Tomorrow evening. Another day of waiting, of wanting, of feeling him through the bond but not being able to have him completely. It felt like torture.
But when I looked at him—really looked, with my new eyes that could see the love radiating from him in visible spectrums—I understood. He'd waited centuries for me. He'd protected me from the mark, guided me through regression, held me through transformation. One more day was nothing compared to that patience.
"Tomorrow then," I said, and through the bond I let him feel my acceptance, my trust, my own desperate anticipation for what would come.
His smile was dark with promise. "Tomorrow evening, when your body has stabilized, I'm going to take you to the place where I was born. Where my power is strongest, where the wind itself will witness our joining."
The words sent heat spiraling through me, making my new body sing with want. Tomorrow. Just one more day.
Then finally, finally, we would be complete.
Chapter 8
Morningarrivedwrappedinthe kind of silence that feels like breath held too long, and I woke knowing immediately that everything had changed. Not just the obvious changes—the way light looked different, fractured into spectrums that didn't have names, or how I could feel the mountain breathing through stone beneath me—but something deeper. My body hummed with potential instead of pain, the transformation's violent unmaking finally settling into strength that felt like coming home to a self I'd never known existed.
I sat up carefully in the Nursery bed, testing. Yesterday every movement had required conscious thought, my new muscles and bones learning their capabilities through trial and error. Today my body just knew—how much force to apply, how to balance, the exact angle to hold my spine. It was like waking up fluent in a language I'd never studied.
The internal heat that had burned through me since the ceremony was cooling degree by degree. I could feel it happen, could track the progress through my transformed senses as my cells stopped their frantic restructuring and settled intopermanence. Magic that had felt like liquid electricity in my veins now flowed smooth and cool, finding its proper channels, becoming part of my baseline instead of an invasion.
Through the windows, morning light painted everything gold and rose. But I could see beyond the visible now—could track the ultraviolet patterns dancing across the glass, could sense the infrared signatures of birds passing overhead, could feel the electromagnetic pulse of the storm system that was building three hundred miles west. The overwhelming sensory input from yesterday had organized itself into something manageable. Still present, still extraordinary, but no longer threatening to drown me.
I spent the day learning my new body through small experiments. Walking the Nursery's perimeter and discovering I could feel air currents with enough precision to navigate blindfolded. Picking up objects and marveling at how strength flowed effortlessly—not the struggling human strength that required leverage and effort, but something that came from deeper, from magic woven into muscle fiber. Testing my voice and hearing harmonics I'd never produced before, overtones that resonated with the room's natural frequencies.
Caelus appeared periodically throughout the day, checking on me without hovering. Each time, his hand would find my pulse point, his eyes would track my breathing, and through the bond I'd feel his assessment—measuring my stability, gauging how much longer before it would be safe.
By afternoon, the bone-deep ache that had settled into my marrow after the transformation began shifting. Not fading exactly, but transforming from discomfort into something else. Power coiled in that space where pain had been, waiting to be claimed, to be used. When I stretched, reaching for the ceiling just to test my range, I felt strong in ways that had nothing to dowith physical prowess. Like I could withstand forces that would have shattered my human form.
Evening arrived painted in shades of amber and violet, and with it came Caelus carrying a purpose that made the bond between us spark with anticipation. He found me in the rocking chair by the window, watching clouds form patterns that my new sight could read like language.
His fingers found my wrist, pressing gently to feel my pulse. Through the bond, I felt his exhale of relief before I heard it.
"You're ready."
The words landed with the weight of inevitability. Everything we'd survived—the mark's corruption, the regression, the ceremony, the transformation—had been building toward this moment. My body had stabilized. The magic had integrated. There were no more barriers between us and completion.
"Now?" My voice came out breathier than intended, nerves and desire tangling together.
"Now." He held out his hand, and when I took it, electricity sparked where our skin met. "I want to take you somewhere first. Somewhere important."
He led me from the Nursery through corridors I'd never seen, each turn taking us deeper into the monastery's bones. We passed through his private chambers—glimpsed briefly, all silver and white and spaces designed for solitude—then beyond them to a section of wall that looked like every other section of wall until Caelus pressed his palm flat against stone that suddenly wasn't there.
A passage opened, narrow and winding, lit by bioluminescent crystals embedded in the rock at intervals. They pulsed with soft blue-green light that responded to our presence, brightening as we passed.
"Where are we going?" I asked, though part of me already knew. Could feel it through the bond—this wasn't just practical, wasn't just about finding privacy. This was significant.
"My birthplace." His voice carried reverence that made my chest tight. "The sacred caldera at the monastery's heart, where I first came into being countless years ago."
The path began climbing, steep enough that I had to focus on footing even with my transformed balance. Human-me would have been breathless within minutes. Dragon-bride-me barely noticed the exertion, my body capable of so much more than I'd yet tested.
As we climbed, the air changed. It had been cool in the passages, comfortable, ordinary despite the extraordinary surroundings. Now it grew charged with something that made my new senses sing—ancient power layered so thick I could taste it, could feel it pressing against my skin like barometric pressure before a storm.
Nervousness coiled in my belly alongside anticipation. I was virgin still—the fact felt simultaneously huge and irrelevant. Huge because I'd never done this, never been with anyone like this, didn't know what to expect beyond clinical descriptions and my own imagination. Irrelevant because I was transformed now, wearing his collar, bound by Pact and ceremony and bond so deep I couldn't remember what it felt like to be separate from him.
"Almost there," Caelus said, squeezing my hand. Through the bond, I felt his own anticipation mixing with tenderness and barely restrained hunger. He'd waited so long. Centuries of preparation, of hope, of building a life meant to be shared. And I'd waited too—not as long, not consciously, but every moment of my life before him suddenly felt like prologue to this.
The passage ended in a wall that dissolved at Caelus's approach, and we stepped through into—
My breath caught hard enough to hurt.
