“You need to sleep.”
She startled, blinking. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not.” He moved to stand beside her, close enough that their shoulders brushed. “You’ve been running on adrenaline and determination for eighteen hours. Your body needs rest.”
“I can’t sleep.” She rubbed her eyes. “Every time I close my eyes, I see Delos going down. The water construct hitting him. The blood.” A shudder ran through her. “How am I supposed to sleep when I keep reliving it?”
Aero didn’t have an answer to that. He’d been asking himself the same question all night.
“Come here.” The words emerged rough, raw.
He guided her to the sitting area of Avine’s suite—a comfortable arrangement of couches and chairs that had probably hosted countless friend gatherings under happier circumstances. The others had left, giving them privacy.
Aero settled onto one of the larger couches, then pulled Cassia down beside him.
“What are you?—”
“Just rest.” He positioned her against his side, her head finding the hollow of his shoulder. “You don’t have to sleep. Just… rest.”
She tensed for a moment, then slowly relaxed into him. Her body was warm against his, fitting into the space beside him like she’d been designed for it.
“This is very domestic,” Cassia murmured against his chest. “Cuddling on a couch while the world prepares to end.”
“The world isn’t ending.” His arm tightened around her. “We won’t let it.”
“Such confidence.” Her voice was growing fuzzy at the edges, exhaustion winning at last. “What if we can’t stop her?”
“Then we’ll go down fighting.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head—a gesture so natural, it didn’t register as unusual. “But we won’t fail. You and I, with our magic combined—we’re strong enough to stop a tsunami. I believe that.”
“You believe things now?” She yawned. “That’s new.”
“Many things are new.” He watched the dark windows, the stars dim through the light pollution of the town. “A week ago, I would have told you that dragon mate recognition was a statistical anomaly. That emotional vulnerability was a weakness I’d long since evolved beyond.”
“And now?”
“Now I’m sitting on a couch in the dead of night holding a woman I would burn down the world for, and counting the hours until I can fight at her side.” His tone gentled. “Everything I thought I knew about myself was wrong. Everything I thought I wanted was a lie I told myself to avoid the terror of actually wanting something.”
“That’s very philosophical for this hour.”
“Dragons are philosophical creatures. We have a lot of time to think.”
Her breathing was slowing, growing deeper. The tension drained from her muscles by degrees. “Aero?”
“Hmm?”
“I’m glad your dragon picked me.” The words were muffled against his shirt. “Even if it means fighting a crazy siren and possibly dying in the process.”
“We’re not going to die.”
“Promise?”
He hesitated. Promises weren’t something he made lightly—not with his lifespan, not with his history. But looking down at the woman falling asleep against his chest, the woman his dragon had claimed with an intensity that terrified him, he found he couldn’t refuse.
“Promise.”
She smiled, already more asleep than awake. “Good. Because I have plans for you, dragon. Plans that involve significantly less clothing and significantly more of that warmth you generate.”
His body reacted to the words even as his mind registered that she probably wouldn’t remember saying them in the morning. “Sleep now. Plans later.”
