Though the question was awkwardly presented, she was glad Elon thought to ask about her emotions—unlike most men she knew. "I think happiness is too strong of a word. It's almost hard to believe that I'll never see him again, that he's truly gone. But at the same time, it's a relief. He won't be able to touch me again."

"No. He won't." Elon muttered so lowly it sounded more like a growl.

"And thank you for keeping your promise, that he wouldn't ever touch me again."

Elon nodded. "Anything for you, Carissa." He set his dried sword on the table and began to pull off his trousers. As wet as they were, they clung to him.

"Here, let me help." Carissa rose to assist him, only for her ankle to collapse. She fell forward, the blanket falling from her shoulders.

Elon stepped closer and caught her, his strong arms clasping her firmly against him. "It seems you've forgotten to put on clothes, love."

Carissa's cheeks burned as she pushed against his chest—though only half-heartedly. "I'm wearing my undergarments. Surely that counts for something."

Elon ran a hand along her side, briefly touching the fabric. "They're wet. Aren't you cold?"

"Yes, but they're my only undergarments; I didn't have a dry pair."

"Hmmm. Do you really need them?" He pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder, and heat fluttered through her.

It took a moment for the warmth from his kiss to fade—and to recall what Elon has asked. "Yes. If not for them, I'd be wearing nothing."

"I still fail to see the problem here."

"Elon." She slapped his chest, and he caught her hand. He brought it to his lips and kissed her fingertips before sweeping her into his arms.

As he approached their cot, her heart thumped fiercely against her chest. Was he going to bond with her? As he lowered her, she instinctively tightened her grip on him.

After setting her down, he gently unwound her arms from around his neck. "It's alright, Carissa."

Once he'd released her, he finished shedding his trousers before striding to the tent entrance—to her surprise. After a few seconds, he returned, his cupped hands filled with water. He knelt in front of her before pouring the water over her twisted ankle.

As he ran his hands over her ankle and up the length of her calf, she noticed how starkly the dark hairs of her legs contrasted against her pale skin. In Iver, she'd first been introduced to the practice of shaving when some of the nightwomen had bathed. The servants had shaved her legs in the palace, but she hadn't thought to shave since.

The warmth from Elon's healing had long since faded, yet he continued to smooth his hands along her calf. She began to pull her leg away, but before she could, Elon settled a hand on her knee.

"Don't, Carissa."

She arched her eyebrows. "Is that a command?"

He shook his head. "Consider it a plea. And I'd allow it if I knew it was because you didn't welcome my touch. But it's not, is it?"

"Well..." She clasped her hands, gripping tightly. "I just haven't shaved since the palace."

Elon grinned in a way that made her breath catch. "And what does it matter? Do you truly think something so superficial would change my affection for you? Or my attraction to you?" He trailed his fingers slowly along her shin, brushing the fine hair on her legs and making her skin prickle with awareness.

Heat surged through her middle, the sensation so intense she was capable of doing little aside from staring at him. How did he evoke such feelings in her? "Could you do that again?"

Though Elon's eyes twinkled in amusement, he didn't tease her. Instead, he caressed her leg much as he'd done before, his hand wandering a bit higher.

As wondrous sensations stirred in her once more, she wondered if this was similar to what normal women felt when bonding. "Elon, would you show me how bonding is supposed to be between a man and a woman—again?"

She thought he'd protest, but instead he rose and cupped her cheek with his calloused hand. "It would be my pleasure. And I will do my best to ensure it's yours as well." He winked.

Her gaze darted to the blanket that had fallen from her shoulders. It was on the ground, the fabric wet from the moist soil. "We don't have a blanket."

"Just as you won't need your undergarments to cover you, I doubt we'll need a blanket to keep us warm."

Heat flooded her face. She longed to bond with him again and see if the experience this time would differ from the last, but a part of her felt hesitant. What if she ruined their bonding again? "Will we need... anything?"

"Just each other." He placed his hands on her shoulders and gently urged her to lie back against the cot.

As soon as her back met the taut fabric, the trembles began, running up and down her frame until her teeth chattered. Lands, she was scared. Perhaps she'd made a mistake in asking for this.

Elon sat beside her, the cot's wooden frame squeaking with the added weight. His eyes roamed her, and a smile flickered across his lips. "You're so beautiful." And then he leaned over her and kissed her.

His lips moved over her slowly, rhythmically, and her mouth parted beneath his. He deepened the kiss briefly before drawing away to nuzzle her neck, his stubble scratching against her skin.

Her fear slowly melted beneath his caresses, and she began to let her hands wander him as his lips wandered her. Bursts of pleasure stole her breath until she felt light-headed. By the time he settled next to her, her entire body felt loose and warm, like softened dough in his hands. 

Elon placed his hand at her waist, fingering the hem of her undergarment. "Still think you need these?"

She adamantly shook her head.

He laughed. "I thought not."

After he'd removed the last of her undergarments—and his own—she felt a brief moment of fear and embarrassment. She clenched her hands lest she be tempted to snatch up the undergarments Elon had cast aside.

Elon gentled his kisses until he'd coaxed the tenseness from her body. Then he bonded with her.

Though she'd experienced it before, in many ways, bonding still felt so foreign. The motions felt awkward, but this time there wasn't an underlying sense of panic or fear. In fact, occasionally she felt a sensual heat burning low and hot in her abdomen. He drew away, and she thought they'd finished, but he closed the space between them and bonded with her again.

Each time made her feel slightly more than the last, until she was bonding with him as much as he was with her. Her heart clenched with delight and longing, and just when she thought she might burst with pleasure, Elon fell back against the cot, pressing his side against hers.

Carissa blinked against the darkness. When had the candle gone out? Had they really been bonding for so long?

"I think it's best we rest now, Carissa."

Carissa turned into him. "But why?"

"You were yawning." His laughed warmed her like a cup of cider. "Am I really that boring?"

"I didn't—No. It wasn't. You weren't. I mean—" Before the blush on her cheeks could grow hotter, Elon laughed again.

"I know. But it's been a long day, and you're tired. I'd best let you rest for what remains of tonight." He pulled her to him, draping an arm over her waist.

A yawn escaped her as she cuddled against him. "Thank you, Elon."

"For?"

"For loving me."

He kissed her temple and rested his cheek against the top of her head. "Always, Carissa. Don't forget that."

A smile drifted across Carissa's lips. With Elon constantly reminding her how much he loved her, she could never forget that.

Not ever.

***

Author's Note: Well, it's spring break, and I'm headed to South Padre--for a mission trip. ;) For those of you who have the week off, I hope you enjoy it! And yes, the sneak peek is in my bio.