I should move. Should extract myself from this tangle of limbs and scales and get my head on straight. We had a mission.People depending on us. No time for lying around in post-orgasmic bliss.
Except I couldn't make myself move.
Nyx's arm tightened fractionally, like even in sleep he knew I was thinking about leaving. His face was buried in my hair, his breath warm against my neck.
What the hell had I done?
The question circled through my mind, gaining momentum. Last night came back in flashes. The knife. Him kneeling. That word he kept using.
Kyvara.
I'm yours if you'll have me.
I'd said yes. Had grabbed him and kissed him and then we'd fucked against a canyon wall like the world was ending. And then again on the ground. And I'd fallen asleep in his arms like it was the most natural thing in the universe.
Like I belonged there.
My chest tightened. Panic started to creep in around the edges, cold fingers wrapping around my lungs.
This was for real. It had to be. The formal presentation of the blade, the kneeling, the specific phrasing. I'd watched enough of the other mated pairs to recognize the pattern. Darrokar had claimed Terra. Rath had claimed Orla. And now Nyx had claimed me.
And I'd accepted.
Holy shit.
Sure, I'd been dreaming about him for a month. Sure, the sex was incredible. Sure, something in my chest pulled tight every time I looked at him, and being away from him felt wrong in a way I couldn't explain.
But that didn't mean I was ready to bind myself to him for life.
Did it?
I thought about Terra. How she'd gone from fighting Darrokar tooth and nail to standing beside him as an equal. How she'd found her place in Scalvaris, found purpose and partnership and something that looked an awful lot like happiness.
Vega had been so suspicious of the Drakarn, so determined to maintain her independence. And then Zarvash had happened. Now they moved like two halves of the same weapon, finishing each other's sentences, working together with the kind of synchronization that came from absolute trust.
All the mated pairs seemed content. More than content. They seemed complete in a way that made something in my chest ache with want.
But how could I trust this? How could I trust that what I felt was real and not just biology, not just some alien bond hijacking my brain chemistry and making me think I wanted something I didn't?
What if I woke up in six months and realized I'd made a huge mistake? What if the attraction faded, and I was stuck with someone I barely knew, bound by customs I didn't fully understand?
The panic squeezed harder. My breathing went shallow, too fast. I needed out of this cocoon, needed air that didn't taste like him, needed distance.
I extracted myself carefully. Lifted his arm, slid my leg free of his tail. His wings shifted, responding to my movement even though he was still asleep.
I froze. Waited. His breathing stayed even.
I got myself free. We’d slipped on some clothes before fully surrendering to sleep. This was still hostile territory, and we needed to be prepared, but I had to strap my leathers back on. I clipped the new knife to my belt.
The weight of it was different from my old blade. Heavier. The balance point sat farther back. I'd need to adjust my draw, compensate for the changed center of gravity.
A weapon made specifically for my hand. Crafted by him, carried by him, offered to me with his heart laid bare.
I'm yours if you'll have me.
I shoved the words down and moved away from where Nyx still slept. Around the corner, behind a cluster of rocks that would give me privacy for the morning necessities my body was demanding.
The air was cooler here. Not cold, never cold on this hellscape of a planet, but the absence of Nyx's body heat made goosebumps rise on my arms.
