Chapter 47
FORTY-SEVEN
CASSIA
One week after the battle, Cassia stood at the edge of the sea cliffs and tried not to hyperventilate.
The Overlook had been transformed. Lanterns hung from poles driven into the grass, their soft glow warming the twilight air.
Flowers from every garden in Haven Shores decorated the natural rock formation that served as a makeshift altar.
The entire town had turned out—shifters and witches and humans alike, all gathered to witness something unprecedented.
A dragon mating ceremony. The first one Haven Shores had ever seen.
“Stop fidgeting.” Junie adjusted the crown of wildflowers nestled in Cassia’s curls. “You look gorgeous. He’s going to lose his ancient mind.”
“I’m not fidgeting.”
“You’re creating a breeze.” Avine smoothed down the skirt of Cassia’s dress—deep blue silk that matched the evening sky, simple and elegant and utterly unlike anything Cassia normally wore. “A localized, stress-induced breeze. The flower petals are flying off the altar.”
Cassia forced herself to breathe. To calm the magic crackling beneath her skin. “Sorry. I just—”
“You’re scared,” Narla said quietly, her serene presence cutting through Cassia’s spiraling anxiety. “That’s normal. You’re about to bind yourself to someone for the rest of your life.”
“Not helping.”
“I’m not trying to help. I’m trying to make you face it.” Narla’s dark eyes held steady. “You’ve been running from permanence your whole life, Cassia. Telling yourself nothing this good stays. This is the moment you stop believing that.”
Cassia’s throat tightened. Trust Narla to see right through her—to name the fear she hadn’t even admitted to herself.
“What if he realizes?” The words came out barely a whisper. “What if he figures out I’m not worth it? He’s lived centuries. He’ll outlive everything I’ve ever known. And I’m just… me.”
“Just you.” Junie snorted. “Just the most powerful weather witch Haven Shores has ever produced. Just the woman who helped stop a tsunami. Just the person who made an eight-hundred-year-old emotional disaster of a dragon actually feel things.” She grabbed Cassia’s shoulders.
“You’re not just anything, Cass. You’re a fucking force of nature.
And if that dragon doesn’t know he’s getting the deal of his immortal life, he’s dumber than he looks. ”
“She’s right,” Avine said quietly. “You found someone who doesn’t want you smaller. Stop being scared and go claim it.”
“Okay.” Cassia took a shaky breath. “Okay. Let’s do this.”
The crowd parted as she walked toward the altar.
She saw familiar faces everywhere—Theo and Leo and the alpha network, standing witness for the community.
Beck with Rosemary, their hands intertwined, both of them looking at each other with the soft certainty of people who’d finally stopped running.
The witch elders in their ceremonial robes, their magic humming in approval.
Delos grinning from his position beside the altar, practically bouncing with excitement.
Gust circled overhead, his small form a dark silhouette against the fading light.
He’d been insufferable all day—alternating between territorial posturing and grudging acceptance of the dragon who’d become a permanent fixture in his witch’s life.
Now he settled on a nearby rock, watching the proceedings with the air of a chaperone who expected the worst.
The seagulls had gathered too, of course.
The supernatural gossip network never missed a major event, and a dragon claiming ceremony was about as major as events got.
Cassia could practically hear them spreading the news across Haven Shores—the storm witch and the dragon elder, finally making it official.
And Aero.
He stood at the altar’s center, dressed in something dark and tailored that probably cost more than Cassia’s cottage.
His gray-streaked hair had been combed into submission for once, though a few strands were already escaping.
His jaw was freshly shaved. His eyes tracked her approach with an intensity that made her breath catch.
He looked terrified. And hopeful. And so devastatingly in love that Cassia nearly stumbled.
Elder Sue Tidewell stepped forward as Cassia reached the altar, her ancient face creased with insufferable smugness.
“Friends, neighbors, members of the supernatural community.” Sue’s voice carried easily over the crowd. “We are gathered here to witness something extraordinary. A mating bond. A claiming. The union of two souls who have found in each other what they could not find anywhere else.”
She turned her knowing gaze on Cassia and Aero.
“I knew the moment he arrived,” Sue said, not bothering to hide her satisfaction. “The way the weather changed when they were in the same room. A storm dragon and a storm witch. Even I couldn’t have planned this better. And I plan everything.”
Cassia rolled her eyes, but Aero’s lips twitched with something that might have been amusement. Delos outright laughed from his position behind Aero, earning a sharp look from the elder dragon that did nothing to dim his grin.
“Dragon ceremonies are simple,” Sue continued. “No elaborate rituals. No lengthy vows. Just declarations. Promises. The intention to claim.” She gestured to Aero. “Speak your truth, dragon elder. Tell us why you’re here.”
Aero turned to face Cassia fully, taking her hands in his. His fingers were trembling—almost imperceptibly, but she felt it. This ancient, powerful creature, who had faced down armies and survived centuries… trembling because of her.
“I have lived for eight hundred years.” His voice carried over the crowd, steady despite the tremor in his hands. “I have seen wonders and horrors. I have watched civilizations rise and fall. I have witnessed beauty that would break mortal minds and destruction that would shatter immortal ones.”
He paused, his grip tightening on her fingers.
“And I never once understood what people meant when they talked about love. It seemed inefficient. Irrational. A vulnerability I couldn’t afford. I built walls around my heart so high and so strong that eventually I forgot there was anything inside worth protecting.”
Love flickered in his expression.
“Then I met you.” A ghost of a smile curved his lips.
“And you were everything I thought I didn’t want.
Chaos and emotion and feelings I couldn’t categorize.
Your storms didn’t follow patterns. Your magic didn’t obey rules.
You argued with my methodology and challenged my conclusions and refused to simply follow instructions. ”
A few soft laughs rippled through the crowd. Cassia felt her cheeks heat.
“You terrified me,” Aero said quietly. “You still terrify me. Because loving you means risking loss. Means knowing that one day—whether in fifty years or five hundred—I will have to exist in a world without you. And that thought is unbearable.”
His hands steadied around hers, his voice gaining strength.
“But I’ve decided I’d rather be terrified with you than safe without you. I’d rather have decades of chaos than centuries of emptiness. I’d rather learn to feel again—even knowing how much it will hurt when the feeling ends—than go back to the numbness I mistook for peace.”
Cassia’s eyes were burning. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t cry. That promise was already broken.
“You asked me once what I wanted from you,” Aero said.
“I didn’t have an answer then. I do now.
” His thumbs traced circles on the backs of her hands.
“Everything. I want everything. I want your storms and your sunshine. Your chaos and your calm. Your worst days and your best ones. I want to spend however long you have—and however long I have after—being grateful for the gift of knowing you.”
Sue Tidewell made a soft sound that might have been approval. Or possibly smugness. Hard to tell with Sue.
“Storm witch.” The elder turned to Cassia. “Your turn. Speak your truth.”
Cassia took a breath. Then another. Her hands were shaking now, too—trembling in Aero’s steady grip—but her voice came out clear.
“I’ve spent my whole life being told I’m too much.
” The words hurt to say out loud, even now.
“Too loud. Too emotional. Too intense. Too powerful. My parents taught me to contain my storms. My teachers taught me to apologize for taking up space. Every relationship I’ve ever had ended the same way—with someone deciding I wasn’t worth the chaos. ”
She squeezed Aero’s hands, anchoring herself.
“I learned to make myself smaller. To hold back. To dim my light so I wouldn’t blind anyone. I convinced myself that was just who I had to be—the dramatic one, the intense one, the one people loved from a distance, but no one wanted to get close to.”
Her voice cracked, but she pushed through.
“Then you came along. This ancient, impossible, emotionally stuck dragon who looked at my chaos and called it magnificent. Who didn’t flinch from my storms. Who never—not once—asked me to be less.
” She laughed, the sound wet with tears she wasn’t trying to hide anymore.
“You looked at me at full intensity and decided you wanted more.”
“I did,” he murmured. “I do.”
“You made me feel like maybe “too much” could be exactly right. That maybe there was someone out there who needed a storm, not a summer breeze. That maybe I wasn’t broken for wanting to take up space.”
She met his gaze, storm-cloud eyes holding storm-cloud eyes.
“I love you,” she said simply. “Not because you saved me or because the surge brought you here or because some cosmic force decided we were fated. I love you because you see me—all of me, the chaos and the calm—and you choose to stay anyway. That’s the most terrifying and wonderful thing anyone has ever done. ”
“It is,” he said. “You are.”
“Then claim me.” She stepped closer, close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from his skin. “Make it permanent. I want to be yours for however long we have—decades or centuries or just tomorrow. I don’t care about the timeline. I just want you.”
Something fierce and possessive flared in his expression. His dragon—she could feel it pressing against the boundary of his control, eager and wanting and utterly certain.
“Then let’s not waste another minute.” He pulled her into a kiss that made the crowd erupt in cheers—deep and claiming and absolutely not appropriate for public viewing, but neither of them cared.
Overhead, the sky erupted in lightning—not destructive, just joyful. A celebration written in electricity across the evening clouds. The crowd cheered louder. Someone—probably Junie—whistled sharply.
When they finally broke apart, Cassia was breathless and flushed and probably looked thoroughly debauched. She didn’t care. Let the entire town see what this dragon did to her.
“By the power vested in me by the Haven Shores Council and the Continental Shifter Alliance, I declare this intention witnessed.” Sue Tidewell’s voice cut through the chaos with practiced authority. “Go complete your bond, children. And try not to destroy any more property.”
Cassia laughed against Aero’s mouth. “No promises.”