The ceremony concluded when Luken presented a new sword to Samuel, one that he took firmly by the grip. Holding it for a few long seconds, as the audience watched in silence, he forged the deadly identification signature.
Once complete, he held the sword aloft and another cheer resounded through the theater.
Two days after the confirmation, Samuel held Vela’s hand and strolled beside her along a row of Scottsdale Two shops. One of them had caught Vela’s eye and she perused the window display, head bent, eyes wide and seeking.
The door opened, a customer came out, and a familiar scent wafted beneath his nose arousing things that shouldn’t be aroused in a public arena.
What the f**k?
He glanced through the door and saw that the place sold, among other things, scented candles. “I’ll be right back,” he said.
“You’re going inside?” Vela turned to him, blue eyes wide and hopeful.
He smiled. “Yes, but let me do this alone. There’s something I want to see about.” He knew she would want to come with him; her eyes had that let’s-spend- some-money glint.
But she nodded and he went straight to the candles. It took him a bare split- second to locate the one that came damn close to Vela’s scent. He lifted the lid of a candle in a jar and sniffed.
He barely repressed a groan.
He glanced at the label and smiled.
He even chuckled. But sniffing again, his pants shrunk. He liked this scent too damn much.
Putting the round glass lid back on the jar, he tucked it beneath one arm, them gathered up a bunch of small candles, called tea-lights or something. The latter appeared to require individual glass holders so he grabbed a bunch of those, too. He took deep breaths and named the planets starting nearest the sun to try to calm down.
By the time he’d paid for his purchases and made it outside, he held the bag up to Vela and said, “We have to go home. Now. Sorry.” She smiled, then sent, I guess we do because I can feel how your zipper is pressing into something that shouldn’t be that big at least not out here in front of God and everybody. That, and you smell like a chocolate bar, which I’m dying to take a bite out of.
He growled softly, took hold of her arm, and folded her straight to his bedroom.
She laughed as she sat down on the side of the bed. “Okay, warrior, what’s going on? And what on earth did you buy that got you so worked up?” Damnit, he was a Warrior of the Blood, and buying candles in a woman’s shop, just felt wrong. He handed her the bag and said, “Here. This is for you, or maybe for me. Maybe for both of us. Hell, I don’t know. Just take a look.”
“Uh, thank you? And…why do you look so mad?” He rolled his eyes and waved his hand at the bag several times. “It’s just so damn girlie.” She opened it and pulled out the box of tea-lights. She sniffed, showed mild pleasure with a lift of her brows, then read the label. “Oh, sweet-peas. I know this flower. Everyone grew them on trellises when I was a kid.” She then lifted her gaze to him.
He let her work it out, which made her laugh. “This is my scent. I smell like sweet-peas?”
“Yes. You do.” But he wouldn’t say anything more. He wouldn’t say, You smell like sweet-peas, sweetheart. It was too f**king much.
“Well, then,” she said, her scent rising to compete with his purchases.
“We’ll have to do something about these candles.” He watched as she drew everything out of the bag. She opened the glass jar and set it on the night stand. She did the same for the tea-lights and the glass holders, placing them around the room.
Folding a lighter into her hand from the kitchen, she lit every single candle, then turned to him and started unbuttoning her blouse. Standing across the room, by the window, and in full daylight, she started stripping for him, slowly as the candles combined with her scent and flooded the room.
But by the time she’d reached the last button, he’d grown into a desperate state.
He panted and his shoulders hunched. He felt his grayle power itching to release.
He folded his shirt off and let the smoky mist rise around him.
Her lips parted and she gasped. “I think this is taking too long.” She waved her hand and poof, clothes gone. He growled and came at her fast, turning her toward the bed, plowing her backwards, and as he got her flat, he made his way inside her beautiful wetness.
That she laughed, cooed, and whimpered told him she didn’t mind, not even a little. He made love to her briskly, barely two minutes of wild touching and pushing, before she arched beneath him, crying out, his body releasing into her in electric pulses of ecstasy.
They were definitely on their breh- moon.
She held him fast, her arms encircling his neck as she kissed him on his cheek, his forehead, his lips.
He spoke words of love and lust and heat and all that they were together.
He took her again, slower this time, bringing her to climax repeatedly until at last he spooned her and slept away the last of the afternoon.
He woke up as the sun sank low on the horizon, Vela and the beautiful mass of her hair, cradled against his chest. The peace he knew astounded him, the completeness, a sense of destiny fulfilled.
When she moved and looked up at him, he smiled and kissed her. “Looks like a beautiful sunset.”
“Show me.” He rose up from the bed and wrapped her in one of the sheets, laughing the whole time. He took her onto the balcony, and she leaned against his chest sighing contentedly.
Holding his woman in his arms was probably the best sensation he’d ever known. “I love you,” he whispered.
She sighed again. “I love you, too.
Now and forever.” Now and forever.
The desert, with all that dry earth, wind, and dust, made beautiful sunsets full of rich yellow, orange, and lavender hues, one of the beauties of the expansive Sonoran desert.
And he shared it now with Vela, his woman, his breh.
He marveled at life, at all the wealth that had come to him in just a few short weeks, of loving Vela, of knowing her deeply and intimately, of having her love him in return, and of starting this new life with her as a goddamn righteous Warrior of the Blood.