Bride of the Sea (The Prophecy of Sisters #2) - Hayley Faiman Page 0,89

silence as I continue to braid his hair. I clear my throat when I’m finished, but don’t make a move to get up. I want to stay right here forever with him. He turns to look at me from over his shoulder, his eyes roaming over mine, searching mine and seeing too much of what’s inside of me.

“I will return to you, Liv,” he growls.

“I know you will,” I lie.

He shakes his head once, his lips curving up into a grin. “You do not and that is okay. You will see me again, have faith in the gods, in the fate that they have planned for us.”

Licking my lips, I look down at my twisting fingers in my lap, then lift my gaze back up to meet his. “You have a lot of trust in your gods, Aaric. I wish that I had that with my own,” I admit, my voice barely above a whisper.

There is a moment of silence, then Aaric stands to his feet and turns around to face me. Lifting my head, I gaze up at him as he crosses his arms and watches me, looking down his nose at me.

“You are of my people, Liv. You are my víf, you are minn. Your gods are my gods. Know that they aligned your fate to this point and they will not abandon you.”

His tone is fierce, his voice rough and husky, his eyes piercing and his tattoos glowing with his passion. Licking my lips, they part in awe at just how intense he is in this moment. He truly believes in his gods, in the fates, in all of it and I find that it’s beautiful.

“Okay, Aaric,” I exhale.

He grunts, taking a step toward me. His arm extends and he wraps his fingers around my waist, tugging me forward until I fall against his chest. Tilting my head back, I look up into his gorgeous blue gaze.

“Believe it, Liv. You must believe in the fates that the gods have set forth. They will guide you to wherever you’re meant to be, your path is cleared for you by them.”

“Even if that doesn’t include you?” I ask.

He snorts. “It will always include me, sváss.”

Without allowing me to say another word, to ask another question, he dips his chin and touches his mouth to mine. My lips part as he slips his tongue inside of me, tangling with mine as he tastes me.

Moaning, I press my chest against his, that familiar fire beginning to ignite inside of me. No longer does it feel like a million hot pokers beneath my skin, now it’s a welcomed and comforting warm sensation.

Aaric breaks the kiss, nibbling on my bottom lip as he catches his breath. “The ceremony will begin soon,” he explains.

“The ceremony?” I ask dazed.

He grunts. “You must paint me, then we will sacrifice to the gods so that we have a safe return either here or to Valhalla.”

“Here,” I rasp. “You will return here.”

His lips curve up into a small smile and he nods his head once. “Já, víf, I will return here.”

Aaric releases me as he clears his throat, I watch him turn away from me and head toward the door flaps of the tent. I expect him to leave, but he doesn’t. Instead, he bends slightly and brings over a wooden bowl.

Glancing down, I smile at the sight of the blue paint in the bowl. It matches his tattoos when they glow. I still don’t know how or why they do that, but he’s satisfied to believe it’s because he is linked to the gods, chosen by them to fulfill this prophecy as one of the most fearless warriors.

“Paint me, Liv,” he rasps, his voice thick and husky.

“Okay,” I breathe. “Okay.”

Our conversation from earlier is gone and instead the only words spoken are from him. Just directions on how and where to apply the bright blue war paint.

I never much thought about the expression war paint before. It was something my grandfather always said when me and my sisters would put on too much makeup. It means something completely different to me right now.

It’s terrifying.

Aaric wraps his hand around my wrist and squeezes me firmly. Lifting my eyes to his, I lick my lips as I look up at him, waiting to see what he’s going to say. “You will see me again, Liv. I will return.”

Nodding, I try to swallow the lump in my throat, but I can’t. It’s lodged in there, so instead I continue to