"I was so afraid you would say no," he said quietly. "That you would walk away. That I would have to watch you choose someone else, or choose to be alone, and I would have to—" He broke off, his jaw clenching. "I don't know what I would have done."
"I'm here," I said, my hands coming up to rest against his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath my palms. "I chose you. I'm here."
And I did. And as the fire crackled and the drums outside faded to a distant heartbeat, I realized with a fierce, sudden certainty that I had made the right choice. not for the pack, but for me. Whatever came next, I wouldn't face it alone.
I was Daska's mate now.
And he was mine.
CHAPTER 23
DASKA
She chose me. She wants me.
My throat was too tight to speak. I reached for her instead, cupping her face gently, feeling her soft skin against my palms. Her eyes were bright, fixed on mine with an intensity that made something primal and possessive surge through my blood.
"Ellie," I managed, my voice rough. "I…"
But the words tangled in my mouth, clumsy and inadequate. How did I tell her what she meant to me? How did I explain that every morning I woke hoping to see her face, that every night I lay awake listening for her breathing, that the thought of losing her made my chest feel like it was caving in?
I couldn't. Not in her language. Not in mine.
So I kissed her instead.
I kissed her slowly. There was no urgency in it, no desperation, nothing of the fear that had been living in my chest for the last day. Just her. Just this. The warmth of her lips and the press ofher hands and the soft sound of the fire and the distant drums far below us, fading to nothing.
When I finally lifted my head, her eyes were still closed. Her lashes lay dark against her cheeks, and there were still traces of the red ochre Sira had painted on her brow, and the marks I had drawn on her skin with my own blood, drying in the firelight. She looked, I thought, like something from the old stories.
She opened her eyes and smiled up at me. I found myself suddenly filled with so much joy, I could barely keep it inside. I needed to move.
“Come," I said, taking her hand. "I want to show you something."
She blinked. "Now?"
"Yes, now." I grabbed two deerskins from the pile near the hearth, slinging them over my shoulder, and tugged her gently toward the entrance. "Trust me."
The cold air hit us as soon as we stepped outside the moon hearth, sharp and biting after the warmth of the fire. Ellie gasped and I felt her hesitate, but I kept hold of her hand and pulled her forward.
"Daska, it's freezing," she protested, laughing slightly. "Where are we?"
"Close," I promised. "Very close. Just around…here."
We rounded the rocky outcropping that sheltered the moon hearth from the wind, and I heard her breath catch. The hot spring lay before us, steam rising in lazy spirals into the afternoon sky, sheltered by the outcropping and the curve of the mountain, we were hidden. Private. The moon hearth and this spring were kept separate from the pack's daily life for exactly this reason, so newly mated couples could have time alone, time to learn about each other without curious eyes watching.
"Oh," Ellie breathed, her eyes wide. "Daska, this is..."
"For us," I said quietly. "Mating place. Very old."
She stepped closer to the edge, her hand still clasped in mine, and I watched her take it in—the carvings on the stones, the names worn smooth by time, the marks left by countless couples who'd stood here just like we were standing now.
Will she understand? Will she know what this means?
"These symbols," she said softly, tracing one with her eyes. "What do they say?"
"Names. Promises." I moved to stand beside her, pointing to a spiral carved deep into the rock. "This one is... 'forever.' This…" I touched an arc, “…'together.' Some are just names. Some are…" I hesitated, searching for the word. "…wishes. For children. For long life. For..." I gestured vaguely, frustrated by the limits of her language.
"Love," she finished quietly.
