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The permission—freely given, not forced by heat or circumstance—shatters the last barrier of control. With a final powerful thrust, my knot presses past initial resistance, her body stretching to accommodate what should be impossible. The sensation of being locked completely inside her triggers my release with overwhelming force, seed pumping deep within her in primal satisfaction despite knowing she already carries my offspring.

The pressure of my knot against her most sensitive inner spots triggers her own climax in response, her inner walls clenching rhythmically around me in a way that prolongs and intensifies my pleasure to near-painful levels.

"Mine," I growl against her claiming mark, the word coming from deepest instinct rather than conscious thought. "My omega."

"Yours," she gasps between shuddering breaths, surrender and triumph combined in her voice. "Your omega."

We remain locked together in our precarious position, the tower wall supporting her back while my inhuman strength holds us both secure. The knot will bind us for hours, biology ensuring optimal breeding conditions despite conception having already occurred.

With careful movements that avoid disturbing our connection, I maneuver us to the stone floor, cradling her in my lap to minimize discomfort during the extended joining. Mytail remains wrapped possessively around her thigh, while my higher body temperature shields her from the mountain night's chill.

As our breathing gradually steadies, her hand returns to the slight swell below her navel. "Our child," she murmurs, wonder still coloring her voice. "Half feline, half human. Neither one nor the other."

"Something new," I agree, my own hand covering hers. "Like what we're becoming together."

"What are we becoming?" she asks, voicing the question that's hovered unspoken between us for weeks.

"Something without precedent," I answer honestly. "Something beyond commander and claimed omega. Beyond conqueror and conquered."

"Partners," she suggests, echoing her earlier word choice that stirred such response in me.

"Partners," I agree, the term inadequate yet better than any alternative.

As the knot continues to bind us together beneath the star-filled sky, I allow myself to acknowledge what her acceptance of our child—of me—has awakened. Not just possession, not just primal satisfaction, but something I'd long since abandoned hope of finding in this grim existence.

My tail tightens slightly around her thigh in unconscious response to the thought.

CHAPTER 18

ATTACK AT DAWN

Aria POV

Warninghorns rip me from sleep—three short blasts followed by one long, the signal for attack. My body moves before my brain fully wakes up, hands grabbing for the clothes I'd laid out just in case. The stone floor feels like ice against my bare feet as I dress as fast as I can, fumbling with the unfamiliar fastenings in the dark.

Fritz is already gone, his scent hanging in the doorway between our rooms. The knowledge of what's growing inside me—his child, our child—makes everything more urgent as I tie my boots. I'm not just protecting myself anymore, but the little life we've made.

The fortress hallways buzz with controlled chaos—feline soldiers moving with deadly purpose, officers shouting orders, medical staff getting ready for the wounded. I catch bits of reports as I hurry toward the command room.

"Western approach... multiple entry points... using the ridgeline we thought impassable..."

The map room shows me how bad things really are. Fritz stands at the central table, golden eyes narrowed to thin slitsas he takes in all the information. His tail lashes once—the only sign of the tension I can smell coming off him in waves.

"Dragon forces broke through the outer perimeter at three points," Lieutenant Thorne reports, pointing to markers on the map. "They're using information from our captured scouts to target our weak spots."

"Numbers?" Fritz's voice stays steady, but I catch the undertone of controlled rage.

"At least seventy ready to fight. Maybe more."

Ice runs through my veins. Our defense plans expected forty at most. This isn't just testing our borders—it's a full-on invasion.

Fritz's eyes meet mine across the room, acknowledging me without breaking his focus. "Settlement evacuation," he orders, speaking directly to me. "Get them into the caves beneath the fortress."

I nod, understanding the trust this shows. He's putting me in charge of saving my own people while he handles the military defense.

"Rotation defense on the western wall," he continues, turning back to Thorne. "Draw them toward the northern approach where our archers have the high ground."

His mind works in ways I'm still learning to appreciate—balancing immediate battle needs with longer-term defense planning. Even in crisis, he thinks three steps ahead.