“That is because you are new to our world,” I say, almost not believing what I am feeling. “You have heard of fated mates, yes?”
“Sure.” She nods. “Like Caleb and Elena. Sounded freaky to me, but she seems happy, so who am I to judge, right?”
“Right,” I say. “I think that’s what this is.”
She stares at me. “What?”
“It’s what drew me to you. When the crash happened. My dragon…” I shake my head. “He felt you. Felt his mate in danger. That’s what this is.”
“Amatebond?”
“I think so. Yes.” It’s not true. I’msureof it. More certain than I’ve felt about anything since I woke in the mountains.
“So…. So what? Now we date?” She’s still staring at me.
I smile a little. “Dragons don’t… date, Mara.”
“Fuck. Of course they don’t.” Her eyes narrow. “Wait a bit… Didyoudo this?”
I shake my head. “I didn’t create it. It’s been there. Building. Waiting for the healing bond to get out of the way so I could feel it properly.”
“How do you know?”
“Because my fire knows you. Has known you from the beginning. I thought it was just the healing magic responding to your need. But it’s more than that. My dragon recognizes you as—” The word catches. “As mine.”
“Yours,” she repeats flatly.
“Yes.”
“So what… I’m just magically yours now? Because dragon instinct said so?”
“No. Because you are fundamentally, essentially you. And my soul recognized yours before my mind caught up.”
She’s shaking her head. “This is too much. This is— I can’t process this right now, K. I just had one bond ripped out of my chest. I can’t immediately sign up for another one.”
“I’m not asking you to.”
“Then what are you asking?”
“For time. For patience. For the chance to let this develop naturally instead of forcing it or running from it.” I hold her gaze. “The mate bond is forming whether we want it or not. But we can control whether we accept it. Whether we let it complete.”
“And if we let it complete?”
“Dragons mate for life, Mara.” I focus on her, not allowing myself to hope yet. “You would be mine. I would be yours. Forever.”
“Forever,” she breathes. “Holy shit. That’s… that’s a lot.” Her throat works. “What if I don’t want it?”
The question shouldn’t hurt. But it does.
“Then I will walk away.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that.”
She studies me. Looking for the trap. The manipulation. The thousand ways this could be another form of control.
She won’t find any.
