~ HARTH ~
Tarkyn gave a grunt, holding her face in his hands and kissing her slowly, deeply. "Perfect," he murmured against her lips. "You are perfect."
Harth snorted. "If you believe that, either the dehydration has stolen your mind, or the bond has blinded you," she said dryly.
He pushed himself a little higher, staring at her with a mock-stern expression as he took one of her hands and kissed her knuckles. "You are perfect—for me. The Creator's chosen One."
Harth nodded. "Isn't it incredible?" she breathed. She put one hand to his chest to feel his great heart beating under his skin, her own prickling with disbelief because their hearts beat in time and it seemed impossible.
Tarkyn blinked, then shook his head too. "I never understood," he murmured. "I couldn't even conceive it."
"Me either. I thought I knew—"
"So did I."
