Page 46 of Ash and Burn

Arvid, I love you.

Her breath hitched. Telepathy. From the completed mate bond. Her scientist's brain, usually a whirl of data and hypotheses, stuttered for a second before delight took over. Then she focused, aiming her thought back along that brilliant, new connection.

Calix, I love you.

He smiled against her lips. He'd actually heard her.

"Yes, I heard you," he murmured.

"I heard you too," she said softly. She traced the edges of the dragon on her chest. "You're literally on my heart now."

"Exactly where I belong," he said softly.

She kissed him again, a seal on their promise. In the warm, healing waters of the Vess Springs, with his mate mark forever on her skin and his voice now a permanent whisper in her mind, Arvid knew a profound and thrilling truth.

This wasn't an ending. It was the spectacular, terrifying, glorious beginning of everything.

EIGHTEEN

CALIX

The world had realigned on a new axis now that their mate bond was completed. That realization flooded through Calix as his fingers fastened the final button of his white shirt while he stood beside the steaming spring. The air itself felt different—sharper, richer, charged with a hum that resonated in the marrow of his bones. His dragon, a constant presence of coiled power and restless instinct, lay quiet within him for the first time in decades. Not absent, but utterly, profoundly content.

Calix pulled on his black slacks, his eyes never leaving Arvid as she dressed a few feet away. She shrugged into her own white blouse, the fabric whispering against her skin, and she began to fasten the buttons, starting from the bottom. The sight of his mate mark—the intricate, scarlet dragon etched over her heart—peeked through the gap, and a primal, possessive satisfaction roared through him.

She is finally mine.

The blouse slowly obscured the mark, button by button, and he felt a surge of protectiveness and pride. She was his, and the bond was complete—a golden tether of power and emotion that made him feel whole. Not just a king, not just a survivor, but a man complete, wholly alive, and ready to conquer anything. He finally had his mate, his equal, his future queen standing right beside him, and the universe had never felt so right.

She glanced up, catching him staring. A slow, knowing smile curved her lips. "You're staring again."

"I can't help it. You're beautiful. You're magnificent. Everything I never let myself believe I could have."

Arvid finished zipping up her skirt and tugged on her boots. Then she walked over, closing the distance, and poked a finger against his chest. "Well, get used to the view. Because I'm not going anywhere."

His hand shot out, capturing hers and pressing it flat over the place where his heart beat a frantic, grateful rhythm beneath her palm. He'd waited his entire life to hear someone say those words and mean them.

He brought her knuckles to his lips, his gaze holding hers. "I'm holding you to that promise."

The walk back to the Hearthring district unfolded beneath the same volcanic skies and along the same familiar paths, but the world itself seemed subtly altered now that Arvid's hand rested in his and the completed mate bond hummed steadily between them. Yet they knew the contaminated flameroot fields were a deliberate act of sabotage and the urgency was a sharp blade in his gut. Finding a treatment was paramount, but so was finding the traitor.

Who would poison his people?

The question turned over in his mind, each rotation honing his anger. The timing of the rogue attack on Arvid and Tal felt less like a coincidence and more like a piece of the same ugly puzzle.

As they moved through the bustling district, he saw the glances in their direction. People noticed their king holding a woman's hand, their bodies angled toward each other with an intimacy that spoke volumes. To any dragon shifter with half a sense of smell, the truth was crystal clear. King Calix and Dr. Arvid Jasper were mated—their scents now interwoven and inseparable.

Some faces broke into knowing smiles while others stared in momentary surprise before dawning comprehension settled in. This was their future queen. Their king had not just taken a lover; he had claimed his mate, and soon she would stand beside him as Queen of Ashvorn. Calix met the looks with a steady, unflinching gaze. Let them see. Let them know. A formal announcement could wait. Right now, they had a disease to dismantle and a conspirator to unmask.

When they finally entered the medical laboratory, the sterile scent of antiseptic and herbs did nothing to dampen the warmth radiating from his core. Dorn immediately looked up from a cluttered workstation, the healer's tired eyes flicking from Calix to Arvid, and a profound understanding passed through his expression. He didn't smile, but the lines around his eyes softened, and he gave a deliberate nod.

Genuine approval of the king's mate.

Calix felt a surge of fierce gratitude. Dorn saw her worth—knew she was a brilliant, compassionate woman fighting for Ashvorn's people. And soon, the rest of Ashvorn would see that there had never been anyone more worthy to stand by his side and protect the kingdom with him.

Dorn cleared his throat. "We've isolated compounds from the contaminated flameroot tea and cross-referenced them with blood samples from the infected. The results are… illuminating."

Arvid was already moving. "Show me."