She was talking about the future. About their future, as if it were settled and agreed upon that they would be together. As if she'd accepted the mate bond.
The hard crust of time moved inside him--calcified years shifting, shifting, threatening to break apart under the assault of this new flood of feeling. He didn't move. Didn't breathe. Didn't allow his fingers to tighten on the hand he held. He was too strong. He could crush it, could quite literally crush her bones if he gripped too hard. He could hurt her.
He wouldn't. Easier to stop breathing than to take that chance. But she wanted his promise, didn't she? To give her that, he needed air.
[His] chest heaved. The breath he drew was ragged. He felt it all the way down. "All right. But you have to promise the same..."
Her face was still and solemn, her eyes large. It was too dark to see their beautiful ocean color, yet he could feel the ocean in them washing over him. Her voice was quiet. "I do so vow."
Those were the right words. The perfect words. Were they Wiccan? Part of some sidhe ritual? It didn't matter. He gave them back to her. "And I, too, do so vow."
(Blood Challenge by Eileen Wilks)

Auteur: Eileen Wilks