Eiravyne knew two things with absolute certainty: her touch and commands had an uncanny power over Ilkar, and she needed to be incredibly careful.
She felt a pang of guilt, knowing that Ilkar always asked her not to touch him for this very reason.
Her heart pounded in her chest as she hesitated, her fingers trembling.
"I need to touch you... and then call for you... I guess," she murmured to herself, steeling her nerves.
Taking a deep breath, she cupped his face in her hands, her touch tentative. "Ilkar... move... move now," she commanded, her voice shaky but determined.
For a moment, nothing happened. Then, his fingers twitched, and his facial expressions began to shift.
Relief washed over her, so overwhelming that she felt tears spring to her eyes. It worked. It actually worked.
Without thinking, she threw herself at him, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck and burying her face in the crook of his neck.
