“Thenwhy?”
I bare my teeth. “Because the gods—if they even exist—thought it would be funny to makeyoumine. Because every time I hear your voice, I forget I’m supposed to be alone. Because you looked at me and saw amaninstead of a monster, and that… that hurts worse than any sting tail bite.”
She blinks. “Wait—what do you mean,yours?”
“I mean you’re myjalshagar,” I growl. “My bonded mate. My soul’s other half. We don’t choose it. It justis. And once it starts, it never stops.”
She sways slightly. “But… you didn’t tell me. Why not?”
I stare at her like she’s cracked. “Because it’s acurse. You think I wanted this? You think I wanted to burn every time you smile? To ache when you laugh at some old Earth joke I don’t even understand? Toneedyou like breath?”
She steps closer. “You think I don’t feel it too?”
My voice dies.
She’s looking at me like I’m the only thing that matters. Like the sun’s rising behind my eyes and she doesn’t care if it burns her.
“You think I’m scared because you’re big and dangerous and grumpy?” she says, voice trembling. “I’ve seen sting tails, fungus zombies, and Ciampa in the morning without his hair serum. You don’t even crack the top five.”
I huff. “You’re insane.”
“And you’re in love.”
That stops the world.
I can feel my heart pounding in my ears. The canyon below could open up and swallow us whole and I wouldn’t move.
“I don’t deserve you,” I whisper. “I got people killed. I let vengeance steer me and innocents died because of it.”
She shakes her head. “That was then. This is now.”
“I’m still the same creature,” I growl.
“No,” she says, stepping close, laying a hand over my chest. “You’re not. The monster would’ve left me on the sun-baked ridge to die. The monster wouldn’t have cooked sting tail meat just to make me feel comfortable. The monster wouldn’tstay, even when it hurt.”
My chest tightens. Her hand is warm. Small. Brave.
“I don’t want to lose you,” I say. It’s barely a breath.
She smiles. “Then stop running.”
I reach for her before I realize I’ve moved. My hands span her waist like she’s made of spun glass. She tips her face up, eyes shining, lips parted like she’s waiting for me to kiss her. I don’t.
Not yet.
I press my forehead to hers instead. Close my eyes. Breathe her in. Let the bond settle between us like a third heartbeat.
“I still don’t know how to be what you need,” I murmur.
“Good thing you don’t have to figure it out alone.”
Her fingers curl into the fur at my chest. And I know, in that moment, that I am no longer in exile.
I am home.
And gods help me…
…I will burn the galaxy before I lose her.
