Not just alive. Not just breathing.
Together.
29
KARA
The storm is gone. The monster is dead. But now the silence feels louder than both.
He lies half over me, his weight pressing me into the sand, wings curved protectively, as if even the stars might try to steal me from him. His chest rises and falls against mine, the steady rhythm slowly easing from the ragged thunder of battle and our joining.
I don’t move. I don’t want to. Every inch of me aches, but it’s a sweet ache, a right ache—one that says I belong exactly where I am.
His hand lifts, claws careful as he brushes grit from my cheek. The gesture is gentle, but when his thumb lingers at the corner of my mouth, I feel the tremor in him. Not weakness—never weakness—but something deeper, like he’s holding himself together with sheer will.
“You are okay?” he asks, voice gravel and smoke, low enough that the night itself seems to lean in to hear it.
I shake my head, throat too tight for words. The truth is I’m bruised, scraped, bloodied—but none of it matters. Not when I’ve never felt stronger. Not when he looks at me like this.
I touch his face, fingers tracing the hard ridges of his scars, the cool line of scales. He stills beneath my hand, eyes black and fathomless, watching me like he’s waiting for me to flinch. But I don’t.
“You’re beautiful,” I whisper.
His breath catches, sharp and surprised as he lowers his forehead to mine, horns grazing my hair, his whole body curling tighter around me.
“Mine,” he says again, but softer this time—not a growl, a vow. “Treasure.”
Tears sting my eyes. I don’t fight them. I nod, my chest swelling with something I can’t name, but it’s too big to contain. My hand slips across his chest, pressing over his hearts, and I feel the steady drum of them beneath my palm. Steady because of me. Because we fought together, lived together, loved together.
The wind shifts, carrying the faint smell of blood and dust—but also the promise of something cleaner beyond. His wings unfurl slightly, then settle again, cocooning me in shadow and protection.
I sigh, my body melting into his, the exhaustion finally pulling me under. My last thought before sleep claims me is simple, unshakable, undeniable?—
I am his. And he is mine.
I wake to warmth. Not the meager heat of the desert dawn, but the solid press of him against my back, his arm heavy around mywaist. His tail is draped across my legs like a chain, but there’s no weight in it I want to escape.
For a moment, I lie still, breathing it in—the slow rise and fall of his chest, the deep rumble of sleep in his throat, the way his horns pull my hair when he shifts. It feels unreal. It feels like a dream I’ve stolen from someone else’s life.
My fingers brush over his hand where it spans my hip. Scarred knuckles. Cool scales. The strength that held me on the cliff, that cut down the monster, now slack and loose in sleep. I trace the line of his thumb, soft circles, memorizing the feel of him.
His breath changes—not awake yet, but aware, the kind of awareness a warrior never loses. He tightens his arm, drawing me closer until my back is flush with his chest, until I feel every line of him pressed to me.
A sigh slips from my lips before I can stop it. The sound makes his chest rumble, a low, pleased growl against my spine.
“You should sleep,” he murmurs, voice thick and rough with the weight of rest.
“I can’t.” My voice is barely a whisper. “If I close my eyes, I’ll lose this.”
His nose nudges against my hair, the sharp points of his teeth grazing the curve of my neck without breaking skin. My breath catches.
“You will not lose it,” he says, and though the words are simple, the certainty in them is absolute.
I turn in his arms—slowly, carefully—until I’m facing him. The scars that mar one side of his face catch the early light, jagged ridges that should make him monstrous but only make himmore mine. His eyes open, black as the void, and they don’t look away.
“You scare me,” I admit. My fingers tremble as they trace his jaw. “Not because of what you are. Because of what I feel when I look at you.”
His tail tightens around my legs. His hand cups the back of my neck, firm and sure.
