Chapter 22
Krystal
Bryce stayed asleep all the way home, limp as a sack of wet laundry in Zaden’s arms. The wind had picked up by the time we got to the cottage, and somewhere out in the dark the wolves were running their moon circuits, maybe half the pack, howling and having a great time.
I unlocked the front door and Zaden carried our son straight down the hall, his steps barely creaking even though the floorboards had been warped since before I bought the place.
Inside, the cottage was exactly as I’d left it.
The kitchen counter was still cluttered with Bryce’s half-finished science project, a shoebox volcano, the living room sofa tangled with clean but unfolded laundry, and the air carrying that faint signature of furniture polish.
The only light came from a dog-shaped lamp in the corner, and the string of dragonfly bulbs Bryce had begged me to leave up all year.
Every surface of the house was peppered with evidence that a child lived here.
Muddy sneakers by the back door, loose LEGO shrapnel on the rug, drawings tacked up on every flat spot that could hold a pushpin.
Most of the drawings were wolves, but a recent crop included red-and-gold dragons, their wings eating up whole pages.
I took Bryce’s backpack off Zaden’s shoulder and watched as he carried him into the bedroom, careful to duck his head on the doorframe. I followed, hitting the hallway light so it wouldn’t wake him.
Zaden paused at the bed, the sheets half-pulled, a blanket cocoon on one side, and four stuffed animals in various states of wear. He set Bryce down as if lowering a fragile bomb onto a pillow. The boy rolled onto his back, snorted, and blinked up at me.
I crouched beside him and tried to run my hand through his hair, but it was too knotted. "Hey, bud," I whispered. "You made it."
He mumbled, "Is the witch gone?"
"Yep," I said. "We’re home. You’re safe."
He nodded and closed his eyes, but one hand shot out and caught my wrist before I could pull away. "Don’t let her come back," he said, slurring the words.
Zaden stepped in, crouched on the other side, and tapped Bryce’s knuckles. "We’re on it, little man. She won’t get past me, I promise."
Bryce managed a smile, then curled both arms around his favorite wolf plush and sank again. He looked so small in the bed. The magic had drained him dry.
I pulled the sheet up to his chin and brushed my thumb along his brow, checking for fever. His skin was warm but not burning, just the flush of a kid who’d done too much living for one night.
"Love you, B," I said.
He answered with a snore.
Zaden stood and waited by the door, watching the whole scene like he was memorizing it.
The way he held himself, shoulders wide, chest braced, made the room feel smaller, but not in a bad way.
I could feel the mate bond, finally unblocked, vibrating under my skin, a new but familiar hum.
It was like living with a toothache for years and then having it vanish overnight, leaving only the ghost of the pain.
I waited for him in the hallway, letting the nightlight fill the gap behind me. Zaden shut the door with a click. For a minute, neither of us moved.
Then he reached for me, his hand finding the small of my back with practiced ease. He pulled me in to rest his forehead on mine.
"He’s tougher than I would've thought," Zaden whispered.
I closed my eyes and leaned on him. "He gets it from his dad."
He snorted, then kissed the tip of my nose. "Definitely from his mom."
We drifted back down the hall to the living room, both of us moving slowly, as if anything faster might wake Bryce and start the night over from zero.
Zaden collapsed onto the sofa first, his body folding into the cushions in a way that made him look both huge and exhausted.
I sat next to him, thigh-to-thigh, enjoying the heat radiating off his skin.
The silence was thick, but not uncomfortable.
"You okay?" he asked.
I shook my head. "No. But I think we will be."
He watched me. "You want to talk about it?"
I did, but I didn’t. I twisted the end of my braid and studied my hands.
"It’s my fault," I said. "The block, I mean. The one that almost killed him. If my mom hadn’t—"
Zaden cut me off with a squeeze to my knee. "Stop. It's her fault. Not yours."
I didn’t. "If I’d told you sooner, or figured it out, maybe you could've—"
He lifted my chin with a single finger, forcing me to meet his eyes. "Krystal. This was never your fault. You were trying to protect him. That’s what parents do."
I blinked back the burn of tears, angry at how easily he could break through my armor. "He almost died."
"But he didn’t." Zaden’s voice went low, serious. "You saved him. You and me. And even Vivienne, I guess, but—"
I interrupted him this time. "You don’t like her much, do you?"
He shrugged, but I could feel the tension through the bond. "She’s dangerous," he said. "And not just because of the magic. She wants something. I don’t know what it is yet, but I don’t trust her."
I considered that. "She seemed like she wanted to help tonight."
He rolled his eyes. "Yeah. Because she wants to see how far she can push us. She’s playing a long game, Krys. There's just something about her."
Then I asked, "What happens now?" I meant it in the biggest sense, parenthood, immortality, the mate bond running wild in my blood, but I realized Zaden could take the question any way he wanted.
He grinned, sharp and a little mean. "You mean, do you turn into a dragon tonight?"
I elbowed him in the ribs, but he didn’t even flinch. "Not funny."
He leaned closer, his hand sliding to my hip. "Maybe a little funny."
I snorted, then sobered. "But seriously. How does it work? Do I, will I, shift, or change, or what? I need to know."
Zaden drew back enough to look me over, all the way from hairline to toes.
He tucked my hair behind my ear, then explained, "Only humans turn into dragons when they get claimed. Wolves stay wolves. But you and me, our lives are tied together now. You’ll heal like I do.
You’ll live as long as I do. That’s the curse and the gift. "
I thought about that, then said, "You didn’t bite me."
"Not yet," he said, and the look in his eyes sparked heat under my skin. "That’s the last step. But it has to happen in bed."
I blushed. "I know. It's the same for wolves."
He grinned, cocky, but then his face went serious. "I want you, Krys. But if you’re not ready, we wait."
I looked at him. Really looked. My body felt like it belonged to someone else. My heart jackhammered in my chest, my mouth was dry, but my palms were sweating. The mate bond prickled every inch of my skin, a thousand little needles of anticipation.
I swallowed. "I want you to bite me."
He stilled for a second, as if he couldn’t believe I’d said it. Then he stood, one motion, and offered me his hand. I took it.
He led me down the short hall to the bedroom. Zaden closed the door behind us and turned the lock, even though we both knew nobody in this county would dare show up uninvited.
He looked at me, and in the glow, his eyes burned hot, the gold rings around his pupils shining like lit fuses.
I let the world drop away. All the guilt, all the fear, all the years of waiting, I let them go. It was Zaden and me, the space between us charged with a promise.
I unbuttoned my shirt and let it fall. The chill in the air hit me, but the heat in his stare burned it away.
He stripped off his own clothes with practiced ease, then crossed the room and gathered me up, his mouth hard on mine.
I tasted the start of a new life, wrapped up in the touch of a man who’d waited a century for this and was finally done waiting.
I wrapped my legs around his waist, and he carried me to the bed.
He set me down, then crawled in after, pressing his weight into me but careful not to crush.
We fit, perfectly.
I pulled him down and kissed him, hard.
He growled, actually growled, and it echoed in my chest.
The first round left my ears ringing and my skin burning. But instead of sated, I felt hungrier, every nerve ending greedy for more, every brush of skin on skin a pulse of electricity under my bones.
Zaden pulled me up, chest to chest, and kissed me until my head spun.
He was rough with it, not out of carelessness but out of a kind of desperation that made my wolf want to bare its teeth in answer.
He fisted a hand in my hair and the other on my ass, kneading it so hard I thought he’d leave bruises.
"You okay?" he asked, breathing hot against my ear.
"Not even close," I said, and bit his lower lip until he groaned.
We went at each other like animals after that. He shoved me flat on my back and pinned my wrists above my head, using one hand. His grip was unbreakable, but I tried anyway, twisting and bucking under him until he laughed, low, guttural, full of challenge.
"Always with the fight," he said, grinning.
I snapped my teeth at him. "You like it."
"I love it," he said, and lined his cock up to my entrance, sliding in so slowly I could feel every ridge and vein. My whole body shuddered.
The mate bond kicked harder with every stroke.
I could feel his hunger, his absolute need to own me, to mark me as his.
I could feel his pride in every inch of my body, how he wanted to make me come so hard I’d forget my own name.
Under that, there was a possessive, primal joy, a dragon’s need to claim and protect and fuck until the world went quiet.
The more I gave back, the harder he worked me. We moved in lockstep, every thrust answered by a push of my hips, every drag of his tongue across my collarbone matched by my nails raking down his back. His heat radiated off him, turning the bed into a sauna. My sweat ran down my back onto the bed.
When I came, it was brutal and sharp. My whole body convulsed, squeezing him so tight he cursed and almost lost rhythm. He leaned down, mouth on my neck, and bit, not breaking skin, just threatening, his fangs scraping the sensitive spot under my jaw.
The second time, he flipped me onto my stomach, spread my legs, and took me from behind. He fucked me deep and hard, rutting like he was trying to plant a flag in the center of my soul. I howled into the pillow, biting down so I wouldn’t wake Bryce.
Zaden gripped my hips, slamming me back into him. He bent over me, pressing his chest to my back, and his hand snaked around to my clit. He worked it in tight, ruthless circles, and I broke again, vision flashing white.
He came with a roar, a real one, his teeth at my nape.
The orgasm ripped through him, and at the peak he bit me, hard, at the spot where my neck met my shoulder.
This time, he broke skin. His teeth sank in, heat and the wetness, and instead of pain, it shot straight to my core, lighting up every cell in my body.
My wolf responded in kind. As soon as he released my neck, I twisted around, grabbed his bicep with both hands, and bit his shoulder, sinking my canines in as deep as I could.
Blood filled my mouth, metallic, sweet, something ancient and forbidden.
The magic slammed through me, igniting a chemical chain reaction from my jaw to my clit to the soles of my feet.
The room shook. The mate bond went from a hum to a rolling boil, flooding my head with images, memories, and want. I saw the world through his eyes for a split second. the red haze of hunger, the pride at my strength, the certainty that this was right.
We collapsed, tangled in sweat and blood and the sheets bunched under us. He rolled us so I was on top, and I stayed there, gasping, forehead pressed to his. I licked the blood from his shoulder. He grinned up at me, the marks already healing, golden eyes wild and bright.
"You’re a fucking animal," he said adoringly.
I grinned back. "So are you."
We lay there, the taste of blood still between us, the bond finally settled to a steady, hot throb.
I ran a finger over the bite on my neck. It tingled, but the skin was already closing, a crescent-shaped scar forming in the wake. I wondered if it would ever fade.
"Does it always feel like that?" I asked.
He smirked. "Ashton said the first time is the best, but that every time after that almost measures up. He actually wasn't sure if the first time was the best or if he'd just made it a special memory in his head and elevated it."
I snorted. "I hope we get to do that every night."
He stroked a hand down my back, as if making sure every inch of me was still there. "You’re stuck with me, you know."
"I know," I said, and the wolf in me loved it.
He pulled me down for another kiss, slower this time, and I melted into it. For the first time in my life, I felt complete, like every part of me, every stray nerve and impulse, was exactly where it belonged.
We drifted off, eventually, the bond a warm blanket over both of us. My last thought before sleep was of Bryce, safe and dreaming down the hall, his own magic quiet at last.
And me, mated to a dragon, with the whole world ahead of us.