Mine.
The word pulsed through me with each heartbeat, an undeniable truth that had only grown stronger after claiming her body. She was my mate. Had been since the moment her scent hit me in that market tunnel. Last night had just confirmed what I'd known for months.
Except she had no idea.
I'd called herkyvara. The endearment had rolled off my tongue as naturally as breathing.
She hadn't reacted.
Not with recognition, not with understanding, not with the acknowledgment that should have come from a mate hearing her chosen name. She'd just looked at me with those blue eyes, curious maybe, but nothing more.
Did she truly not understand what it meant when a Drakarn warrior chose a name for his woman?
The question gnawed at me. Among my people, the naming was sacred. A declaration of intent, of permanence, of the bond that tied two souls together for life. To give your mate their name was to claim them before the gods and your clan, to announce that they were yours and you were theirs.
But Lexa was human. She didn't know our customs, didn't understand the significance of what I'd given her.
To her, it was probably just another foreign word in a language full of them.
The realization was a heavy weight on my heart. I'd been so certain of the bond, so consumed by it, that I'd forgotten she couldn't feel it the way I did. For me, the connection was visceral, undeniable, a hook lodged behind my sternum that pulled me toward her every moment.
For her, it was just good sex.
Amazing sex, actually.
She finished her stretches and moved to her pack, checking the contents quickly. Everything had its place, everything served a purpose. Including me, apparently.
I forced myself to stand, to move, to stop sitting here like some lovesick novice and act like the warrior I was supposed to be.
"Let me check your bandages before we go," I said.
She glanced up, and I saw the flicker of resistance cross her face. She wanted to refuse, wanted to insist she was fine and we could leave the bandages alone until tonight.
But she was also practical enough to know infection could kill her out here.
"Fine," she said. "But make it quick. We're losing time."
Losing time. As if every moment not spent flying toward Ignarath was a personal failure.
I crossed to her, my tail coiling and uncoiling behind me. The cave suddenly felt smaller with both of us standing, the space between us charged with everything we weren't saying.
She turned her back to me, started unlacing the front of her shirt. The movement was casual, impersonal, like undressing in front of me was no different than changing in a barracks. I supposed for her, it wasn't. Soldiers learned early that modesty was a luxury you couldn't always afford.
Still, watching her bare her back to me, seeing the pale expanse of skin marked by my bandages, sent possessiveness surging through my veins.
I stepped closer, my hands finding the edge of the wrappings. The fabric was clean, no blood seeping through. A good sign. I unwound it carefully, revealing the three parallel gashes the firebird's talons had left.
They looked better. Significantly better. The edges were already knitted together, the angry red reduced to pink. Thesalve had done its work overnight, accelerating healing that should have taken days into hours.
"The goop you put under there is working well," she said, her voice matter-of-fact. "What's in it?"
"Several herbs that grow near the lava flows, along with sacred ash and a ground heat crystal." I traced the edge of one wound with my claw, checking for heat that would indicate infection. Her skin was cool, healthy. "The ash provides minerals. The crystal accelerates cellular repair. The herbs prevent corruption."
"Huh. Effective."
That was it. Clinical observation, practical interest in the mechanics of healing. No acknowledgment of the intimacy of this moment, of my hands on her bare skin, of the fact that I'd tended these wounds after she'd been unconscious and vulnerable in my arms.
My tail moved without conscious thought, the tip finding her hip, stroking along the curve there. Soothing. Claiming.
