It didn't work.
My tail kept creeping toward her. Sliding across the stone, seeking her warmth. I caught it each time, forced it back, felt like I was fighting my own body.
She finished eating, took a long drink from her water flask. Her throat worked as she swallowed. I watched the movement, transfixed.
"I'll take first watch," she said. The first words she'd spoken since we landed.
"No." The word came out harsher than intended. I gentled my tone. "You're still healing. I'll watch. Sleep."
Her jaw tightened. I could see the argument forming, the instinct to refuse help or consideration. Then she looked down at her bandaged ribs, made some internal calculation.
"Fine. Wake me in four hours."
She lay down without another word. Turned on her side, facing the wall. Away from me.
I settled against the opposite wall, my wings folded tight against my back. The stone was uncomfortable, all sharp edges and unforgiving surfaces. I ignored it.
Four hours of watching her sleep. Four hours of drowning in her scent, of fighting the urge to cross the space and curl myself around her.
This was going to be torture.
The canyon cooled as night deepened. Not cold, never cold on Volcaryth, but the absence of the suns' direct heat made the air almost tolerable. I tracked the temperature drop through the way sound changed, echoes bouncing differently off stone that wasn't superheated.
Lexa's breathing evened out.
My tail moved without permission. Sliding across the stone, drawn to her like iron to a lodestone. I watched it go, this traitorous appendage that wouldn't obey my commands. It reached the edge of her bedroll, the tip hovering just above her ankle.
So close. I could feel the heat radiating from her skin, smell the shift in her scent that came with sleep.
I yanked my tail back. The movement was sharp enough to scrape scales against stone.
She didn't stir.
I forced myself to scan the canyon. But my eyes kept drifting back to her. The curve of her hip beneath the thin bedroll. The rise and fall of her breathing.
Mine.
The word pulsed through me with each heartbeat. Undeniable. Absolute.
Except she didn't want to be.
The hours crawled past. I counted her breaths, tracked the small movements she made in sleep. Twice she reached for something, her hand extending like she was searching. Both times I nearly crossed the distance, nearly gave her what she sought.
Both times I stayed where I was.
When four hours had passed, I woke her as promised. She came alert instantly, no grogginess or confusion. Soldier's reflexes.
"Your watch," I said.
She nodded, already moving to take up position near the canyon entrance. I settled onto my bedroll, wings spread slightly to dissipate heat.
Sleep should have come easily. I was exhausted, muscles screaming from hours of flight, mind foggy from lack of rest the night before.
But I lay there, hyperaware of her presence twenty feet away. Could hear her shifting position, the quiet rasp of her breathing, the small sounds she made checking her weapons.
What was I doing wrong?
Among my people, mating was straightforward. The bond struck, you claimed each other, you nested together. There was courtship before, displays of strength and skill, gifts exchanged.But after the claiming, the connection was established. Permanent.
