Fuck.
I glance down where my chest is still exposed, shirt and coat gaping open where I ripped them. From the light of the moon, I see small gray scales, the same color as the ones onmy cheeks, except these are rimmed in gold. They stretch from below my right pec, arcing up like a slash, each one slightly larger as they travel closer to the pure golden one over my heart—a heart that’s no longer bulging. No longer hurting.
The gold gleams even in the dark. It just goes to show how thoroughly I’ve bonded with Auren. She’s marked me.
Pure male satisfaction bursts through my chest at the sight.
Making sure my knees are notched securely against Argo’s sides, I shift my sleeve. Sure enough, my rot lines are back to normal. They’re thin, scattered down sparsely, no longer covering every inch of skin. But my spikes are also exposed, my ears pointed, fangs sharp, and scales littering my cheeks.
There’s no denying it. Not only have I sprouted new scales on my chest, but my two forms have fused together. Rip and Rot, both on display.
Somehow, becoming pair bonded has fixed me. This isn’t just me draining myself of power like at the Conflux and my body going faulty, flipping back and forth to offer me power in both forms just so I didn’t fucking die. These are my fae traits actually being blended back together again the way they used to be.
I suppose it doesn’t matter now that I let people see me change from one form to the next in public while I was fueled by pure retribution. Because now, I’ve merged anyway.
Just to make sure I can, I will the spikes along my spine to sink back down, and they easily do, with much less force needed than before.
“Hmm,” I say, moving my limbs. Nothing else seems to be different on the outside, but on the inside, I feel stronger. Whole. Fucking amazing.
And with it, I feelher. Feel this new pair bond thriving with Auren’s light and warmth. She’s healed me.
This euphoria of the bond and my melded forms is incredible. But what makes me break into a cold sweat is remembering theotherthing that happened in that bog when the pair bond snapped into place.
The fuckingdragon.
After years of my father trying to push my magic, it’s funny that I should emit a splintered dragon now. Funny that it took being paired for it to break free.
He forced me to push my rot to the limits, to pushmeto the limits. But it wasn’t just magical-control and immense power that he wanted from me. He saw the scales on my face and the spikes on my arms, and he was waiting for something else to burst out.
Only, it never did. And he never fucking forgave me for it.
For generations, every son born in my father’s bloodline was able to manifest a dragon. The first Cull to do it was covered head to toe in blood-red scales that isolated him from other fae. When he manifested a fully corporeal dragon years later, he punished everyone for their snub by having his dragon wipe out the entire village.
Culls became king of the skies for centuries, until that inherited magic dwindled away. Fewer scales, fewer spikes, no dragons. I was the first to be born with both spikes and scales after five generations.
And now, I’ve actually manifested one. Not solid, only formed with shadow, but still.What the fuck.
I never actually thought it would happen, and when I was younger, I was glad. The maniacal gleam in my father’s eye was enough for me to know that being punished for failing was going to be better than whatever he’d do to me if I actually managed to manifest.
I’m not quite sure how I did it or if I can control it. But…one thing at a time. I don’t feel the dragon’s presence right now, but I do feel Auren’s, and that’s more than enough.
The pair bond thrums in my chest, warming me from the inside out. It’s the reassurance that I desperately needed. It’s the confirmation that she’s alive. A promise that, even apart, we are connected.
And she’s calling to me. Like her aura did that night on the pirate ship. Leading me.
Until we’re back together, our bond will carry this underlying urge. Päyurs don’t do well apart. We are meant to be together. That’s why we’re a pair. We’re no longer meant to be separated.
I instantly reach out for my raw magic just to see if…
But no. There’s nothing. That well of power that allowed me to open a rip lies empty. I still can’t tear open the world to get to her. I’ve been healed. Put back together. Yet it seems that part of my magic that allowed me to get into Orea and get Auren into Annwyn has been drained away forever.
Bitter disappointment presses into me, but I’m thankful for Auren’s presence that runs beneath my skin. I may not be able to open a rip still, but I have the bridge, so my plan is the same.
Get to her.
My bond seems satisfied because I’m on the move, and I have Argo to thank for that. I stroke my hand down his neck again. “I don’t know how the fuck you got me on your back, but you did good, beast,” I tell him.
He flicks his head to look at me over his shoulder, iridescent gaze glinting in the dark, and I swear, he arches his brow at me.
