Born with a damaged heart, Leanna Weston has lived a sheltered life with little chance at adventure. When she hears that Finvarra's Circus is coming to her small town, she sneaks off to witness the magic first hand, sure that this is her only chan...
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Death.
His lips met hers, and she thought of Death. It had come for her before, only to leave her weary and hopeless, though never lifeless. But at Finvarra's mouth, Leanna was certain—she would die. Either her heart would fail because of Finvarra's kiss or Machina would tear it from her chest for the same reason. But forsaking consequence and guided by her soul, Leanna parted her lips and accepted his kiss, welcoming sweet death, whatever its form.
His lips molded to hers, gently easing her from inexperience. Slowly, patiently, he showed her how to receive his affection and give it in return. Their rhythm a pulse, he pulled her closer as if wanting to absorb her into his being.
Releasing the blanket to the floor, Leanna slid her arms around his neck shyly, wanting the same... more.
They tumbled back blindly, hands exploring, lips tasting until a bookcase supported the labors of their love. Their bodies shifted and aligned, twined, until no space remained between them, his crystal pressed against her skin and hers against his.
At once, the stones grew blindingly cold, and Leanna felt Finvarra so present, she was certain she once again invaded his soul.
Falling.
Being within him felt like falling. Like a million rising suns and setting moons, Leanna felt herself fall through darkness and light, through what she knew was Finvarra's soul. In this never-ending universe of his spirit, each star was a memory of his life, free for her to explore. There were so many....
She should have focused on these things and learned the truths of his life. Yet, being within him, tasting him, running her hands along him, Leanna saw but one truth. Finvarra opened up to her completely and trusted her wholly with all the secrets of his soul—the ultimate vulnerability. The ultimate trust. Tears spilled from her eyes.
Heart to heart, Leanna surrendered wholly to their kiss. She shed all fear and doubt, and opened her soul to him as well. The crystal's burn intensified, but weaving her hands in his silken hair, she kissed him with every truth she had. That she'd been dying before the circus. But here, beside his troupe—beside him, she lived. That she would take his heart, but never his life.
I love you, she confessed into their bound souls. Surely this was love. It was heaven. It was hell. It was everything she never dreamed of, and could not fathom how she lived without. If she never felt this again, she would die. Yes, she loved him. A part of her always had. And heaven help her, in knowing every fault and transgression, she always would.
Sharp, concentrated pain twisted at Leanna's chest. Clutching tightly to Finvarra's shoulders, she stiffened, eyes shut tight against the stabbing pain. The crystals burned as if wishing to tear her open and burn away her heart.
Finvarra's fingers dug into her back just as violently. He moaned painfully into their kiss that instantly broke. His arms around her loosened and he surfaced with a gasp.
