Page 27

Twenty-Seven

Myron

It’s an echo at first, a light tug at the center of my chest that could have been the mating bond.

It isn’t, though. Too many times have I felt this very sensation throughout the endless years of my existence. Too often have I made promises and bargains and followed the call of them to whatever end. It’s the moment dawn yields to this tomorrow that all thoughts fall away from me, making space for only one tightly woven thread—that of my last promise to her before we went into battle against the Flames, before we ambushed them and she got stuck in her bird form.

Sunlight gilds the frame of the mirror behind Ayna, bouncing off her near-silver hair, her pale skin becoming luminescent once more as if in answer to the warm touch of a new day.

We survived. Damn Ephegos and Erina and the war. They all can wait for a little while longer. Ephegos made his bargain with Shaelak, the god has disappeared, and Recienne promised I’ll be the first he’ll let know if they find any spies in the now-even-more-heavily-patrolled city or at the palace. I can’t even think of Herinor, whom I’ve ordered locked in the dungeon but properly fed and taken care of. I have yet to decide what I’ll do with him in this mess of only partially his own making.

For now, Ayna is all I can see. So beautiful. Even more so than she was as a human. And I don’t mean her long legs sticking out from under the hem of my shirt hanging loosely on her frame, or the swell of her breasts where the collar cleaves open. It’s the spark of who she is that radiates like a newborn star.

Her lips part, sucking in a breath as the thread spills across the room, demanding I fulfill my promise. Because she has fulfilled hers.

The magic of promises and bargains writhes inside of me, demanding I stand by my word. Ayna’s fae body allows it to recognize this tomorrow as the tomorrow that counts.

I secure my arms more tightly over my chest, locking my body in place by the door, because I can’t push her. Not after everything she’s gone through. Not if she’s not ready.

Ayna tilts her head, her fae ears peeking through her hair, and for a moment, all I can do is marvel at my beautiful mate. When I dare meet her gaze, the predatory focus in her gray eyes tells me she feels it, too, the calling of the promise.

Slowly, she pushes away from the sink, bare feet padding across the room silently as only a true Crow can. Like pitch-black liquid, the fabric of my shirt moves along her body with every step, with every breath, and I’m not proud to admit the satisfaction it brings me, seeing her in my clothes.

I don’t dare as much as breathe as Ayna stops a foot from me, lifting her slender hand to my chest, placing it over my heart. “Ephegos can wait.”

A growl of agreement builds in my throat, but I swallow it down, opting for a simple nod. Through my shirt, her palm heats my skin like a ray of sun spilling from behind the window, and from the depths of my heart, another thread springs to life.

Ayna’s eyes widen. “The bond,” she whispers.

On instinct, my hand covers hers, holding it in place as, originating from the touch, the thin thread of our mating bond weaves through me.

At first, it’s a tingle seeping into my tissues, spreading like honey melting in the sun until warmth turns to heat and heat to searing fire. My breath hitches, but I don’t as much as blink as she holds my gaze, unflinching, unafraid. My mate.

“I love you.” She says it like something she only just remembered, but the blazing light radiating from beneath her palm tells the story of a love that can never be forgotten. A love so fierce it could melt steel and stone and the frozen rock my heart used to be.

I don’t shut my eyes against the brightness either, stunned by the force of the mating bond rushing through me, sliding against my skin, seeping into my flesh, my bones, until nothing exists outside this room, outside Ayna and me, the two of us a fated unit meant for eternity.

“Mine,” Ayna whispers, and I can’t help the groan reverberating through my chest at that single word. Proof she feels it, too, this earth-rocking moment confirming that this—that our bond—can’t be taken away. Not even by the gods who willed it.

“Mine,” I echo, my voice near guttural as I strain to keep that foot distance between our bodies, our hands against my chest the only point we touch. For long heartbeats, I wait. Wait for Ayna to close the gap. She doesn’t move, but those gray eyes bore into mine, unearthing the pain of the past weeks, the fear of never being able to hold her again, and I break, my voice hoarse as I speak what’s been tormenting me from the moment the first shock of her shifting ebbed.

“Never again,” I say, securing her hand more tightly to my chest. Never again will we be separated by anything or anyone. Never again will I fail you. Never again will anyone attempt to break our bond and keep you from me. I don’t say all those thoughts because I read them in Ayna’s eyes the same way she reads them in mine.

In a whisper of wind, my power strokes my mate’s cheek, brushing away the single tear falling from her lashes, but her gaze is no longer full of sorrow. Determination has taken over her face in a silent promise. Never again.

And when she leans closer, her palm pushing me against the unyielding oak door at my back, what I had left of my restraint snaps, and I pull her against me with a yank of my magic. Ayna’s soft gasp tickles the exposed skin at my neck, sending a shiver of pleasure straight to my core.

Before I can wonder if it’s too soon, if she feels too foreign in this new body, or if the trauma of being trapped in her bird form is too heavy a weight, she kisses the sliver of bare skin where my shirt cleaves open at my collar bone. A soft, tentative kiss.

I hold so still my tendons might snap my bones, but I don’t dare move an inch for fear she’ll pull away again, or turn into smoke and feathers and all of this will have been a dream.

“I promised you a tomorrow.” Her words are a murmur against the hollow beneath my throat, and the shiver turns into full-on blazing heat at what her words imply. Sliding her other hand around my neck, she tilts back her head so she can look into my eyes.

My heart starts pounding at the way Ayna’s lips curve into a wicked smile as she reads from my eyes what I’m ready to deliver.

“It’s time for you to honor your own promise.”

And I pounce.