There are things I will never tell her. Not because I’m ashamed of them, but because she doesn’t need to carry the weight of them. The rage and desolation of my dragon burning the world away around me after the last spark of life had left my son. Or that in trying to save my son, the hunters had already butchered Ava for parts by the time I thought to retrieve her.
As dragons, our bodies are heavy with magic. Magic that practitioners of all kinds can wield. It took hundreds of years to track down each piece of her until I could finally lay her body to rest with the remains of our son.
But I told her the important things. And somehow, and as with many things she does, letting Katarina grieve for me brings me calm.
My chest expands with my inhale. “Now, it’s time I fed you.”
Katarina wipes away her tears, and I guide her to the table, sliding into the bench and pulling her to sit on top of me. It feels natural to hold her like this after all the times we’ve spent in contact to exchange heat.
I scoop a bite of food up with the fork and hold it in front of her mouth, half expecting her to take the fork from me and tell me she can feed herself, but she doesn’t. She gives me an exasperated look, but lets me feed her the bite. My dragon purrs under my skin, and I can’t help but to agree with the sentiment.
This small action settles both me and the beast. It’s a small echo of pulling the choice organ meats from a kill and presenting them to a mate.
Rina hums in enjoyment. “This is so good.”
“I thought you may enjoy it.” It’s only strips of steak pan-fried with spices that will satisfy our daughter’s tastes, but Rina’s whole body softens in pleasure like it’s some exquisite dish.
Her eyes are still a little watery from sadness. “Thank you, Kalos. For the food… and for telling me.”
I tighten my hold on her. There are other things that she should know.
“My dragon has mated with you,” I say, not knowing how else to tell her. Tonight is one for revelations after all.
I didn’t plan on sharing that fact with her, but now with Gage putting ideas in my head of consulting a magic practitioner, I have… hope. And in that emotion, it feels wrong to keep hiding this from her.
Rina’s brows crease, so I explain. “That night when we made our agreement. He mated you. That’s how you were able to get pregnant.”
“What does it mean that your dragon has mated me?” she asks, not debating that the dragon and I are separate.
I try to shrug. “I don’t know. It shouldn’t have been possible.”
Silence falls after I feed her another bite. It chafes, not being able to offer more information, but even the dragons who became scholars wouldn’t be able to answer this conundrum. Dragons aren’t separate beings. One part of our soul doesn’t mate without the other.
“And you don’t feel the same?” The words are a question, but she doesn’t say them like one. She says them like she expects my answer and will understand, but is saddened.
The regret catches in my throat. “I’m sorry, but no. There isn’t a mate bond between the two of us. That part of me broke when Ava fell.”
She nods.
I wish there was. I wish that I could feel her presence alive in me the way a mate is supposed to. To sense her humor or fury.
I want Katarina as a mate even though I’ve told myself it’s impossible.
Her snack is coming to an end, and soon we’ll go back to bed, and I’ll lose this quiet moment with her. The impending loss makes me reckless.
“Will you stay?” I ask, before letting myself dither mentally about it.
Katarina frowns. “Stay?”
“After our daughter is born.” I swallow. “Will you stay here? With Maggie, Ben, and me.”
“Do you want me to?”
You bring me peace that I don’t understand, I think but don’t say. “I enjoy your presence. I like you.”
The words are so bland in comparison to the depth of her effect on me, but it’s what I can vocalize. She makes me want to take risks.
Rina’s eyes soften in thought. “Do you think we could one day have something deeper than we do now without a bond?”
I want to lie, to make promises, but I refuse to be another person to give Rina false hope. “I don’t know. You’ll continue to age without a mate bond, eventually dying.”
She tilts her head. “I’m tempted to tease you for your reluctance to just enjoy the time we’d have together like humans do, but I suppose when one loses the people they love it’s hard to be that vulnerable again.”
“It destroys the soul.” Or at least it destroyed mine. I hesitate but continue, “There may be a solution to that issue, but it requires more investigation.”
“It’s not something you want to risk without a guarantee.” She’s beginning to understand. There are dozens of arguments against keeping what is between us casual, but she only places a hand on my heart. I can taste her sorrow, and it makes me want to snarl, vanquish the one who caused it, but it’s my fault.
“Can I think about it?” she asks.
“Of course,” I say, because there’s nothing else to say. Some part of her must want to stay even without the option of something growing between us. A part that I can court and coax, draw out while I try to find a way to keep this witch that won’t destroy me.
She’s quiet as we head back to bed, and I pull her past her door.
“My room,” I say to the questioning look that she shoots me.
“But—”
“Griffin will find us,” I say, as if that would be her only objection to her staying in my space. The whole house is my territory, but my bedroom is my inner sanctum. I need her scent there after the memories I’ve fought with tonight.
I need her there, even if she chooses to leave me eventually.
I don’t know what she must sense from my words in the dark, but she squeezes my hand.
“Alright.” The word is simple, but it rings with something new. Perhaps she knows how much I want her now. Maybe she’ll let herself believe we have a future.
And maybe her bravery will help me believe the same.
29
KATARINA
KALOS SLEEPS, his face peaceful in the morning light. He’s usually up and busy by now, but he’s passed out like he’s exhausted, and maybe he is. Fighting demons, even ones that only exist in past memories, is not an easy feat.
I can read between the lines. I know what happened to those hunters. Good. I hope the crunch of their bones gave Kalos some measure of satisfaction, but I don’t think it did.
My fingers itch to trace over his textured horns, but I resist, not wanting to wake him.
He asked me to stay.
He wants me in his life, has even been thinking about ways to extend my life, if that’s what he meant last night.
It’s so far away from our first dinner together that it should be comical, but it’s not. He has wounds he needs to work through, but he wants to work through them. Why else would he bring me to sleep in his room?
The space is gorgeous. I can practically feel the wealth cradling me. The luxury fabrics of the giant bed under us and the décor are one thing, but the crown jewel of the room is the ceiling. Or rather, the lack of one.