Her orgasm triggers mine, and for a moment, there's nothing but Dani and the connection between us.
The shower water can't wash away the memory of her standing defiant against Loki, eyes ablaze with a power older than time itself. Something fundamental shifted between us in Zephyria—something that transcends the prophecy, the bond, everything I thought I understood about us.
When I was drowning in that frozen lake, death's fingers killing me over and over, it wasn't just my life flashing before my eyes—it was her. Every smile, every laugh, every goddamn stubborn argument. And then she was there, refusing to let the darkness take me, her determination burning brighter than any divine light.
The way she suffered my pain through our bond and commanded the Zephyrite Stone like she was born to wield its power broke something open inside me. This woman who walked into my lifeon a prophecy has carved herself into places I didn't know existed within me.
What started as fate has become something I would choose a thousand times over. Something that makes me—a creature who's lived a millenia—finally understand what it means to be truly alive.
I need to feel her against me, around me, with me. Not just the physical connection, thoughgods—how I crave that constantly, but this other thing between us—this fragile, unbreakable thing that grows stronger with every battle, every sacrifice, every moment we choose each other despite the universe's bullshit.
I've lived lifetimes, but only now do I understand what it means to love someone beyond reason, beyond self, beyond even immortality.
I feel almost normal again, dressed in low-hanging sweats and a cotton tee that still smells like fabric softener. My hair's still damp as I stretch, and my muscles finally relax after weeks of constant vigilance.
I watch Dani move around the bedroom, the gentle curve of her ass visible through her thin shorts. The memory of her just moments ago coming undone around my cock—head thrown back, honey-gold eyes nearly black with pleasure, that perfect mouth forming a silent 'O' as those delicious aftershocks quiver through her body—sends fresh heat through my veins.
Every. Fucking. Time. No matter how often I've had her, I'll always want more.
Mine. All fucking mine.
We descend the stairs, and the rich aroma of sizzling meat, roasted chilies, and warm corn tortillas wraps around us like an embrace. My nostrils flare, catching the distinctive scents of Rosa's legendary chile rellenos—poblano peppers stuffed with queso fresco, battered and fried to golden perfection. The sharp tang of lime and cilantro cuts through the air, promising her homemade salsa verde isn't far behind.
Dani's stomach releases a growl so fierce it could rival my own territorial snarls. Her eyes widen, fixating on the kitchen with the intensity of a predator spotting prey. After weeks of surviving on dried venison, stale bread, and fermented skyr in Zephyria, the promise of Rosa's cooking has her practically vibrating.
"Feed me, or I die," she whispers, clutching my arm with desperate fingers.
She'd begged for food the moment we stumbled through our bedroom door, but one taste of her lips and my hunger for her overrode everything else. I'd backed her against the wall, my hand tangling in her hair, and watched her eyes dilate as food became the furthest thing from her mind.
But now, with her satisfied in one hunger and desperate in another, I guide her toward the kitchen with a protective hand at the small of her back. My woman needs sustenance—I intend to see her plate piled high.
"¡Mi ángel precioso!" Rosa's voice rings out the moment we enter. She rushes forward, flour-dusted hands clasped to her chest. "How are you, mi niña? Sit, sit! I have chile rellenos, fresh tortillas, everything you need!"
"Rosa, really, I can—" Dani reaches for a plate, but Rosa swats her hand away.
"Ah-ah! You sit your behind down right now. What kind of welcome would it be if I let the savior of the realms serve herself?"
"I'm perfectly capable of making my own plate," Dani protests, but she's fighting a grin.
"And I'm perfectly capable of ignoring you," Rosa fires back, already piling food high. "Now hush and let me feed you before you waste away to nothing."
"I was only gone a few weeks!"
"A few weeks too many! Look how skinny!"
I can't help the laugh that rumbles up from my chest, watching my fierce little mate get mothered into submission. The sound of their bickering, the smell of home-cooked food, the familiar warmth of our kitchen—it settles something in my soul that's been restless since we left.
At the kitchen island, Erik and Bryn are huddled close, my brother pointing at different dishes with unusual patience. "This is guacamole—mashed avocado with lime and spices."
Bryn examines it with the wary concentration of a warrior facing an unknown enemy. "It's... green."
"Most foods in the mortal realm aren't trying to kill you," Erik assures her, his lips twitching in what might actually be a smile.
"The night is young, silfrhár," Bryn mutters, but she accepts the chip, her mismatched eyes widening in surprise at the taste.
Across from them, Lucian and Seraphina are demolishing a mountain of food with the focus of starving wolves. Despite her ethereal appearance, Seraphina has salsa on her chin and matches Lucian bite for bite.
Lucian glances up, catchingmy eye. "Well, well, if it isn't Thor Junior and his lightning rod. Nice of you to finally join us. Did you get lost in Dani's pants on the way down?" He waggles his eyebrows suggestively.
