“So?”
“We killed the thing hunting us because we wanted to survive. Not to free anyone.”
“And yet they’re free anyway.” I pull my knees up, wrap my arms around them. “Does that bother you?”
“No.” His gaze holds mine across the fire. Pale eyes reflecting flame. “But it changes nothing. We’re not heroes. We’re survivors.”
“Good. I don’t want to be a hero. Heroes get killed doing stupid things.”
“Practical.” He reaches across the fire, catches my wrist, and pulls me toward him. I don’t resist—let him drag me around the flames until I’m pressed against his chest. His arms wrap around me, tight and possessive. “That’s why you’re alive.”
“And you?”
“I’m alive because I don’t let go of what matters.” His lips press against the mark at my shoulder, lingering.
Instead, heat floods through me that has nothing to do with the fire.
“What comes next?” I make myself say it. “The Arbiter was their enforcement arm. They’ll need a new one.”
“Let them build one.”
“You think they won’t?”
“Probably.”
“And you’re not worried?”
His hand cups my jaw, forcing my head back so he can look at me. His grip is firm—not painful, but absolute. Controlling.
“I spent centuries running. Hiding. Evading. Never strong enough to actually fight successfully.” His thumb presses against my lower lip. “I’m done running. Next time they send hunters after us, I’ll destroy them. And if the gods come themselves, I’ll destroy them too.”
“Because of the mating?”
“Because I’m done running.” No hesitation. No softening. “They send something after us, I destroy it. That’s the new arrangement.”
The possessiveness in his voice makes my pulse race. Makes heat pool low in my belly.
“I could leave.” I say it quietly. Testing. “Now that the immediate threat is gone. Go back to my life before.”
He goes still. His hands don’t loosen, but I feel tension flood through him. The dragon rising close to the surface.
“You could.” The words come out dangerous. “Is that what you want?”
I think about it. Really think. Independence versus this. Autonomy versus belonging to a dragon who will destroy worlds for me.
“No.” The word is certain. “I don’t want to leave.”
The tension doesn’t drain from him. If anything, it shifts into hunger. His hands slide up my back and grip hard, pulling me flush against him.
“Good answer.”
Not relief. Satisfaction. Like he knew what I’d say and was waiting to hear it.
His mouth crashes into mine.
I wake before dawn.
Tyr’s body curves around mine, radiating heat like always. My clothes are somewhere nearby—we never bothered putting them back on after the second time. Or the third. His arm is locked across my waist like he’s afraid I’ll disappear if he loosens his grip.
