His hands roamed my body, revisiting curves he now knew as well as his own. I arched against him, my body responding instantly to his touch. Months together had only deepened our desire, our intimacy a perfect blend of human passion and reptilian instinct.
“Make love to me,” I whispered against his lips.
Rygnar's golden eyes darkened with desire as we moved to our bed and began deliberately removing our clothes. As we lay together on the bed, his movements were fluid and confident. He knew all the ways to please me.
After he spent some time caressing my breasts and suckling my nipples, I needed little foreplay before urging him to put his cock inside me. He entered me slowly, his ridged anatomy stretching me deliciously as I welcomed him with a soft moan.
Our coupling was a familiar dance yet always fresh with discovery. Rygnar's hips rolled in a rhythm that was both alien and intoxicating, each thrust building my pleasure instinctively. His tail wrapped around my thigh, holding me close as our pace quickened.
I pressed my fingers into his back as my orgasm built, coiling tight in my belly. “Rygnar,” I gasped, “I am there!”
As I cried out my release, Rygnar followed me over the edge with a guttural cry. His body shuddered against mine as he found completion, too. The familiar swelling began at the base of his shaft, locking us together in intimate union.
I sighed contentedly, relishing this moment I had grown to cherish—the knotting that kept us joined even after our pleasure had crested. “I love this part,” I murmured, my fingers tracing patterns on his back. “Being tied to you like this… it keeps us close.”
Rygnar rumbled in agreement, his weight a comforting pressure. “My body's way of claiming you even after release.Of ensuring my mate remains where she belongs—safe beneath me.”
We lay tangled together, our breathing slowly returning to normal as his knot gradually diminished. I pressed soft kisses to his scaled chest, my heart overflowing with love for this alien who had become my entire world.
“And I remain always,” he murmured in his native tongue, though I understood the meaning perfectly. I smiled, pressing a kiss to his scaled chest. It was finally time to admit that I intended to remain, too.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I said softly.
His fingers tightened slightly, even in sleep.
“Good,” he murmured.
And for the first time since the mountain shook, I believed it.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Protector’s Mercy
Rygnar
Two weeks after the raid, the sky above the basin filled with a low, mechanical hum that didn’t belong to any storm.
People spilled onto the terraces, shading their eyes. The sound grew until it shivered the air—a pulse-engine, steady and deliberate. A small dropship broke through the clouds, sleek and silver-gray, bearing the mark I hadn’t seen since the war: the insignia of theCyborg Command.
Veklan joined me on the upper ledge. “You expected this?”
“I hoped,” I said. “Raven Blackwood doesn’t wait for reports—he follows the smoke.”
Veklan’s mouth curved, more amused than worried. “Then let’s hope his mercy is louder than his engines.”
The ship settled on the plateau beyond the terraces. The wind of its descent whipped the snow into spirals. When the hatch opened, a tall figure stepped out—matte black armor that fit him like a glove, dark hair close-cropped on the sides and a bit longer on top, and the unmistakable precision of a soldier made for battle.
Raven Blackwood.
He removed his helmet as he approached, eyes sweeping over the assembled Mesaarkans and humans with the calm intensity of someone counting lives rather than heads. “So,” he said, his voice carrying easily. “The mountain lives up to its reputation.”
Veklan inclined his head. “We defend our own.”
Raven’s gaze shifted to me. “And your healer?”
I stepped forward. “I was never much for titles.”
He smiled faintly. “You’ve done what we couldn’t. Held this place without command, without Federation oversight, without killing each other.”
