Epilogue
Drazien
I had spent most of my life moving through rooms without being noticed. Elaina had apparently done the same but had dedicated herself to changing that.
I stopped in the doorway and stared. There were books everywhere.
Not scattered carelessly. Elaina would never have tolerated that. They were stacked, sorted in some mysterious manner, and organized according to some system that made no sense to me but undoubtedly made perfect sense to her.
The pile of things I’d purchased during Khavren had disappeared, as had her containers that had sat against the wall for so long, replaced by evidence of my mate spreading throughout every part of the home I had once considered mine.
A folded blanket rested over the back of the new bench, three pillows had appeared where there had previously been one, and one of the small sculptures she'd admired during the festival now occupied the shelf where I normally left weapons that required maintenance.
I frowned at it, the tiny animal carved from dark stone staring back.
“That is not where that belongs.”
Elaina glanced over her shoulder. She sat cross-legged on the floor surrounded by her things, curls pulled away from her face in the braid she usually wore. Her expression told me she'd already decided I was wrong.
“It’s cute.”
My eyes narrowed.
“My sharpening stone goes there.”
One bare shoulder lifted.
“You have other shelves.”
She went back to what she’d been doing as if the conversation was finished.
“So do you.”
She looked at the sculpture, tipping her head.
“But I like it there.”
The bond pulsed with amusement even as I let out a low growl. She knew she would get what she wanted and had already won.
“You refused to unpack for so long…”
“And now I’ve improved this place so much.”
I snorted.
My home hadn't needed to be improved. It was on the High Ledge. It was one of the best in Korvashan, and it had been efficient. Everything had its place and purpose. Weapons ready for use, clothing hidden in trunks, and emergency food stored in the cabinets. There hadn’t been anything unnecessary or decorative.
I honestly hadn’t spent enough time in it to bother with more than the necessities.
Elaina had changed all that within days. It had gone from a place where I slept and kept my things, to a home.
A woven hanging now covered part of the wall. Scrolls occupied half the table. A second chair had appeared beside mine.
And the bed…
She had replaced almost everything on it. Had turned it into a true nest that carried the scent of both of us.
And I liked it.
That might have been the most disturbing part, but anywhere that held her scent would have felt like home.
“What are you doing?”
“Trying to make room.”
Concern bit into the contentment that had filled me.
“For?”
She gestured around herself.
“The new books.”
I stared, not understanding what she meant.
“There are already books everywhere.”
“Exactly.”
Her two-tone eyes lifted to mine as if I should be able to see the problem.
“Then why do you need more room?”
She gestured, drawing my attention to what was beside her.
“Because these need shelves still.”
I looked at the stack of leatherbound books, then the next. It seemed as if she had just as many piled beside her as there were scattered around my previously bare home, and not all of them were Morraki. There must have been some in her containers.
“How many did you buy?”
I hadn’t realized she’d left, and I didn’t like the idea of her going to the Markets alone. Even knowing there were less rebels than we’d feared, they hadn’t been eliminated yet, so she was still in danger.
Her brows rose and she gave me a look that said I was being stupid.
“You bought them.”
I sucked in a breath before crossing the room, stepping carefully between piles. It was true that I’d purchased almost everything she’d shown interest in, but I hadn’t realized there was so much of it.
“The Archives will reopen.”
Her expression shifted slightly and I felt the flicker of hurt brought by mentioning the Archives. I regretted reminding her even if the news should have been good.
Elaina sighed and glanced around the room.
“Eventually.”
She felt guilty for what had happened even though I’d assured her it wasn’t her fault. We’d chosen the Archives to keep others safe. Lives were more important than words that could be reprinted.
“They've already stabilized the damaged wall. They’re going to make another entrance.”
She huffed but still wouldn’t meet my eyes. Sinking to my knees before her, I reached out and took her chin, forcing her to look at me.
“Most of the collection survived. None of this was your fault.”
Sighing, the stiffness in her body eased and she seemed to sink into herself.
“I know.”
She said it softly. The damage had bothered her more than she'd admitted. I'd known it from the moment she'd seen the chains blocking the passage and she’d looked like she'd found a corpse.
Books were apparently almost as important to my mate as lives. Possibly more.
I reached into the back of my belt and pulled free the narrow wrapped bundle I'd brought home. Her attention turned to it the moment I released her chin.
“What is that?”
“Something they recovered.”
Her eyes widened as I held it out. She took it carefully, as if whatever was inside might break if she held it too tight.
The fabric came away to reveal a damaged scroll. One edge had turned black and dust clung to the hide, but it was still readable.
Elaina gasped as she unrolled the top portion. It was the scroll she’d been reading prior to the attack.
“It was on the floor near your table. The keepers were going to throw it away. But I told them you had been reading it and would want it.”
She looked at me, a crease between her brows.
“You know which scroll I was reading?”
I huffed, arching a brow as my lips twitched into a smirk.
“Of course I know.”
My tail snaked around her, coming up between her legs as I leaned forward. I pressed my palms to the floor beside her knees, dragging my nose up her neck until my lips found her earlobe.
“I know everything you like.”
She made a disbelieving noise, as if that wasn’t possible, but something warm moved through the bond. Not just lust, and more than amusement. Something soft and quiet that reminded me of when she wrapped her arms around me.
“Then prove it.”
There was desire laced through the challenge, and I was only too happy to meet both. Standing, I reached down to lift her into my arms, but she caught my wrist before I could.
“Thank you, Drazien. For everything.”
There were layers beneath the words. The bond carried them even if she couldn’t say it.
For remembering.
For understanding.
For encouraging something she loved.
I curled my tail around her waist and pulled her up, dragging her against me so I could breathe her scent in from the source, my arms wrapped around her.
“You don't need to thank me for caring about you.”
Her brow lifted.
“About me?”
“Rethari…”
She chuckled at my growl before gasping when I swept her into my arms.
“I was just wondering how long it would take before you said you need me.”
I pulled back to look down at her, the amusement draining away so she would know I was serious.
“I do. Always.”
That silenced her, and I enjoyed the rare victory until she smiled. Not the teasing smile she'd worn through most of our arguments, but something softer.
More dangerous.
“Good. Because I'm going to need another shelf.”
I stared at her, mouth hanging open even as my feet took us towards the nest.
“Another?”
She nodded.
“Probably several.”
“Elaina.”
I growled and she just laughed. That was apparently my future, arguing about storage and how many books she was allowed to fill our home with. I had faced Skarashk and Morraki alike, killed enemies with my bare hands, survived storms that stripped flesh from bone…
And yet I was losing territory in my own home to a tiny, curvy Human, who only had to smile to get what she wanted.
My lips twitched.
We spent most of the day tangled in the nest, solidifying our bond the way we should have when her heat had ended. When I finally let her out so I could feed her, we finished rearranging the main room.
Or rather, Elaina told me where to move everything, while I objected to every unnecessary change.
She ignored most of my objections. A shelf was relocated, a weapon rack moved, yet the tiny stone animal remained exactly where she'd placed it.
I would move it later, when she was distracted, and then wait to see how long it took for her to notice.
Eventually, Elaina sat on the edge of the bench and surveyed the results. Her satisfaction filled the bond, and it erased everything else, because it was all I wanted.
I stood behind her and rested my hands on her shoulders while she leaned her head back against my stomach.
“Happy now?”
Her eyes closed and her lips curled into a small smile that said this wouldn’t be the last time she got what she wanted despite my protests. Shaevrin had a cruel sense of humor.
“For now.”
It was confirmation that this wasn’t the end.
And that was exactly what I wanted.
Something inside my chest loosened. I hadn't realized I was still worried until the bubble of fear finally dissolved, because some part of me had still expected to wake and discover she'd changed her mind.
She had planned to leave once, and I knew being chosen did not mean I was entitled to remain chosen forever.
Elaina felt the shift and opened her eyes to raise a brow at me, but I didn't know how to explain that without sounding weak.
Straightening, she turned on the bench to face me.
“There are things I miss about Earth, but missing something isn't the same as wanting to go back. I know my old life is gone.”
The words carried a wisp of grief, but not the kind that weighed a person down.
“I spent so long thinking that if I could just return with something they wanted, I could make everything go back to the way it was.”
Her fingers crawled up my stomach to trace the mark she'd left over my heart.