Overwhelming emotion choked me, stealing my voice. My head and my heart felt light. Words were not enough to describe the sight or the feeling of the deep hues of blue-and-black flames encasing us in their midst. Are the flames real?
“No one can see them but us,” he said. They’re ours alone.
I knew what this was. It’s our mate bond.
He pulled his head back, his onyx eyes as wild as I’d ever seen them. They glowed so much that I lost myself in the depths of those inky pools. This Drae was my mate. More than a friend or a lover. More than a companion or partner. He was made to compliment me. He was created for me.
In a voice rough with emotion, he said, “You accept me?”
I lifted both hands to cup his face and stared at him in awe. “How could you be in doubt?” I kissed him, just brushing my lips to his. “After what just happened, how could you not know?” I kissed him again as I spoke through our bond. I accept you as my mate, Tyrrik.
He pulled back and studied me, his gaze penetrating me to my core. He brought his hands up to mimic my position. I didn’t doubt; I just did not wish to hope.
I felt his love pulse through the bond, warm honey and the soft caress of night. He brushed his thumbs over my cheeks and repeated, “You are my mate.”
I am your mate, I agreed.
He touched his lips to my forehead. One hundred and nine years, and I have found you. You are mine.
Our mouths met with a clash of teeth. His hands dropped to my shoulders while I placed one on the nape of his neck and threaded the other through his black hair. I moaned loudly into his mouth as his lips coaxed mine apart. His tongue stroked mine, and I pressed tighter to him, not wanting to ever stop the thrill of his touch.
A growl rumbled in his chest, a menacing threat to all but me, as he declared me his. One of his hands trailed down my back, settling around my waist.
And then, Tyrrik reached up and untangled my arms from around his head and neck. He brought both hands in front of his mouth and kissed the back of each, his gaze not moving from mine.
“Ryn, I love you more than life itself.”
I shouldn’t have been embarrassed. I’d just accepted him as my mate, but my cheeks warmed at the strength of his declaration of love because I’d just witnessed the truth of his words. I ducked and mumbled, “I was so scared, Tyrrik.”
My admission broke his heart. I felt it and gained a better understanding of my mate. He didn’t want me to be scared. He’d eagerly take any pain to rid me of that fear. As I studied his sentiment, I grasped a better understanding of the balance of female and male Drae.
Tyrrik’s instinct was to protect what he loved. He would destroy, maim, kill, or do whatever he needed to get rid of bad things. He also wanted to provide, food, clothing, a bath . . . I closed my eyes as I thought of all he’d done to take care of me. Almost all of it, protecting and providing, through physical means. That was his strength.
But sometimes solutions required feelings, intuition, caring. Nurturing was necessary for growth, to cultivate relationships and alliances. Nurturing was fostering growth, developing bonds and strengthening them. And that power was just as important as physical might and prowess. And in the instances when violence was the only way, I literally strengthened him. I gave him the power to do what needed to be done. We weren’t the same, but we were equals. And that’s why we were stronger together.
I smiled at him, and he kissed my hands again.
You are exactly right, he said.
Maybe I should’ve sent you a top up sooner, I joked.
His gaze darkened, and his features grew troubled. “I hope you won’t have cause to do that frequently.”
I glanced back over my shoulder.
Druman remains littered the valley. Black ash and smoke floated high in the sky from the Druman unlucky enough to meet Tyrrik’s fire. Some of the rock across the valley had melted under the heat of his flame and was reforming in warped patches. A few scraggly trees still burned, but the fire was waning as it ran out of fuel.
Every single one of them was dead. And it so easily should’ve been us instead.
With a start, I remembered the Phaetyn.
Sitting on a rock to your left, Tyrrik supplied.
You knew she was there watching us?
I scowled at his mental shrug. Bloody Drae. I untangled myself from him enough to glance that way. The Phaetyn girl sat cross-legged on a flattened stone a small distance from where we’d been kissing. No, we’d been making out like it was going to be outlawed tomorrow. Nice first impression.
One glance was enough to tell me the trees hadn’t been lying. The Phaetyn girl looked a lot like Kamini, only older and fiercer. If the trees hadn’t told me this Phaetyn existed, I still would’ve known her to be the princess’s sister.
“I guess we need to go say hello,” I whispered to Tyrrik.
“If we want to win this war, then yes, we best go and greet her,” Tyrrik said, a smile in his voice.
I sighed, shouldering the responsibility I needed to take.
Tyrrik gently held my jaw and turned me back to face him. “You’re sure you want this, Ryn? To join this fight? We could go anywhere. Leave Draedyn’s Realm, go to another land.”
Another land but not one that contained people I cared about. Because even if it was just Tyrrik and Dyter, I’d stay and fight. But there were so many more. “I’m sure,” I said, glancing at the Phaetyn and then back at Tyrrik, who looked unaccountably sad. I brushed my hands through his liquid-black hair. “This is my fight, too, now. Which means we’ll see it through to the end.”
Together.