Epilogue
A Dracu loves forever.
—G AXIX, D RACU PHILOSOPHER
Z ERU CLOSED HIS BURNING EYES, REELING FROM THE brightness of the full moon after spending so long in the Cryptlands. As he gulped fresh air and brushed the soil from his face, his heart crashed in his aching chest, his eyes scouring the trees. After surviving a month without seeing her, he was starved for a glimpse.
His heart stopped. There. Her golden hair was touched by moonlight as she sat waiting under the yew tree. The same tree where he’d given her the ring. He closed his eyes, trying to get control of himself before he spoke to her. For all he knew, she’d called him here to discuss finer points of the peace bargain. He’d worked tirelessly for it, fighting with Guzzo and the other fools in the Dracu court, knowing that Cassia and her sisters must be working equally hard in Scarhamm. He’d also helped his parents settle into their new, finer quarters, courtesy of the queen’s gratitude for helping eliminate the scucca threat.
But when he’d heard Cassia’s call, heard her voice through the amulet, everything in him had woken up. And he’d rushed to their old meeting place as eagerly as he had when he was eight years old. No, more desperately. He’d warned himself not to hope that she wanted any more from him than his help brokering peace.
“Dracu, Dracu,” Cassia said, a smile in her voice. “I’m a better hunter than I used to be. Don’t make me track you.”
“As if you could, Sylvan,” Zeru said, his heart slamming as he sauntered over to where she sat. “I have wings now, remember?”
“So do I. Care to test me?”
Yes. He longed to fly with her again. But he lifted a shoulder in a negligent shrug. “It’s too warm to fly.”
She looked up at him, her eyes devouring. His heart was trying to leap out of his chest and into her hands. “Too warm to fly? What kind of sad excuse for a Zerian are you?”
He gave the sky a cursory glance. “If you really want to, I suppose we could.”
“No, it’s all right. I wouldn’t want to drop this.” She held something up.
“What is it?” he asked.
“It’s a honey cake. I know how you love them.”
He swallowed as he took the wrapped package from her hands, careful not to touch her. That would be asking too much of himself. If he felt her skin, he was going to fall apart. “Did you bake it?”
“No. It wouldn’t be worth eating. Anyway, you didn’t make any of the gifts you gave me.”
He took a spot next to her under the tree, his back leaning against the bark. He didn’t worry whether it was a blood tree. The pact they’d negotiated said the trees would only harm a Dracu in defense of a Sylvan. And he had no intention of hurting Cassia. Ever. Carefully, he unwrapped the cake and took a bite. Sweetness exploded in his mouth. The fact that she’d somehow known these were his favorite…
“Would you like a bite?” he asked.
“It’s yours. You enjoy it.”
He swallowed. “Just a taste.”
She turned her head toward him, her head resting against the trunk. “All right. Feed me a bite.”
Her lips parted, their beautiful contours filling his vision. He felt his nostrils flare, the blood pounding through his veins. He broke off a piece of the honey cake and put it to her lips. She took the bite, licking his finger as she did before it disappeared into her mouth. His mind emptied. She was either very cruel, or…
“Good,” she said. “But I knew it would be. Our cook is the best.”
“I can’t argue,” he said, wondering how he managed to keep his voice so steady. Maybe his Zerian form gave him preternatural control over himself. Not his heart, though. That was Dracu. It was still base and wild. And hers.
“Now it’s your turn, Dracu. Where’s my gift?”
“I gave you three,” he reminded her, taking a breath for courage before he added, “By Dracu tradition, that assures our bond for life.”
She went silent, but lifted something around her neck, showing the holed stone on a string. Then she turned her head to show the fish-bone comb in her hair. She’d kept them. “I didn’t know that. I guess you don’t owe me a gift, then. But I owe you two more.”
He closed his eyes. He enjoyed the game they were playing, but it was stretching his patience to its limits. If this uncertainty went on much longer, he was going to start howling like a moon-maddened wolf.
“You do owe me something, though,” she added. “You were supposed to tell me what katra means.”
He groaned. He couldn’t help it. Of all the things to ask him now. He pushed to his feet. “Did you bring me here to torture me, Cassia?”
She stood, too. Her brows were drawn together. “No. I missed you. Didn’t you miss me?”
“More than I ever knew possible,” he admitted, hoping that wasn’t revealing too much.
She flew into his arms, pushing him into the tree. He clutched her back as he stared hungrily at her face. “By the Ancients, I have longed for you.”
Thankfully, before he could embarrass himself further, she distracted him. Her hand crept inside the collar of his shirt, her other hand on the back of his head, pulling him closer. “Kiss me, you fool Dracu.”
Her mouth was soft, her tongue hot, and he wondered if she tasted the sweetness of honey, of her own gift, on his lips.
“I hated being apart for so long,” she said, taking a breath before kissing him once more. He reveled in her voracious need for him, his head spinning with a joy he’d started to lose hope he’d ever feel again. When her sharper Zerian teeth drew blood from his lip, she jerked back. “I’m sorry! I hurt you.”
“Quiet,” he snarled, and showed her that he didn’t mind at all.
They didn’t speak for a long while.
As the moon set, his arms tightened around her. It always surprised him how right she felt there.
“I’m going to be very angry if you don’t tell me what your endearment means,” she warned him, her hands combing through his hair.
“Oh,” he said, nuzzling her cheek. “Right. I guess I shouldn’t worry you’ll run screaming?” It was still a question.
She gave him a deep kiss, biting his lip deliberately this time. “What do you think?”
“There’s no exact translation,” he said, holding a palm up when she opened her mouth, “but it means some combination of the words love , haven , and home .”
They stared at each other for a minute. Cassia smiled as her eyes shone with a film of tears. “I katra you, too,” she said.
Laughter burst from him. No one could surprise him like she could. Though he was dizzy with the meaning of what she’d said, it was too much to absorb at once. Later, when he was alone, he could replay that moment a thousand times in his mind. But for now, he would tease her and laugh. “That’s not how you use it,” he said. “Poor Sylvan.”
She shrugged, her eyes mischievous. “I’m the steward of Welkincaster. I do as I please. Speaking of, I was wondering if you wanted to spend some time there with me. Now that the peace deal is almost done, I’ll be free from my duties for a while. Want to grow some vegetables?”
“Only,” he said, nipping her gently with his teeth, “if we grow turnips.”
She laughed as their lips met and they held each other, their bodies so close together they looked inseparable. As they slept a while later, moon sprites danced around them, wanting to get closer to the winged Dracu and the golden Sylvan with so much sunlight in their hearts.