Exton

He moans, a low guttural sound of satisfaction. Cassie raises her head from licking the sweat off his chest. Light reflects off her damp hair like moonlight on water. Keon runs his hands through the shoulder length blue waves. His accent is heavy, his dark eyes intense.

"Cassie... can ye reach me knife?"

She reaches for the blade, pausing as she picks it up. She sits back up, holding it close.

"Why? I mean what do you want it for?"

He fights a smile, forcing a somber expression. "So I can die a happy man, mela..."

Shock and fear cross her face as Keon's hand closes over hers. He tries to take the knife from her, only to find her fingers in a death grip.

"Cassie... I'm joking, mela! I'll not be givin' meself to Death, when I have found so much reason to live. Give me the knife, Cass." He tries to stifle a laugh as she punches him. "I be wantin a lock of your hair to twine in mine, as I want to plait a bit of mine in yers."

She still holds tight to the hilt. A stubborn set to her jaw betrays her disbelief.

"Cassie, I am High Court Sidhe. I canna lie to ye."

Anger flashes in her eyes. "You did! You said you wanted to die happy!"

His laughter bubble up from deep in his chest. "I would die happy. A lock of yer hair in mine is a link between us, no matter where I be, you are with me. We call them Memory Locks. They become a part of ye. If ye miss the other, ye need only touch the lock and the person is in yer thoughts, knows yer thinking of them. If there is trouble, the other would know. I would wear a bit of ye with me always. One bit of the magick is that the lock matches yer own in all but color. Yer lock would become shorter and wavy, mine would lengthen and go straight, but the color would be of the original..."

He watches her face, waiting. His hand relaxes, letting her decide. She presses the hilt into his hand.

"Will it hurt?"

"Nae lass. not any more than a haircut. I will cut about five inches down from the root. Then plait me own hair to that. By morning it will be a part of ye, becoming yer own to the root, a black streak in all yer lovely blue. One more thing to know... ye can use it to call me, to reach out and touch me spirit with yers, an I will be able to do the same."

Cassie sits back on his thighs, fingers tracing his tattoo. Her thoughts go to the pain he endured to be safe with her. She slowly nods. Keon smiles, setting the knife aside to cup her face in his hands and draw her down for a kiss.

"Pick your spot, mela. Where do you want me hair to blend with yers?"