The runes flash and Bastian’s magic fills them up. A line of power shoots from the circle toward the front door. I can’t see it because of the short hall, but glittering gold sparks fly from it like snowflakes in a gale. The magic fades not long after, and Bastian stands.
He walks down the hall and into the stairs, then closes the door behind him. We stand in darkness for a moment as he brings histhumb to his mouth. He spears himself with his sharp canine until his dark blood wells to the surface.
“What are you doing?” I whisper.
“So impatient,” he murmurs as he marks the door frame with his blood.
He smears more blood on the door handle and turns it to the right before looking down at me. “Right is our apartment,” he says as he pushes open the door.
There’s the colorful runner leading to the combination shoe and coat rack at the end of the short hall. He closes the door.
“And this way”—he looks down at me with a broad grin brimming with excitement as he turns the handle to the left—“leads to our nest.”
forty-seven
The Nest
The door opens to a wall of roses. Velvety red, bright pink, and soft white cascade down before us like a perfumed curtain. Between the green leaves and stems, I see the sandstone I remember from the pool long ago.
Bastian steps forward and uses his wings to part the hanging flowers, revealing the nest in all its beauty. One large room lit well with blazing sconces. A glass dome covers the once-open skylight above the natural pool at the center. Around the edges are piles of plush blankets, pillows, and cushions arranged like forts. Between them are shelves of books, trinkets, and more roses.
He sets me down at the edge of the water and my eyes continue to wander. The runic designs on the wall have been filled with gold, making them glimmer in the flickering torchlight. There’s a window opposite us that reveals a dark, moonlit body of water that seemsto go on forever. Another window beside a shelf to the left shows a towering, snowcapped mountain.
“Bast,” I breathe. “It’s beautiful.”
“A dragon must have a good nest before taking a mate, it’s important.”
Nests are for…
No, I shouldn’t jump to conclusions.
I turn to him. “What do you mean by mate? You’ve said that before, and so did Apollo. What is it?”
He pulls in a deep breath and begins to pace. I let the silence pass between us as he moves, waiting for him to find the words to go on.
“I’m soulbound to the book. As long as it lives, I live.”
“Right…”
He turns to me, his hands rising on either side without touching me. His fingers tremble just above my skin and he looks at me like I might disappear.
“Tell me,” I whisper as I step into his touch.
He wraps his arms around me and sighs.
“When I take my mate,youbecome the center of my hoard, the center of my existence. I tie myself to you forever in all ways. We become inseparable, and I will die without you.”
My throat seals up and my mouth goes dry.
He pulls back and looks down at me.
“I want this. What do you want?”
What doIwant?
Images of a future that never came to pass flash before me. A painful scrapbook of marrying Jeremy, having kids, getting thehouse, going on vacations, and growing old flip over and over through my mind’s eye. Then the knife drives between us. A little piece of paper with just a few words and a couple of numbers.
“I might not be able to have children,” I blurt.
