“I do,” I manage.
“Good.” His thumb brushes my cheek. “Because whatever happens next—whatever Idris brings, whatever Nightfall must face—this is ours. They cannot take this from us.”
Not just sex.
Not just comfort.
A claim.
A promise.
A choice.
Our choice.
“Then take it,” I whisper. “Take me. I’m yours.”
His control frays at the edges.
I see it in the way his jaw tics, in the way his wings flare just slightly, feathers brushing the carved roots overhead.
The air feels thicker, charged with the weight of his power and his want.
Dagan hisses as he presses my thighs wide apart. And when he looks at me? I shiver with need.
“You’re so beautiful, Oona. Do you know that? Like the earth molded you from all its finest ore just for me.”
“Dagan,” I moan as he traces my body with deliberate, firm caresses.
His hands find me hot and dripping, talented fingers spread my folds, fitting his stone hard cock to my entrance.
“With me, Oona. Always with me.”
When he finally moves inside me, it’s with a care that almost undoes me—slow and steady, like he’s aligning something deep and unseen.
The zareth bond flares bright and hot, but it’s not just heat. It’s grounding. It’s rooting.
I wrap my legs around him, fingers digging into his shoulders, and let go.
Of the fear.
Of the what-ifs.
Of the ticking clock outside these walls.
Now, there’s just this.
This man.
This moment.
This impossible, stubborn love blooming in the cracks of our broken worlds.
We move together in a rhythm that feels… right.
Like waves hitting a shore that’s been waiting for them.
Like a landslide finally settling.
