His skin burned beneath her palms, dragon fire simmering just below the surface. She felt the beast in him straining against his control—not to hurt, but to claim. To mark. To make her irrevocably his.
Not yet, she sensed his dragon rumbling. But soon. Soon she will wear our mark.
“You’re—” He groaned, hips driving harder. “Cassia, you’re?—”
“Too much?” The old fear crept in despite herself.
His eyes met hers, burning with something that looked like devotion. “You’re not too much, Cassia.” The words came out rough, certain. “You’re exactly right. Everything about you—exactly right.”
She pulled him down into a kiss that was more desperate than artful, pouring everything she felt into it—the fear, the hope, the terrifying certainty that she would never be the same after tonight.
Her climax built like a storm on the horizon. Slow, inevitable, gathering force with every stroke. She felt it in her magic—power coiling, rising, seeking release.
“Let go,” Aero murmured against her throat. “I’ve got you. Let go.”
She shattered.
The orgasm crashed through her like lightning—bright, electric, consuming. Her inner walls clenched around him, pulling him deeper, and she cried out his name as waves of pleasure radiated through every nerve. Outside, thunder rumbled in answer, but the cabin remained untouched. The storm didn’t rage. It celebrated.
“Fuck—” Aero’s rhythm stuttered, his whole body going taut above her. “Cassia, I’m?—”
“Yes,” she breathed, pulling him down for a desperate kiss. “Come for me.”
He buried himself to the hilt and let go with a groan that vibrated through both of them. She felt him pulse inside her, hot and thick, felt his dragon roar its triumph beneath his skin—primal satisfaction, ancient and possessive. But he didn’t claim her. Didn’t let the fire rise to his palms and mark her as his.
When he collapsed beside her, gathering her against his chest, she understood why.
“Not tonight.” The words came out barely above a whisper.
He pressed a kiss to her temple. “Not tonight. When I mark you, it will be with the promise of a future. Not the fear of loss.”
“Romantic.” She traced lazy patterns on his chest, feeling his heartbeat gradually slow. “Who knew dragons could be romantic?”
“I’ve been practicing.”
“The flashcards?”
“Delos added a section on post-coital conversation. He was very thorough.”
Cassia laughed—a real laugh, easy and warm, nothing like the tight control she usually kept on her emotions. “I’m going to need to see these flashcards.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Why not?”
“Because they’re embarrassing. And some of them are… specific. To our situation.” A pause. “He may have titled one ‘Things to Say When Your Mate Is a Weather Witch.’”
“Now I definitely need to see them.”
“Absolutely not.”
She propped herself up on one elbow, looking down at him. In the moonlight filtering through the window, he looked younger. Less guarded. The perpetual tension in his shoulders had eased, and his eyes held warmth instead of wariness.
“You’re different like this.” The words came out soft. “Relaxed. Almost human.”
“You’re one to talk.” His hand came up to trace the curve of her cheek. “Your magic is quiet. I’ve never felt you this calm.”
He was right. The constant hum of power beneath her skin—the restless energy that had been spiraling out of control since the surge started—had settled into something manageable. Grounded. Like she’d finally found the anchor she’d been searching for.
