Hope. Fear. Fierce protectiveness that mirrors mine.
I pull her against me. Hard. My arms band around her and she fits exactly right, head tucked under my chin, her curves pressed to muscle that trembles with the force of what I'm feeling.
Mine. Ours. Maybe.
"We need a bigger cave." The words scrape out rough.
Lila laughs against my chest. The sound vibrates through our bond, joy mixing with uncertainty. "You're already planning real estate?"
"Practical concerns." I force my arms to loosen enough that I can look at her. "If you're pregnant, we'll need space. Protection. Somewhere we can raise a child who might shift between forms."
"If I'm pregnant." She emphasizes the uncertainty. "I won't know for certain until?—"
I kiss her. Cut off the scientific qualification with my mouth on hers, claiming and possessive and full of everything I can't articulate. She kisses back with equal force, her hands fisting in my hair, her body arching into mine.
When we finally break apart, we're both breathing hard.
"Inside." My voice comes out graveled. "Now."
Her pupils dilate. Heat floods the bond. "Demanding."
"Always." I step back, putting distance between us before I take her right here on the cliffs. "And you're possibly pregnant with our child. I'm not rutting you on cold stone."
"Romantic."
"Practical." I catch her hand, lace our fingers together. "Cave has a bed. Better location."
The walk back is torture. Every step grinds my cock against denim that's suddenly too tight. The urge to shift burns through me—to fly us both there in seconds, to get her somewhere private where I can have what's mine.
But Lila's still building endurance in her dragon form. The transformation still demands energy she's learning to budget. And pregnancy is already making demands on her body.
So I walk. And burn. And let anticipation build until it's a physical ache in my chest.
The cave entrance looms ahead. Dark stone framing darker interior, the pathway worn smooth by centuries of my passage. The scent of salt water and minerals wraps around us as we descend into dimness that gives way to the bioluminescent algae glow.
Home.
Lila's already stripping out of her clothes with efficient movements. No seduction in it. Just need cutting through pretense.
I match her. Boots. Shirt. Jeans. Everything hitting stone until we're both naked in the blue-green glow.
She's magnificent—hair loose around her shoulders, skin pale in the algae light. Her breasts are fuller now, nipples darker pink, and I file that detail away as evidence. The curve of her waist, the flare of her hips, the slick evidence of arousal already glistening between her thighs.
All mine.
I move. Cross the space between us in two strides and pull her against me. Skin to skin. Her gasp vibrates through our bond.
"Finn—"
"Mine." My mouth finds her throat. The claiming mark is healed but the memory stays. "My mate. My dragon."
Her hands grip my shoulders. Nails biting in. "Yes."
She is not fragile. Not weak. She's dragon.
But she might be carrying our child and I will be careful even as every instinct screams to claim and mark and possess.
I kiss her. Slow and deep and thorough. Tasting every inch of her mouth. Learning the sounds she makes when I touch her right. Her hands in my hair, pulling, demanding more.
