Epilogue
EPILOGUE
“Close your eyes,” Samantha said.
“I’ve been wagging around a stump for two months,” Drakkal replied, raising his left arm, which had been cut off four or five centimeters above his elbow. The lower half of his bicep was covered in a sleek, surgically implanted metal sleeve. “I shouldn’t have to wait any longer.”
“It’s only another minute or two. Now close your eyes, Drak. It’s supposed to be a surprise!”
Drakkal growled, took a moment to glare at her, and squeezed his eyes shut. His long tail flicked in annoyance, but Samantha knew he was excited.
“No peeking.” She took a step away from the table Drakkal was sitting beside and turned toward the open doorway. “He’s ready now.”
Arcanthus walked into the room with a long, cloth-wrapped bundle in his arms. “Wouldn’t it be more fun if we told him they botched the order and he had to wait a few more weeks? ”
“I’m sitting right here, sedhi,” Drakkal grumbled. “My eyes are closed, not my ears.”
“He’s agitated today, isn’t he?” Arc asked with a smirk.
Samantha poked Arc in his chest. “You’d think as someone who lost a few limbs of his own, you’d be a little more sympathetic.”
Arcanthus snickered. “You should’ve heard him calling me a whiner while I was in recovery. This is payback on the smallest possible scale—far less than he deserves.”
He knelt in front of the azhera and peeled back one end of the cloth, revealing the cybernetic prosthesis’s connector. He inserted it into the slot on Drakkal’s metal sleeve; it locked into place with a heavy click.
“You can open your eyes now,” Arcanthus said.
Drakkal opened his eyes and glanced down, scowling. “Why did you make me close my eyes if you had it covered up all along?”
“It’s not too late for me to return this, azhera. You’re lucky Samantha worked so hard on the design, or I’d have given you the ugliest, most generic prosthesis I could find.”
“You realize I have plenty of credits to my own name, don’t you?”
“Don’t you dare take away what little satisfaction I can find in this,” Arcanthus snapped. “Besides, I paid for it from your account.” Before Drakkal could reply, Arc loosened the cloth wrapping and tugged it off with a flourish.
Drakkal’s eyes flared, transfixed on the prosthesis.
Samantha clasped her hands together and raised them to her chest, wringing her fingers. Despite Arcanthus’s encouragement, she’d doubted herself ever since she had the idea to design the aesthetics of Drakkal’s cybernetic arm. It seemed like such a big thing, such an important thing, and she wasn’t sure of Drakkal’s tastes. Would he appreciate the stylized limb she’d designed, or would he have preferred the sort of prosthetic that looked like a living body part down to the finest detail?
She’d gone for a look meant to emphasize Drak’s prowess. Gladiatorial armor from ancient Earth had served as a core inspiration—she thought it was fitting, given his history—but she’d added a few special touches to make it unique. It sported some of the sleeker designs evident in many of Arcanthus’s prostheses, but had a traditional flare in the subtle patterns she’d had etched into the dark metal, all of which were based on Azheran art.
Drakkal raised his new hand and turned it, examining it front and back. It was larger than his other hand, clad in segmented, gauntlet-like armor. His brow furrowed as though in concentration. Hardlight claws formed at the tips of his fingers, long and hooked like his natural claws.
“With a little practice, you’ll learn to alter them,” Arcanthus said.
Flexing his fingers, Drakkal dismissed the hardlight claws and turned his gaze to Samantha. “You designed this?”
“Do you like it?” she asked hopefully.
He stood up, pushing the chair away, and stepped to Samantha. For a moment, she stared up at him; he was about the same height as Arcanthus, but far broader. His expression was unreadable. When he leaned down and drew her into a tight embrace, she was caught completely off guard.
“Thank you, Samantha. For this…and for my life.”
Samantha smiled and wrapped her arms around him, returning the hug. Elation flooded her, spreading warmth outward from her chest, and tears stung her eyes. “I’d do it again.”
“But you won’t ,” Arcanthus said firmly .
She chuckled, turning her head to look at him. All three of his eyes were narrowed on Drakkal in displeasure.
Arcanthus stepped closer. “All right, that’s enough. Hand the female over.”
Drakkal laughed and whispered, “Run away with me, terran. I’ll treat you better than he does.”
“Are you looking to lose a few more limbs, azhera?” Arcanthus said. “I already treat her better than I do even myself. It’s impossible for you to do more.”
Samantha laughed and patted Drakkal’s cheek affectionally. “Maybe another time.”
Arc slipped his arm around her waist, wrapped his tail around her leg, and pulled her away from Drakkal. “No, not any time. You’re mine, Samantha.”
She grinned up at him. “Prove it.”
His answering smile was devilish and full of promise. He stooped down and swept Samantha over his shoulder, looping an arm around her thighs and settling his other hand on her ass.
She shrieked with laughter and pressed her hands against his back to claim some stability as he turned around. Shaking hair out of her face, she looked at Drakkal, smiled, and waved. “Enjoy the arm!”
Arcanthus carried her to the bedroom they’d been sharing while they stayed in this safehouse; everything was smaller here, but it didn’t matter, because she had him. She didn’t need a sprawling compound—though she knew he was preparing a new one for them to move into sometime soon.
Once the bedroom door was closed, Arcanthus tossed Sam onto the bed and lowered himself over her, caging her between his arms and wedging his hips between her thighs. His long, dark hair fell forward, and he stared down at her hungrily with glowing eyes. “So you need some proof, do you?”
Samantha settled her palms on his chest, curling her fingers in the fabric of his robe. Desire pooled low in her belly, sending a rush of heat to her core. “I mean, Drakkal is pretty hot with that new arm…”
Arcanthus pressed his lips together, closed his eyes, and made a sound partway between a hum and a groan. “All our worst habits have rubbed off on you, my flower. You tease me.” He dipped his head and brushed his lips over her cheek. His warm breath tickled her ear. “And damn if I don’t love it.”
She giggled. “You love it when I call your friend hot?”
He lifted his head and met her gaze. A new, tender light had joined the hungry gleam in his eyes. “I love that you’re comfortable enough to tease me. All I have to do is look at you to know you desire only me.” Shifting one arm, he cupped her cheek, brushing his thumb across the same skin he’d just kissed. “You’re still the same little flower I plucked off that Undercity street months ago, but you’re so much more now. You’ve blossomed and found yourself. And I am so much better for it.”
Her smile softened as she slid a hand up, lightly tracing his qal with her fingertips until she reached the dot on his bottom lip. “I did a little research about your qal .”
“Oh? And what did you learn? Please tell me you figured out how to turn these marks into an erogenous zone.”
She chuckled and shook her head. “I learned that the volturians take the markings of their mates upon themselves. Humans have a symbolic exchange, too, but it’s nowhere near as permanent, when we get married. We exchange rings and vows.”
His smile broadened into a grin. “Are you asking me to marry you, Samantha? Trying to tie me down?”
Her cheeks warmed, and she glanced up at him for a second before returning her eyes to his qal . “I…guess I am. That is…if you…” She grimaced. This wasn’t turning out at all how she’d hoped. “I thought with us being mates— ”
“Samantha Dawn Wilder,” he said, calling her attention back to his face, “would you do me the indescribable honor of becoming my wife?”
Her brows rose in surprise that was rapidly swept aside by joy. “That’s exactly how a human would ask…”
“You aren’t the only one who’s done some research, Samantha. And, according to my research, I would traditionally present you with the ring I purchased…but it was unfortunately destroyed along with the rest of the compound. I was planning to wait until we were settled into a more permanent residence to find a worthy replacement.”
“A ring doesn’t matter.” Sam smiled up at him through tear-blurred vision, taking his jaw between her hands. She couldn’t believe he’d already obtained a ring, that he’d already been planning to propose to her according to human tradition. “I would much rather take your qal .”
“Hmm.” His eyes swept over her face, and his thumb continued its lazy back and forth across her skin. “As flattered as I am by that, I don’t want my marks on your skin.”
His words struck her like a heavy blow to her chest. She turned her face and dropped her hands. “Oh.”
“Ah, Samantha.” Arcanthus grasped her chin and forced her to face him again. “I am not rejecting you. Sharing qal is a volturian tradition, one that my people abandoned long ago. And I am two decades removed from my culture, on top of that. I don’t need you marked as my property. When I look upon you, I want to see you , not a reminder of myself. I have mirrors if I want to see my qal , but there is only one of you. I want to see your face, your skin, your beauty.”
“I just thought…” She took in a shaky breath, and a tear fell from the corner of her eye to disappear within her hair. “I wanted to show you that I was yours. Always.”
“Ah, my precious flower. You show me every day, in everything you do. Every time you look at me. Every word you speak to me. Every little touch, every smile, every moment. As jealous as I become when other males look at you, I know you are mine, just as I know I am yours”—he moved his hand down, settling it over her heart—“here. There is much in this universe that we may doubt, Samantha, but you and me? We’re one of the few certainties.”
With a small sob, Samantha threw her arms around his neck and pulled herself up, pressing her mouth to his. Arcanthus groaned as he returned the kiss, his lips and tongue moving with hers in a sensual dance. He slipped an arm around Sam, holding her against him as he ground his pelvis between her legs.
A breathy moan escaped Samantha’s lips as delighted shivers stole through her.
“You never answered me, little terran,” he said against her mouth. “Will you be my wife?”
Samantha smiled, meeting his eyes as she pulled back. “Yes. Your wife, your mate. Yours.”
“ Mine ,” Arcanthus growled as he reclaimed her lips in a searing kiss. When he pulled away, he raised his torso and hooked his fingers beneath the waistband of her pants. “As my wife-to-be, you are to enjoy certain benefits. Terran traditions are not the only things I’ve researched.”
Panting softly, Samantha stared at him while he drew off her pants and underwear. Her nipples were hard and achy against her shirt, and her sex pulsed in need. “What benefits?”
Arcanthus grinned that devilish grin and lowered his mouth between her thighs to show her exactly what he meant.