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I pull her down against me, needing her closer, needing more. The feel of her scales against my chest creates an irresistible friction, cool and hot at once. Her mouth finds mine, kissing me with a hunger that matches the rhythm of our bodies.

Her inner muscles flutter around me as her pleasure builds. I slip a hand between us, fingers finding her clit and circling it. She gasps against my mouth when I touch her there, her body trembling.

“Hargen,” she pants, movements growing erratic as she chases release. “I can’t—”

“God,” I whisper against her throat. “I want to feel you coming around me.”

We move together with renewed urgency, my thrusts meeting hers, driving deeper.

Her dragon nature surfaces completely—eyes pure gold, scales shifting and gleaming across her torso and thighs as she takes me deeper.

The sensation is overwhelming, like being claimed by something ancient and powerful and utterly devoted.

“Now,” she gasps as I feel her body begin to shake. “Hargen, now—”

The world narrows to this moment. Her cry as release takes her, her teeth finding the juncture between my neck and shoulder, the sharp pain as she bites down hard enough to draw blood.

Then magic explodes between us.

Dragon fire flows through the bite mark, searing and cold at once. I feel her consciousness merge with mine, centuries of instinct and memory and fierce protective love flooding my awareness. The boundaries between us dissolve completely.

Mine, her voice echoes in my mind. Always mine.

Always yours, I think back, and feel her wonder at the connection, the perfect understanding that words never could have achieved.

The fire spreads outward from the bite, etching itself into my skin in intricate patterns. Scales, I realize dimly. Her mark taking root in my very bones. But the pain is nothing compared to the completeness—the sense of coming home to myself after decades of living as half a person.

When awareness returns, we’re still tangled together, breathing hard. Her head rests on my shoulder, lips gentle against the mark she left behind. I can feel her satisfaction like it’s my own emotion, her contentment settling into my pores.

“I can feel you everywhere,” she whispers, wonder clear in her voice.

“Good.” I stroke her hair, still platinum but now I can sense the dragon fire beneath it, the ancient power that’s always been part of her. “This means you can’t hide from me anymore.”

She laughs against my throat. “No more secrets.”

I examine the mark on my shoulder—an intricate pattern of scales that looks like it was branded into my skin, but doesn’t hurt. The opposite, actually. It pulses gently with each of her heartbeats, a constant reminder of the bond between us.

“You’ll always carry my mark now,” she explains, tracing the pattern with one finger. “No matter where we are, what happens to us, this connects us. Distance, time, even death—none of it can break a dragon’s mate bond.”

Through our new connection, I feel her lingering guilt about my injuries, the self-recrimination she’s been carrying.

Without thinking, I push my forgiveness through the bond—not words, but the actual feeling.

The certainty that every choice she made was necessary, that I’d rather bear these scars than live without her and Ember.

Her breath catches. “You really do forgive me.”

“There was never anything to forgive. You saved our daughter. You saved us all.”

She shifts against me, studying my face in the dying light. “What happens now?”

“Now we build the life we never got to have.” I pull her closer, marveling at how right this feels. “We raise our daughter. We help Viktor destroy the people who tried to tear us apart. We grow old together.”

“Dragons don’t really age,” she says with a smile. “Witches don’t either.”

“Then we grow old in spirit. More cantankerous and set in our ways.”

She laughs, and the sound settles something deep in my chest that’s been wound tight for too long. Through the bond, I feel her imagining it—years of mornings like this, years of falling asleep in each other’s arms, years of being allowed to love openly without fear.

“I love you,” she says against my throat. “I never stopped.”

“I know.” The mark on my shoulder pulses with her heartbeat, steady and sure. “I never stopped either. That's how I knew it was you when I got the message about our daughter. There was never anyone else. No one in my world who might have carried my child. Not after you.”

It feels right when I say it. Not something I’ve ever denied her. From those moments all those years ago, until right here in each other’s arms, it’s been there. True. Constant. A simple part of who I am.

Sleep tugs at the edges of my consciousness, but I fight it. Don’t want to lose this moment, this perfect sense of completion. But Vanya’s breathing is already evening out, her body relaxing completely against mine for the first time since our reunion.

The mark on my shoulder continues its gentle rhythm as I finally let exhaustion take me. Her claim on me, our connection humming in my bones like a promise that nothing—no politics, no madmen, no ancient grudges—can break what we’ve built here.

Forever.

Finally, we get forever.