But not yet. For one more moment, the world could wait.
Cassia settled against Aero’s chest, listening to the slow beat of his heart, feeling the warmth of his skin against hers. Whatever came next—whatever horrors the day would bring—she would face them knowing this:
She was loved. Not in spite of being too much, but because of it.
For a woman who’d spent her whole life being told to be less, to contain herself, to make herself smaller—that was worth more than she had words to express.
And that was worth fighting for.
FORTY
AERO
Aero woke to warmth—Cassia’s weight against his side, her hand resting over his heart like she’d been keeping watch while he slept.
His dragon rumbled contentment.
He let himself look at her—really look. The curve of her shoulder where he’d left a mark the night before. In sleep, she looked peaceful. Softer than she ever allowed herself to appear when awake. The constant crackle of energy that surrounded her had gentled into something quiet, her magic at rest for once.
He pressed a kiss to her temple, breathing her in. She smelled like him—smoke and storm woven through her natural scent. The primal part of him preened at the evidence of their night. The rational part knew they didn’t have time for this.
“Stop thinking so loud.” Cassia’s voice was sleep-rough, muffled against his chest. “I can feel you analyzing.”
“I wasn’t?—”
“You were.” She tipped her head back to look at him, sea-glass eyes still hazy. Her curls were a disaster, tangled and wild, and she’d never looked more beautiful. “It’s too early for analysis. Come back to bed.”
“We’re in bed.”
“Then come back to sleep.” She pulled him down for a kiss—slow and sweet, nothing like the desperate heat of the night before. Just… warmth. Comfort. The casual intimacy of two people who’d learned each other’s bodies and found them good.
Then he felt it.
A shift in the atmosphere. A pressure building at the edge of his senses, vast and dark and wrong. His dragon snapped to alertness, scales prickling beneath his skin.
Cassia went rigid in his arms. “You feel that?”
“Yes.”
They dressed in silence, the easy intimacy of moments ago shattered by the weight of what was coming.
At the cabin door, she turned to face him. “Ready?”
He cupped her face in his hands, memorizing the curve of her cheekbones, the storm in her eyes. Last night had felt like a beginning. This morning felt dangerously like an ending.
“Whatever happens—” he started.
“Don’t.” She pressed a finger to his lips. “Don’t say goodbye. We’re not doing that.”
“I wasn’t?—”
“You were. I could see it in your face.” She replaced her finger with her mouth, kissing him hard enough to steal his breath. “We survive this. We stop Nerissa. And then we have the rest of our lives to figure out what comes next. That’s the plan.”
“That’s not much of a plan.”
“It’s the only one I’ve got.” She grabbed his hand, lacing their fingers. “Now move your ancient ass. We have a tsunami to stop.”
The harbor was controlled chaos.
