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We were both grinning when his lips finally claimed mine.
The kiss was everything at once—reassurance, promise, the unspoken vows flowing between us. ‘Twas joyful and fierce and breathless, and despite everything we had just been through, I felt the spark of desire flicker to life between us. That Bond between us fed it, a living thing now acknowledged and reveling in its freedom.
Mayhap ‘twas just the Bond. Maybe ‘twas the fierce excitement of the last hour. It might even take me a while to become accustomed to the way it amplified such emotions. But in that moment, I didn’t care. All I wanted was to savor the warmth of him, the taste, the way his tusks met my cheeks as I deepened the kiss, the caress of his hands sliding down my back to pull me flush against him.
When Maardok at last broke the kiss, he was grinning like a fool, my heart still racing in time with his.
“I love ye,” he murmured, and I grinned in response.
Laughter rumbled through his chest, and he kissed me again, quick and sweet this time, before wrapping an arm around my shoulders and turning us both to face the warriors who were sorting out the bodies and grumbling about not being able to join the fight.
Vrogul stood a little apart from the others, leaning on his axe and watching as his men melted into the trees like the tide. He made no attempt to approach, mayhap understanding that this was a moment meant for us alone.
But he didn’t have to.
Maardok raised his voice, unrestrained pride in every word.
“Congratulate me, brother! My Mate has accepted the Bond and a future with me!”
Vrogul pushed off from where he leaned, shouldering his axe as he turned toward the village. But not before he called back, a smirk clear in his voice.
“So, we can forget this nonsense of my nephews being raised in the human world?”
My throat tightened.
Nephews.
His way of claiming Ewan, as well as Edan, the way he’d welcomed me as one of his clan that very first night.
Maardok’s arm around me tightened fractionally. He kept his gaze on his brother’s retreating form until the chief disappeared among the trees. Then he looked back at me, his expression softening.
“If ye want to take the lads back, Cataline,” his voice was quiet, so quiet I had to focus, “Ye know I’ll go with ye.”
I searched his face, passing over the scars I once thought made him monstrous, now realizing they made him beautiful to me. There could no longer be any doubt as to how I felt.
This was my home.
My Mate. My life.
“This is my home.” I said it firmly, and then added, “But there is one thing I want to do first.”
Maardok stilled, watching me.
“John mentioned Richard’s family.” My voice dropped, “I think…I think we should write to Ewan’s grandfather.”
Saying it aloud made the reality of it settle into my chest, so I took a deep breath.
“And tell him what happened to Richard.”
Maardok’s hold on me tightened even more, as if he were afraid I would change my mind. His thumb traced circles against my back.
“Are ye certain, dkaar?”
I nodded slowly. “I cannot imagine losing one of my sons, Maardok. I do not think I would wish to go on not knowing what happened.”
He hummed thoughtfully, then nodded. Almost conversationally, as if the question didn’t really matter, he asked, “And if he thinks Ewan would be better raised by him, in some fancy castle?”
My lips curled darkly.
