“I do. I know it’s important, the bond between our animals. And I...” I squeezed his hand. “I want to know all of you. Right now.”
Dain was quiet for a moment, just looking at me with an expression I couldn’t quite read. Then he smiled, and it transformed his entire face. “I would be honored. My wolf has been demanding to meet your dragon since the moment I scented you at the ball.”
“Really?”
“Really. He’s been a pain about it, honestly. Very insistent.” His tone was teasing, but there was truth underneath it. My dragon was the same.
I laughed, the sound surprising me. “My dragon has been the same. He’s been restless, wanting to see you. Both of you.”
“The gazebo has a clear view of the back lawn,” Dain said. “Plenty of space for shifting. And it’s private. No one will disturb us.”
As we walked, his thumb traced circles on the back of my hand. Such a small gesture, but it sent warmth spreading through me. I was thankful that, despite the cold, we hadn’t bothered to put on proper winter gear. We could rely on each other to keep warm rather than hats and gloves.
The gazebo was a white-painted structure with heat lamps glowing overhead. Beyond it stretched a wide expanse of snow-covered lawn, bordered by trees strung with lights.
“You can go first,” Dain said softly. “If you’re comfortable.”
I nodded and walked down the gazebo steps onto the lawn. The snow crunched under my feet. I took a breath, letting my dragon rise to the surface. The shift came easily, more easily than it had in months. Maybe because I wasn’t stressed, wasn’t afraid.
My dragon emerged in a shimmer of scales. They were a deep onyx, and when the light hit me just right, they shimmered purple. I was smaller than many dragons, built for speed rather than power, not that I ever really got a chance to spread my wings. In fact, I hadn’t had time or opportunity to shift in a very long time. My dragon was ready to stretch.
I spread out my wings and flapped them. The dusting of snow on the ground floated into the air like I was in my own personal snow globe.
I turned to look at Dain and saw him staring, his mouth slightly open.
“Magnificent,” he whispered.
My dragon preened at the compliment, arching his neck. Then I rumbled, a low sound of invitation.
Dain’s shift was faster than mine, more practiced. One moment he stood there in his fine clothes, the next a massive wolf took his place. His fur was all black. He was huge, easily the largest wolf I’d ever seen. His eyes, though, remained the same intense amber.
He approached slowly, giving me space, his body language submissive despite his size. My dragon watched him come, instincts warring between caution and the overwhelming pull of recognition.
Mate.
This wasmymate.
When the wolf was close enough, he lowered his head and huffed out a breath. I extended my neck, bringing my snout close to his. For a long moment we just breathed each other in. Then, hesitantly, the wolf pressed his muzzle against my scales.
The bond snapped into place like a physical thing. Not complete, that would require the mating bite, but present. Real. A golden thread connecting us that I could feel thrumming in my chest.
My dragon made a sound of contentment, and the wolf’s tail began to wag. It was such a normal, happy gesture that I felt laughter bubble up even in this form. It came out as a series of pleased chirps.
The wolf play-bowed, and suddenly we were moving—not hunting, not fighting, but playing. He darted around me in the snow, and I leaped over him, my wings spread for balance. We chased each other through the garden like younglings, careless and free.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt this light.
Finally, breathless and happy, we collapsed together in the snow near the gazebo. The wolf curled around my dragon, his warmth seeping into my scales. I tucked my head against his side and felt his heartbeat, strong and steady.
After a while, we both shifted back. Dain helped me into my coat again, his fingers lingering on my shoulders.
“That was...” he started.
“Yeah,” I agreed, not needing him to finish.
He pulled me close, and I let myself lean into his embrace. His chin rested on top of my head, and I could feel the rumble of contentment in his chest.
“I meant what I said earlier,” Dain murmured. “You’re everything. You and our child. I will spend every day proving that to you.”
