“I would prefer that.”
Rose approaches me, halting two steps away at the sound of disagreement from her mate’s throat. She rolls her eyes.
“Touching him will let me see everything, Gideon,” she says.
Gideon’s jaw clenches as I stiffen. I don’t want to be touched by another woman. She clocks my reaction.
“Just your hands if you will?”
I hesitate, and she shakes her head.
“The two of you, I swear.” Her eyes stare through my soul and seize me. “I vow never to reveal what we discuss. Please, relax. Your defensiveness can throw off my instincts.”
“It’s difficult,” I force out. “He and I aren’t really meant to be in the same room.”
“Oh?” Rose looks back at her mate, intrigued.
Gideon’s mouth twitches. “Magic from the earth meeting magic from the sea. It mostly feels uncomfortable.” His eyes lock with mine. “If you mean my mate no harm, none will come to you from me.”
Some of the tension tightening my shoulders eases.
Rose is still frowning at her mate. “But you’ve never had an issue with Gage.”
“Gage is quite young,” I say.
Gideon only nods in agreement. This modern world where paranormal creatures intermingle with one another can cause discomfort, but the part of me that enjoys innovation and change is thrilled by it. I mentally scoff at myself. Katarina and I are alike in that way.
With thoughts of the warm woman I left, I offer my hands to the matchmaker. This time, she takes them. Her grip is soft, comforting in the way sipping tea is, easing and medicinal all at once.
After a moment of Rose analyzing the space around me, probably seeing things that I can only sense, she gives my hands a squeeze.
“You’re quite a mess,” Rose says, not unkindly. “Your dragon has bonded to her, but you have not.”
The truth stings no matter how gently she says it.
“I know,” I say before clearing my throat. “I’ve been mated before. I know how it’s supposed to feel.” And no matter how being with Katarina makes my heart soar, it’s not the same thing.
Rose nods. “I can see your previous bonds, or rather, where they’ve been left to wither.”
The breath freezes in my lungs at the mention of my other bonds. Ava, Luke.
“Must they be severed if I wanted to mate again?” I don’t know if I can do that.
Rose shakes her head. “No, of course not. It’s more that you’ve closed off that part of your soul from yourself. When we ignore parts of ourselves, those parts don’t stay healthy.”
I swallow. “So it would be impossible—”
“Not impossible,” she cuts in. Her mouth thins before she continues, “You’ve separated yourself from your beast too much. Gideon has told me that dragons are similar to krakens in being more magical than physical beings.”
I nod. We are shapeshifters of magic. There’s no knowledge how either of our kinds came to be. Krakens are thought to be born from the sea, while the first dragons came from the fiery earth, but there’s no memory to attest to these things.
“I think you could form another mate bond in time,” Rose breaks through my thoughts. “It may take months or even years, and it won’t happen by accident. You need to stop pushing your beast away. He is you and you are him. You don’t help either of you by rejecting him.”
“I don’t reject him—” I start to argue, but stop. I don’t reject him, but I do consider him separate. An entity to allow exercise from time to time. Not a being that should exist in our modern world. His emotions are a tumult of reactions.
“He’s, to put it simply, your heart,” Rose reiterates. “By being in alignment with him and his will, you can start to awaken that part of yourself that you’ve let go fallow.”
The witch does something that feels like strumming a chord, and the beast is at the forefront, seething with worry and need. I grit my teeth and just as quickly push him down again.
“It hurts,” I hiss.
Rose’s eyes darken with sadness. “I’m sorry about the pain. The ties that have a hold on you will… ache. There’s no way around that. I wouldn’t recommend severing them. They are attached to the best part of you.”
My lips twitch. “The parts that are withering.”
My heart. How tragically poetic.
Rose arches her brow. “They are only withering because of neglect. That doesn’t change the fact that the memory of the ones you’ve lost includes your happiest times as well as the worst times. You’ve refused to make room for other things. It’s not about letting go. It’s about having the courage to add to them. To let the most volatile part of yourself thrive.”
Her next words strike my very core. “You’ve wounded yourself, but wounds can be healed. The pain won’t go away, but you can add sweetness to it still.”
Sweetness… it’s such a simple word for what she means. I can have a mate again. I can have Katarina as my mate.
“And this just takes me accepting my dragon?” I ask, my voice hoarse. I don’t know where to even begin.
Rose gives me an understanding smile as if she understands my conundrum. “To start, it will be you working not to suppress your dragon. It would help the process if you spend time in your original form—”
“I can’t,” I cut in. “I can’t leave Katarina while she’s vulnerable.”
“That makes sense.” Rose nods but doesn’t look pleased. “We can set up appointments where I act as a guide and… hurry the process along like I just did. It would take some time to untangle your being, especially if shifting isn’t an option, but it won’t always be as painful. It all depends on what you want in the end.”
“Thank you,” I say, my eyes on her hands while my thoughts brew. It should be a simple thing to agree to. I want Katarina as my mate, and through this process it will become possible, but there are other effects that will come from becoming “aligned” with my dragon.
The last time we were one, my dragon burned down the countryside in anger and loss. Should a being like that really be accepted in our daily lives?
“Now stop touching my mate and go back to your own,” the kraken grumbles. Rose narrows her eyes at him, but drops my hands all the same.
“You can call me when you decide what you want to do,” Rose says.
I swallow and nod. Gideon comes up behind his mate as if he can’t wait for me to be out of the room before touching her again.
I turn to leave, not needing the sight of the happy couple to stir even more conflicting thoughts in my mind, but stop when he calls out to me.
“Dragon.”
I turn back.
The kraken’s face is stern. “It’s worth it.”
I bite down on the reaction to tell him that he doesn’t know my pain, what I’ve lost, because that doesn’t matter. This is one immortal speaking to another. He has what I want. A mate carrying his young.
To him, any pain, or destruction, is worth that.
What’s more, Katarina deserves to have a mate that is connected to her very soul, who can offer her forever.