She doesn’t respond, just shakes against me. I realize with horror that her hands are ice-cold, her breathing shallow. She gave too much—pulled too deep from her reserves to save me.
One of the Broken—the lynx-hybrid—takes a stumbling step forward.
I gather Lyra against my chest and shift partially, letting leopard strength flood human limbs. It’s unstable, dangerous to hold half-form like this, but I need human hands to carry her and leopard power to run.
The bear-wolf dies as I pass it—its breath finally stopping, released from torment. The other two are recovering their mobility, turning to pursue. But I’m already moving, taking the stairs three at a time with Lyra cradled in my arms.
Behind us, that terrible triple scream echoes up the stairwell—rage and hunger and mad pain combined. But it grows fainter as I run, putting distance between the horror and the woman in my arms.
I burst through a service door, slam it behind us, and collapse in what appears to be a storage room. My partial shift drops, leaving me human and shaking but alive. Lyra is still barely conscious, her weight slight but her presence enormous in my arms.
“What did you do?” I whisper into her hair. “What did you do to save me?”
Her voice is thread-thin when she finally responds: “Bond-bridge. When mated pairs heal each other... magic combines. Creates something stronger. But we’re not mated. Shouldn’t have worked. Shouldn’t?—”
“It worked because we are,” I interrupt, pulling back enough to see her face. Her eyes are barely focused, exhausted beyond measure. “Lyra, listen to me. It worked because my leopard knows you. Because my magic recognizes yours. Because you’re mine and I’m yours, and that kind of connection doesn’t lie.”
“Can’t be,” she murmurs, but there’s no conviction in it. “Too fast. Too?—”
“Mountain Cats know when we’ve found our mate.” I cup her face in both hands, making her meet my eyes. “We don’t doubt. We don’t question. We know. And I know you, Lyra Starling. I’ve known since the moment your magic sang with mine.”
A tear escapes, tracking down her temple. “I can’t lose you.”
“Then stop trying to push me away.” I lean forward, resting my forehead against hers. “Stop trying to save me from my own choices. Stop fighting what we both feel.”
“The vision?—”
“Showed you one possible future. But we just changed it, didn’t we? You said I’d die from those wounds, and I’m here. Breathing. Alive. Because you’re extraordinary, and we’re stronger together.”
I feel the moment she stops resisting, stops fighting the truth between us. Her hands come up to grip my wrists, holding my hands against her face like she’s afraid I’ll pull away.
“Magnus,” she whispers, and it sounds like surrender and victory and hope all at once.
“I’m here,” I promise. “I’m not going anywhere. And when this is over, when Crane is stopped and those prisoners are freed, you and I are going to have a very long conversation about mate bonds and forever and why you’re the only woman I’ll ever want.”
She laughs—small and shaky but real. “Presumptuous.”
“Certain.” I kiss her forehead gently, feeling her shiver at the contact. “Rest now. I’ve got you.”
She doesn’t argue, just lets herself sink into my embrace, trusting me to keep watch while she recovers. The storage room is defensible, with only one entrance and good sight lines. I settle against the wall with her curled in my lap, and let my ice magic spread out in thin tendrils, creating an early warning system.
My shoulder and ribs ache from the partially healed wounds. They’ll need proper attention later. But the toxin is gone, burned away by merged magic that should have been impossible. By the bond-bridge that requires mate-level compatibility to function.
She saved my life.
She saw my death in her visions and refused to accept it.
She’s everything I didn’t know I was searching for.
And when I look down at her sleeping form, silver-streaked auburn hair fanned across my chest, face peaceful despite exhaustion, I make a silent vow:
I will keep her safe. I will stand beside her against whatever darkness waits below. And when this is done, I will claim her properly—with the full mate bond, spoken in my clan’s ancient words, witnessed by the moon and stars and ice itself.
Because Lyra Starling is mine.
And I’m never letting her go.
11
