Rune leaned closer, her breath catching. “Drecken…this is actually kind of beautiful.”
I stared at her instead of the blood and magic.
“Not more than you,” I murmured.
Her cheeks flushed. “You’re cheesy.”
“Perhaps love makes one cheesy,” I mused.
“Perhaps.” Rune nudged my shoulder. “So, what does this mean? That hybrids can exist?”
“It means that the Fates are not as rigid as we always believed,” I replied, glancing back at the blood for a moment before turning back to her. “And that means that the world is changing faster than any of us can explain.”
She smiled at me, but I felt her exhaustion through the bond. “Thanks. I needed this tonight.”
“One way to forget a mess of problems is to find another to distract yourself with,” I told her, making her giggle and lean into me.
“Oh, what a healthy way to cope,” she teased.
My magic bloomed around us as I teleported us to my bed with her wrapped in my arms. “I may not know a healthy way to cope, but I know you need rest, viperling.”
“I love you, Drecken,” she mumbled before sleep took her a moment later.
“I love you, Rune.”
The news of hybrids being possible shattered many foundations of magic and science alike. While I planned to explore this fully, right now, my fated mate needed me more.
rune
. . .
There wassomething about Drecken’s family estate that truly felt like home.
The Grimsworn Estate was perched on the edge of a cliff in Cursinia, built into the mountain itself. The protection wards buzzing around it made it feel safer than anywhere else in Kalista.
Inside, everything smelled of ancient magic, old tomes, and potions brewing. It warmed my heart because it smelled of Drecken and what I imagined his parents had smelled like.
Even though I’d never met his parents, I almost felt as if I knew them. Maybe it was because of the painting of the two of them smiling above the mantelpiece in the living room.
His mother was gorgeous, caught mid-laugh in a simple but elegant dress. Her long blonde hair was twisted up in a pretty updo, and her blue eyes, exactly the same shade as Drecken’s, shone bright with mischief.
His father stood behind her, green hair slicked back neatly, one hand resting on her shoulder. Their matebond was practically painted into the canvas.
Or maybe I felt that way because they’d written me a letter before they’d passed on, leaving their son to me.
Every time I looked at that portrait, it just felt right to be here.
“I’m making chicken carbonara,” Jesper answered for the third time that evening, sounding dangerously close to snapping.
“It sounds delicious, but is it ever going to be done?” Slater whined, dragging a hand through his wild red hair as if dinner was personally offending him by not existing yet.
“It’ll be done when you stop bothering me,” Jesper huffed.
I walked over to the stove and took over stirring the sauce while he drained the pasta.
With Jesper here, the kitchen was warmer somehow. It was lit by fae lights and the soft glow of the light runes etched into the counters.
Zuko came up behind me, arms wrapping around my waist. He slipped his hand under my shirt, palm flattening against my stomach.
