“Zaya,” he rasps, gaze bright with his dragon.
Both my mates are here with me, though the dragon seems content to just watch. “Rath.”
“Call me Jordan, Tempest. When you come, just this one time, call me Jordan. That’s how it should have been between us for our first time.”
I wrap my hand around his neck, gazing deeply into his eyes. “Jordan. Just this once, then we’ll move forward through the now together.”
“Yes, yes.” Rath’s next two strokes fall off rhythm. Tension threads through the arms gently caging me.
I relax further into the pleasure he’s stoked from me, involuntarily arching up off the table as that pleasure cracks wide open and I crash over the edge. Rath captures my nipple in his mouth. My hand slides up his arm and neck to hold his head to me. Fully sheathed within me, he grinds against my pubic bone as I orgasm.
Essence — from me, from the shard of the intersection point dangling around my neck — explodes through the room, through the house, spilling out across the beach.
“Jordan!” I cry, clenching around his cock. All the energy I released floods back, twisting and churning around me. “Jordan …”
As if directed by my verbal claiming of him, all that essence threads back and forth between us, following and fortifying the soul bond between me and the dragon — and forging a new tie between Rath and me.
“Now you’re mine again,” I whisper, the words pulled forth as if uttered by the universe — the universe realigning what was always meant to be? “Jordan, my past. Rath, my present and future.”
Rath grunts under the onslaught of the energy transferring between us, thrusting into me hard one more time. Then only his hips jerk as he holds himself over me. “Zaya, mine forever.”
Before the essence unleashed from our claiming of each other even settles between us, Rath gathers me up in his arms — wet clothing, blanket and all, his cock still lodged within me — and carries me through the dark house.
The sun has fully set.
I’m only half awake as Rath gently washes me, all of me, including massaging an apple-scented conditioner into my hair and making certain my clit is sparkling clean by licking me into a shuddering, gentle orgasm.
“I love you,” he murmurs into my neck as he carries me to bed, then climbs in beside me. “I know we’re still learning who each of us is again, but even with our soul bond severed and hidden in that fucking armoire, I love you. Beyond the fucking universe, through all dimensions, in every incarnation.”
“You’re mine,” I murmur back, snuggling into his chest and unable to articulate more than the most basic of declarations. “I’m never letting you go.”
He hums. “Promise, Tempest?”
“I’d hunt you through eternity.”
“Not necessary. I’ll be right beside you.”
I fall into a deep and healing slumber.
Nine
RATH
* * *
Every time I wake, I expect her to be gone. Gone again.
I surface with the remembrance of that soul-deep ache, that utter loss, that epic loneliness … but she’s here. Curled on the other side of the bed, but still with me. Not that I’m truly sleeping. Not with the energy Zaya somehow transferred to me still roiling around me, even as it slowly seeps into my system. Even as some of my own essence slowly seeps into Zaya.
I should take my Tempest back to the intersection point, not that she isn’t safe here — not just with me, but with the cu-sith lounging on the back patio guarding her, the Outcasts’ around-the-clock patrols, and Coda and Rought running oversight because we all know the Cataclysm is going to hit somewhere, from some direction. But I want to linger in this moment with her a little longer. Going back to the estate will trigger all sorts of unresolved issues, though, and … for once in my fucking life I want to just be in this moment.
I slumber again — the dragon peaceful within me, pleased.
Light shifts across the room as the moon rises, bright and almost full. I don’t move to close the curtains because I don’t want to wake Zaya. But I turn my head before my eyes are even fully open. And she’s still there, right next to me. A goddess with the power of the universe within, slumbering at my side.
The fragmented and hazy nightmares constructed from my memories completely dissipate, and I wonder if they’re somehow being purged by my system, maybe even as a result of the energy transfer. As if our destiny is slowly being rewritten as we nap here, basking in the echoes of our pleasure, in the fortification of our bonds.
Zaya.
