18
RONYN
Aura is glowing in a way that is more than magic. The light catches in her hair now that it’s clean and brushed, a mixture of chocolate, red, and gold that’s rich and glossy instead of survival-dull, or how her skin has color again, warmth returned where hunger once hollowed her out. Her glow thrums beneath her flesh, braided through her like an internal sun.
She moves through the penthouse like she’s testing gravity, half-assuming it will fail her. She’s anticipating the worst under the cover of appreciating everything that’s good around her.
I lean against the dressing room doorway and watch her lift a silk dress from its hanger, holding it up to herself with a little laugh of disbelief. The sound hits me square in the chest. She doesn’t laugh often, so when she does, it catches me off guard.
“Ronyn,” she says, glancing over her shoulder, eyes luminous. “This one has pockets.”
Kelan hums his approval, arms folded as he observes her like a strategist assessing his most complex project. The alpha in him is pleased. The dragon in him is hoarding every second.
Aura disappears back into the dressing room and re-emerges moments later, the dress skimming her body like it was made for her. My dragon stirs, scales itching below my skin. Possessive. Proud. Desperate to claim her again.
“Turn around,” Darial says, already grinning.
She does, hands clasped behind her back. “Well?”
The dress rests low in the back, revealing all our swirling runes marked into her skin.
I push off the wall and cross the room before I can stop myself. When I stand in front of her, Aura tilts her head up, watching my face with that quiet attentiveness she has when she’s gauging the truth.
“This dress was made for you,” I say. “It is perfection, and still, you're worthy of more.
She smiles, turning to stare at herself in the mirror. I wish I knew what she was thinking. Is she happy with the changes to her life, or is it strange to see herself wearing clothes and marks that are new and unfamiliar? Her smile falters, but I don’t think it’s the dress or the way she looks. She has many lingering traumas I wish I could erase. They coalesce into a despair that rests behind the mask of her happiness.
It’s faint, and Kelan and Darial don’t seem to have noticed, but I feel it like a hairline fracture.
***
The rest of the afternoon passes in a strange blur as we learn more about each other. She is our mate, and our love and devotion to her is without question, but discovering her habits and mannerisms is fascinating. She explores theapartment, marvels at the view, and tries on shoes she doesn’t quite know how to walk in yet. She lets Darial tease her into smiling, and Kelan explains our business and our homes, encouraging her to become rooted in a life she never imagined she’d be part of. She opens the fridge and stares at the food, shaking her head. Then she decides she wants to make pancakes with blueberries and strips of streaky bacon.
She eats with appetite and delight, her lips sticky with maple syrup and fingers greasy with bacon. Then, when her plate is empty, she lets me refill it.
She needs all the nutrition she can get.
She jokes about learning how to “be fancy,” but every now and then, when she thinks no one is looking, her hand drifts to her throat. Or she stills, her eyes going distant, like her mind has slipped backward into darker woods. Trauma doesn’t vanish when safety surrounds you. It waits in the shadows, whispering for you to remember that fear is your only protection.
I catch Kelan’s eye across the room and incline my head slightly. He follows my gaze to Aura, who is currently perched on a stool, reading a book she’s taken from the shelf.
“She’s trying,” he says quietly.
“I know,” I reply. “That’s what worries me.”
Darial joins us, expression uncharacteristically subdued. “We can’t keep her wrapped in velvet and hope the past forgets her.”
“No,” Kelan agrees. “But we can show her more of what her future looks like.”
That’s when it clicks.
“We can’t keep her here… we can’t be like her wolf captor or the group home she was forced to live in.” I glance back at Aura. “Let’s take her out. Show her the world at her fingertips.”
Darial’s grin returns instantly. “Oh, I like the way you think.”
Kelan raises a brow. “Where?”
“One of our restaurants,” I say. “Somewhere we’re confident will treat her like royalty.”
