Again, pleasure quickly replaced the sting of pain. I closed my eyes and concentrated on the exquisite heat that was rushing through my body. I couldn’t stop myself from touching him, and slid one hand around his waist so that I could feel the tight muscles just underneath the skin of his back. I wanted more of him. I wanted him closer to me.

He took his lips from my neck, and he actually held himself up. His eyes were dark with passion, and he was breathing hard. “Now, Zoey, will you give me more than just your blood? Will you accept me as your Guardian?”

I stared at him. In his eyes there was something that I’d never seen within him before. The boy who had walked away from me in Venice, jealous and pissed, was gone. The man who had grown in his place was more than a vampyre, more than a Warrior. Even as he lay there broken in my arms, I could feel the strength in him: solid, dependable, honorable.

“Guardian?” I said wonderingly, touching his face. “So that’s what you’ve Changed into?”

His gaze never left mine. “Yes, if you accept me. Without his queen’s acceptance a Guardian isn’t anything.”

“But I’m not really a queen.”

His torn lips didn’t stop Stark’s cocky smile. “You’re my queen, and anyone who says different can fuck off.”

I smiled at him. “I already accepted your Oath as my Warrior.”

Stark’s cockiness was instantly gone. “This is different, Zoey. It’s more. It might change things between us.”

I touched his face again. I didn’t really understand what he was asking, but I knew that he needed something more from me, and I knew that whatever I said and did now would affect us for the rest of our lives. Goddess, give me the right words, I prayed silently.

“James Stark, from here on out I accept you as my Guardian, and I also accept all that goes with it.”

He turned his head and kissed my palm. “Then I will serve you with my honor and my life, forever Zoey. My Ace, mo bann ri, my queen.”

His oath rippled through me like a physical thing. Stark was right. It was different than what had happened between us when he’d sworn his Oath to me as a Warrior. This time it was as if he’d given me a piece of himself, and I knew that without me, he could never truly be whole again. The responsibility of it scared me almost as much as it strengthened me, and I pulled his mouth down to my neck again.

“Take more from me, Stark. Let me heal you.”

With a moan, his mouth met my neck. His bite deepened, and something completely amazing happened. First, the unique power that accompanied the element air surged into me and flowed from me to Stark. He shivered and I knew it was from the intense pleasure that was filling him as the element gifted him with a swirling rush of energy. At the same instant a sweet, familiar pain swept over my forehead and cheekbones, and against my closed eyelids I got the flash of an image of Damien, shouting with joy. I gasped in amazement. I didn’t have to ask. I didn’t need a mirror to see. I knew the first of my tattoos had returned.

Following closely behind air came fire. It heated me and then spread throughout Stark, filling him, strengthening him, so that he was able to lift his arm and pull me closer, drinking even more deeply. Sensation burned down my back as my second tattoo returned, and I saw Shaunee laughing and doing her victory bump and grind.

Water washed through us then, bathing us, filling us, continuing to carry us around the circle we’d begun. I kept my eyes tightly closed, taking in every moment of the miracle Stark and I were experiencing together, and trembled with pleasure as my third tattoo, the one that wrapped around my waist, returned, while Erin laughed and yelled, “Hell, yes! Z’s coming back!”

Earth came next, and it was like Stark and I became a part of the grove. We knew the rich pleasure of it and the power that rested there in the roots and ground and moss. Stark’s hold on me got stronger. He shifted me in his arms so that he was over me. His arms cradled me to him, and I knew his wounds no longer pained him because I could feel what he felt. I shared his joy and pleasure and wonder. My palms were seared by the Goddess’s touch again, as my fourth tattoo returned. Strangely, I didn’t get a visual image of Stevie Rae as her element filled me, only a sense of her and a distant joy, as if she had somehow moved beyond my reach.

Spirit sizzled through us last, and suddenly I didn’t simply feel what Stark felt—it was like we were joined. Not in body, but in soul. And our souls blazed together with a brilliance that was brighter than any physical passion could ever be as my final tattoo returned.

With a gasp, Stark pulled his lips from my skin and buried his face in my neck. His body was trembling, and his breath was coming fast, like he’d just sprinted a marathon. His tongue touched the wound he’d made on my neck, and I knew he was closing and healing it. I raised my hand to caress his hair, and was shocked to feel that the sweat and blood was gone from him.

He lifted himself up then and, struggling to get his breathing under control, stared down at me.

Goddess, he was gorgeous! Just moments before he’d been mortally wounded, beaten, bloody, and so broken he could hardly move. Now he radiated energy and health and strength.

“That was the most amazing thing that’s ever happened to me,” he said. Then his eyes widened. “Your tattoos!” He touched my face reverently. I turned my head so that his fingers could trace the filigree markings that, once again, covered my back and shoulders. Then I lifted my hand so he could press his palm against mine and the sapphire symbols there.

“They’re all back,” I said. “The elements brought them.”

Stark shook his head in wonder. “I felt it. I didn’t know what was happening, but I felt it with you.” He pulled me into his arms again. “I felt everything with you, my queen.”

Before I kissed him, I said, “And I’m a part of you now, my Guardian.”

Stark kissed me for a long time, and then he just held me close to him, touching me gently as if he was trying to convince himself I wasn’t going to evaporate from his arms.

He kept holding me when I cried for Heath, and he told me about how Heath had made the choice to move on, and how brave he’d been.

Stark hadn’t really had to tell me that part, though. I knew how brave Heath really was, just like I knew his bravery was part of how I’d recognize him again. That, and his love. Always his love for me.

After I was done crying and mourning and remembering, I wiped my eyes and let Stark help me to my feet.

“Are you ready to go home now?” I asked him.

“Oh, yeah. Home sounds good. But, uh, Z, how am I getting there?”

I grinned at him. “By trusting me.”

“Ach, well, it’ll be a wee easy trip then, won’t it?”

“Where the heck did you get that Irish accent?”

“Irish! Are yie deaf, wumman?” he growled the words at me while I frowned at him. Then Stark’s laughter filled the grove. He hugged me, and said, “Scottish, Z, not Irish. And you’ll see where I got it real soon.”

Chapter 31

As the sun set, Stevie Rae’s eyes opened. For a second she was super confused. It was dark, but that didn’t disorient her—that was cool. She could feel the earth around her, cradling and shielding her—that was cool, too. There was a slight movement off to her side, and she turned her head. Her keen night vision was able to differentiate one depth of blackness from another, and the huge wing took form, followed by a body.

Rephaim.

Everything came back to her then: the red fledglings, Dallas, and Rephaim. Always Rephaim.

“You stayed down here with me?”

His eyes opened, and she felt her own widen in surprise. The blazing scarlet within them had calmed to a rusty color that was more amber than red.