“Pain can be erotic, too,” she soothed him.
Depthless black eyes on hers, he shook his head slowly. “Causing you enough pain that you want to leave your body isn’t erotic. I won’t do it.”
“What if it’s the only way?” she demanded. “I’m willing to do this, so you should be, too.”
“Not necessarily,” he shot back. “This would be far from the first time that I’ve cared more about your well-being and happiness than you do.”
Well, that struck her mute for a moment. She had no argument against that. From the moment she met him, she’d known she’d do anything for this wizard. Any amount of suffering, and she’d be happy to offer it to him. And he knew that all too well.
“Care and Feeding of Familiars 101,” he said with a grim smile. “I’m going to protect you, even from yourself.”
“Fine,” she bit out. “Then I’m out of ideas. What are yours?”
“I think that if a familiar can take alternate form without pain, forcing them into it on other occasions—as we’ve both witnessed is true—then it should be possible the first time. Maybe you wanting it is enough.”
“Maybe,” she replied, doubt heavy in her tone and heart.
“Let me ask you this: Why don’t wizards take alternate forms? If our magic is fundamentally the same, except for that singular ability to activate it, why isn’t that in the wizard repertoire?”
“Probably they’d need another wizard to do it to them. That occurred to me also,” she admitted. “It would make sense that our connections to our own bodies is too strong to override through our own will. We need someone else to push us there, otherwise maybe some animal instinct kicks in to keep us human. A kind of self-protection.”
He nodded slowly. “That makes sense.” Then, abruptly, he grinned. “Maybe someday you’ll be able to override my animal instincts and push me into my alternate form.”
“I’m not a wizard.”
“No, but you have a stronger will than anyone else I’ve known. You make me do things I don’t want to all the time.”
“Ha ha. Besides, I thought you found the idea of changing form abhorrent.”
“I did.” He looked thoughtful. “Not anymore. The prospect is interesting.” He gave her a wry look. “Part of my decline into monstrosity, no doubt.”
“No doubt.”
He stood, pulling her to her feet. “I think I know what to do. Give me the coat and kneel.”
With a surge of wicked trepidation, she obeyed, handing over the garment, then kneeling naked before him. He nudged her knees with his boot, making her spread her thighs, instructing her to clasp her hands at the small of her back. Tremulous with rising arousal, curious, nerves on a keen edge, she did as he told her.
When he grasped her chin in his hand and lifted her gaze to meet his, he stared her down with all the silver-sharp command a familiar could wish for. “Do you trust me?” he demanded.
Not exactly what she expected. “Yes, wizard.”
He tightened his grip, eyes obsidian hard. “Don’t lie. I’ll know it. Do you trust me?”
“Yes, wizard.” She shuddered, realizing it was true. This wasn’t compelled, not forced. She was choosing this.
“Do you yield yourself to me?” he asked softly, implacably.
“Yes, wizard.” Her body swayed toward him in its own affirmation, yearning.
“Do you submit your will to mine, utterly, without reservation?”
It shouldn’t feel so chilling, but the question struck hard. Her will was all she’d had when she lost everything else. She searched his eyes, not knowing what she looked for.
“Do you, Nic?” he urged.
“Yes, Gabriel,” she sighed, feeling the deep truth of it. Not always. But here, in the arcanium, with Gabriel, she could submit her will to his and trust him to use it well. Not just any wizard, but Gabriel. Her love.
“Accept my control, then.” His eyes, already blacker than a starless night, darkened. His magic swirled around and through her, then settled over her like a silver net. Captive, she instinctively struggled against it, and Gabriel gave her a warning look. “You promised, familiar,” he crooned. “Submit. Yield.”