The Lark Taps Twice

Chapter 15: Into the Rabbit Hole

Miriam initially felt a little let down at the simplicity of the bonding ceremony. She'd started sneaking peeks at her mother's stash of werewolf romances before she turned thirteen, and they always included a dramatic and steamy claiming scene, usually complete with a full moon and someone's neck getting bitten. In contrast, the ritual Jonatham led her through oozed "family friendly" and could have been a fancy way of formalizing friendship, without the final step. But oh, that last step.

First he spoke a series of unintelligible words, repeating them three times. He then guided her through one last repetition before gesturing for her to say the words by herself. Satisfied, he crossed his hands at the wrists, and once she did the same, he clasped her forearms. After her hands mimicked his, he spoke another sentence in the unfamiliar tongue, one word at a time so she could easily repeat it exactly. He swung their connected arms side to side five times and shouted, "Carangatha Finisio!" before stepping close and pressing his forehead and nose to hers.

They stood frozen there for several breaths, each inhaling the other's warm exhales. Miriam wondered if her prince had forgotten the ending of the ceremony. Is he waiting for divine inspiration? Maybe he should go out and ask his dad how the last part is supposed to go.

Just under her skin, a voice whispered, Wait for it.

A lightning bolt shot through her heart, tearing it apart and reassembling it in a blink. Her new heart felt light, glowy, and somehow no longer the only throbbing organ in her chest. A rope of hot velvet encircled her bundle of cardiac muscle, carrying the steady lub-dub, lub-dub vibrations of another heart; the rope extended from her sternum to ... Jonatham's. The sensation was so strong, Miriam raised her still-clutching-him hands and swished them in the space between their bodies, expecting to encounter a physical rope, at least as thick as her thumb, dangling between them.

Jonatham rasped, "I feel it, too. I'd read about how the soulmate connection works, even perused a few historical journals about the ceremony and how an individual might experience the aftereffects, but this ... This is far more, far better than I imagined."

Her voice shook, "So this kind of thing is normal among your people?"

"Our people now, Mir. Yes and no. Yes, the people of Dyza have bonded to their soulmates this way for centuries. No, I've never heard anyone talk about a connection as strong as this, one that is so intense, I find it strange I cannot actually see it floating between us. In fact, I would like to try something, a test of sorts. Do you mind?" The rough edges on his voice vanished, replaced with a mischievous tone in his question.

"Sure, Tony. Just nothing danGerOUS!"

Never easing his grip on her arms, Jonatham blew out a breath from pursed lips, and as the air flowed downward, his and Miriam's feet lifted slowly off the floor. Once they hovered a few inches above the rug, he aimed an intense stare over Miriam's shoulder at the door; the latch retracted with a snick, and a second later a thump of metal on wood hinted that the door now stood wide open.

Jonatham's stare did not waver from the room's threshold, and the next thing Miriam knew, she and the prince floated around the couch and through the empty doorframe into the main room. Jim and the king turned from their conversation to watch their progress to the front of the not-mirror, where Jonatham lowered their feet gently to the floor.

The king ran to them grinning. "I see you completed the bond and your magic is strengthened, son. Let the girl go so your old man can give you a hug!"

To Miriam's surprise, Jonatham's grip loosened, but his fingers remained curled around her forearms, retreating no further. Inside her ears, a deep voice whispered, What if the bond unravels the moment we let go? I would gladly hold on forever if necessary.