As he told Alashiya the story of his famous ancestors, he considered what it would’ve been like for Saara. If the rumors and old stories were true, she would’ve known that Vanasarvik was her mate the instant she caught his scent for the first time. Elves were incredibly sensitive to pheromones and found their mates with their noses. Once found, they relied on their mate’s pheromones for nervous system and hormone regulation — making them an extreme weakness.
It was no wonder elves had kept their secrets for so long. A dragon would go mad without their mate, to be sure, but an elf’s body would shut down completely in a miserable, slow-acting death.
Taevas watched Alashiya drift across the kitchen on her bare feet, her golden robe fluttering around her as she sliced cheese and plump tomatoes. Sunlight touched her curls, her soft cheeks, and the tips of her eyelashes. The scent of her, cypress and warmth, permeated every breath he took.
He recalled how he felt when he smelled her for the first time. He forced his mind past the instinctual recoil he experienced whenever he thought of how out of control he’d been, how ashamed and afraid.
He hadn’t dared probe any deeper into his suspicions, all those silly family rumors about an elvish ancestor, until he sat in Alashiya’s kitchen.
She asked a dozen questions about what the tapestry looked like and how it was made, completely unaware of the monumental step Taevas was silently taking. He did his best to answer her, but his mind was in that instant ten years ago, when everything in him had shifted so violently.
Saara had lived many generations in the past, and dragon genetics tended to dominate whatever they were mixed with. If there was any trace of her left in the Aždaja line, it couldn’t be seen at a glance.
But perhaps it could be felt.
He wasn’t certain why it was so much easier for him to consider that possibility than the other certainty — the thing he knew in his bones, in the part of him that grew fiercer and fiercer every day. But there was no running from that nameless thing any longer.
Because Alashiya was right. He’d been hiding for a very, very long time. He’d hidden something essential away, hoping it would die in darkness, but it’d only been dormant, awaiting her sunlight.
Now it was alive, and it would never allow itself to be hidden again.
Whether they were drawn to one another by fate or some genetic predisposition didn’t matter. He couldn’t be without her. He didn’twantto be without her, despite his fears.
Taevas wanted her presence pressed into the grain of his life. He wanted to make a new nest with her. He wanted to show her that the world wasn’t only full of terrors, but beauty, too. He wanted to make up for everything that had been so cruelly ripped from her — from them both.
But it wasn’t those wants that urged him to confront what he’d been stubbornly ignoring. Rather, it was the certainty that he couldn’t force any of it. He couldn’t demand anything from Alashiya, least of all her blind trust.
As much as he needed to get back to his people, Taevas came to the sobering realization that if it came down to it, he would choose Alashiya over returning to the ’Riik. He’d choose her comfort, her autonomy, and her grief over everything he’d worked for over a century.
He’d choose her.
He’dChosenher.
Taevas let out a slow breath.There it is.
The filmy curtain he’d placed between himself and the truth was pulled away, revealing what he’d known for a very long time.
He wasn’t giving up on getting her to safety, nor the ’Riik, but Taevas was forced to accept that he couldn’t rush it or force her hand without risking her loss.
Guilt and urgency gnawed at him, but it was muted by the sudden and profound peace he felt when he accepted what was done. There was nothing gained without sacrifice, he knew, and if he had to give up a little more time to earn her trust, then so be it.
He tilted his face up for a kiss when Alashiya bent to place a plate in front of him. She shyly met his demand, her touch light and sweet.
“Will you show me more of your work while I rest today?” he asked.
She pulled back a little to examine his face. He wondered what she expected of him. More demands, probably. More pressure to help him, to leave the only home she’d ever known. It must’ve been a surprise to hear he only wished to spend time admiring her for the work that had drawn their threads together.
A slow smile spread across her face. “If you promise toreallyrest, I can work in bed.”
Voice pitched low, he honestly replied, “For you,metsalill,I’d do anything.”
Chapter Thirty
The followingdays were the happiest of her life.
Alashiya wasn’t sure what had stalled Taevas’s urgency to return to his people, but for the next three days, he didn’t say a word about it. Instead, he became a calm, often disarmingly charming presence in her home. Where she went, he was determined to follow, whether his body would allow it or not.
His health improved, and his fever at last seemed to disappear, but she wasn’t blind to the fact that he often hid his pain from her. While his cuts and bruises had healed, whatever had been done to him during his captivity didn’t appear to improve with bed rest and over the counter pain medication. She often caught him grimacing when he thought she wasn’t looking, and he suffered most in the evenings, when his strength finally fled.
