“How so?” Sven really wanted to know everything about her.
Her voice faded a bit. She told him about her mother who was brilliant, career-driven, and perpetually disappointed in her oldest daughter. Bryn had grown up feeling more like a project that was never good enough, always pushed aside for the next promotion, the next conference.
“The ring was mine,” she finished. “My anchor. Like someone out there thought I was worth giving a piece of magic to.”
Something fierce and protective surged through Sven at her words. He knew the ring meant something, but he had no idea what. It just felt like destiny.
“Was your whole family like your mother?”
Bryn sat on a chair. “My grandmother was the most wonderful woman ever. She always told me I was special and one day I would realize just how much. She died when I was young. Car accident. She and my mother never got along and I often wondered if she was the reason that Mom worked so hard, to put distance between her past and future. My father loved me but he never could stand up to her.”
He smiled at her. “Maybe someday we’ll figure out why the ring is so important in your life. I’m just glad that you have it back.”
“Why did you bring me here?” Bryn motioned around the office. “It certainly wasn’t for the view.”
His throat tightened and once again, he was unable to voice the words that needed to be said. Fear kept him from telling her what he really was. Or asking her if she knew what she herself was.
“I just wanted to give you the ring back before I forgot again. But it did it all by itself.”
He silently berated himself for his cowardice, but still no words would come.
They spent the rest of the day with Hilda and Freya. Sven noticed that Hilda kept eyeing the ring but held her tongue. With the ritual so close, he didn’t have time to discuss her curiosity, but he made a mental note to figure it out later.
When the time for the mating ritual arrived, Sven expected the discipline of tradition. Instead, he was distracted by thepull. It clawed through him, magnetic and undeniable. Every part of him ached toward Bryn, recognizing her not just as a partner, but as hismatch.
Sven stood with Bryn by his side before the Visionary Trust Council outside of the mating chamber. While he could see that they approved of her, there were still a few feelings of doubt that hung in the air. To try and ease the distrust, he bent to kiss her. It should have been brief and ceremonial. Instead, the kiss stretched long, his lips lingering against hers, unwilling to let go. Bryn surprised him by kissing back and was hesitant for only a heartbeat before melting into him.
At last, he drew away. His breath was ragged as he led her toward the mating chamber, the pull between them stronger than anything he had ever imagined.
The door sealed behind them and all Sven could hear was his own pulse. The chamber glowed with firelight and shadows shifted across stone carved with ancient symbols. He had been here before, but none of that mattered. The only thing that existed was Bryn.
His dragon blood roared and recognized her as his mate, and every muscle in his body strained toward her.
Bryn stood in the circle of light, uncertain but unafraid. Her chest rose and fell and he could feel her passion rise. Hergaze flicked around the room before it locked back onto him. That hint of nervousness only made him want her more.
He crossed the distance in two strides and framed her face with his hands. The moment his skin touched hers, the heat between them flared and licked through him like wildfire. She gasped softly, but didn’t pull away.
Sven kissed her, and this time there was nothing ceremonial about it. His mouth pressed hard against hers, demanding, hungry. She responded with a surprising urgency, clutching at his shoulders, rising on her toes to meet him fully. Her lips parted and he deepened the kiss, tasting her, losing himself.
His hand slid down her back and pulled her flush against him. Her heat seared through the thin barrier of clothing. She made a soft sound in her throat that sent a shudder through him.
“Bryn,” he murmured against her lips, “you don’t know what you do to me.”
She kissed him harder in answer. Her fingers tangled in his hair and pulled him closer. Her body pressed into his and fit perfectly, as if she had always belonged there.
The magic rose around them. Physical need and raw chemistry consumed him. His control frayed with every breath and every brush of her mouth against his. The ritual demanded a bond, but what he wanted was more primal. He wanted to claim her fully, to show her she was his and he was hers.
Her ringed hand slid against his chest, and he felt it burn through him like a brand. She looked up at him then, cheeks flushed, eyes bright with something that mirrored his own desire.
He kissed her again, slower now but deeper, and Sven knew the moment had come.
He pulled her into his arms, carrying her toward the enormous bed in the center of the chamber where the ritualwould be sealed. The last thought that flickered through his mind before the world narrowed to her was simple, fierce, and absolute.
Mine.
Sven lay her down, but the pull between them refused to let him step back. She reached for him as he pulled his shirt off. Their mouths met again and the last threads of restraint snapped.
Her response was fierce and he could feel her hunger was as great as his own. They shed their clothes in a frenzy and his hands memorized every curve of her body.
