Chapter 12
*** MARINA ***
She woke with his heartbeat in her chest.
Not metaphorically. She could physically feel it; the dual rhythm of Toren's cardiovascular system transmitted through the bond they'd activated in the warm pools.
Primary heart was steady, strong and the pace of deep sleep, while the secondary heart was slower, deeper with a bass note beneath the melody.
Both present in her sternum like a second pulse running alongside her own.
They were in his quarters. The prince's chambers were in the Colony's upper level, carved from stone and furnished with volcanic glass shelves and a sleeping platform considerably more comfortable than the guest wings.
His wing was draped over them, the membrane translucent in the bioluminescent morning light.
His arm circled her waist. His breath was warm and steady against the back of her neck.
Marina lay still and let herself feel everything.
The warmth of his body, the weight of his arm and the hum of the bond, steady and present.
It was a background frequency she was already starting to think of as part of herself.
Through the connection, she could sense his emotional state without seeing his face.
It was peaceful, content. It had the deep settled calm of someone who'd found what he was looking for and had no intention of letting go.
She pressed back into him, and his arm tightened. His breathing shifted from sleep to wakefulness. It was a change she felt through the bond before she heard it.
"Good morning," she murmured.
"Is it morning? I can't tell."
"My wrist link says six. Whatever that means on a planet with no visible sunrise."
"On Dobromia, morning is whenever the D'Karr starts sending messages. By that measure, we have about an hour."
He pressed his mouth against the back of her neck.
The contact sent the bond flaring with a pulse of warmth that radiated from the point of contact through her entire body.
She gasped; not from surprise, but from the intensity of feeling his desire through the connection at the same time she felt her own.
The two sensations layered on each other, amplified by the feedback, until his lips on her neck produced a wave of heat that made coherent thought difficult.
"The bond does that?" she asked, slightly breathless.
"Physical contact amplifies the emotional feedback. Touch becomes…"
"More."
"Significantly more."
She turned in his arms to face him. His blue eyes were half-lidded with sleep, his scales the deep rose-gold of their natural resting state.
The copper flush was already starting along his jaw which was the physiological response she was learning to read as desire.
It was the Weredragon equivalent of a blush that he couldn't control and that she found devastatingly attractive.
"Show me," she said.
He kissed her, and the bond turned the kiss into something that transcended physical sensation.
She felt his lips on hers and simultaneously felt what he felt; the softness of her mouth, the warmth of her breath, the pleasure of kissing someone he loved.
The doubled sensation was dizzying. She kissed him harder and felt the feedback intensify, a loop of shared feeling that built on itself.
She understood now why the Weredragons treated the claiming bond as sacred. This wasn't just a psychic connection. It was the complete dissolution of the barrier between two people. Every touch felt twice. Every emotion shared. Nowhere to hide, and no reason to want to.
They made love in the morning light of the bioluminescent panels, slowly and thoroughly, with the bond amplifying everything.
When she touched his scales, she felt what he felt.
She felt thousands of nerve endings firing beneath her fingers, a cascade of sensation she experienced as both giver and receiver.
When he touched her skin, she felt his wonder at the softness, the warmth, the alien texture that fascinated him.
She whispered his name, and through the bond he felt everything the name carried: love, desire, the fierce protectiveness of a woman who'd decided this man was hers.
He whispered hers back, and she felt his version: awe, devotion, the quiet disbelief of someone who'd collected artifacts from a distant species and ended up holding one in his arms.
The intensity built in layers. Physical and emotional, sensation and meaning, until the two were indistinguishable.
When the climax arrived, the bond carried it between them, and the combined intensity was almost unbearable.
Almost. They held on. They held onto each other, and the bond held them both, and the morning light pulsed around them like a heartbeat.
* * *
Afterward, tangled together on the sleeping platform with his wing over them and the bond humming in satisfied steady rhythm, Marina said, "We need to talk to your father."
"I know."
"About us, about the bond, and about the alliance."
"Can we talk about it after I've had breakfast? Emotionally devastating conversations with the D'Karr go better on a full stomach."
"We need to get there before the gossip does."
"The gossip arrived approximately twelve hours ago. Twenty thousand people, Marina. The surveillance guards on the night shift have certainly filed a report, and Auren has probably told everyone he's ever met." He sighed. "You're right. Let's go."
"I'm always right."
"I know. It's extremely attractive and deeply annoying."
They dressed. Marina borrowed a clean tunic from Toren's wardrobe.
Dobromian clothing was designed for Weredragon bodies, but the sleeveless cut worked surprisingly well on her frame, if a bit long.
She caught her reflection in the polished obsidian wall and saw a woman she barely recognized.
Not because she looked different, but because she looked happy.
Genuinely, uncomplicated happy. It had been a long time since she'd seen that expression on her own face.
Through the bond, she felt Toren watching her. Felt his surge of warmth at the sight of her in his clothes, in his quarters, in his life. The feeling was so unguarded and so sincere that it made her chest tight.
"Stop feeling things at me," she told him. "I'm trying to look professional."
"You're wearing my tunic."
"Professionally."
* * *
Boradrith was standing when they entered the audience chamber.
Not at the table, but by the window that overlooked the central waterfall, hands clasped behind his back, gold scales dull in the morning light.
The posture of a man who'd been thinking for a while and had reached conclusions he wasn't entirely comfortable with.
He turned and looked at Toren. He looked at Marina wearing his son's clothing, standing close enough to his son that the space between them was a formality. He looked at the bond that was practically visible in the air around them, if you knew what to look for.
"Sit," he said.
They sat. Their hands found each other beneath the table.
"I'm not surprised," Boradrith began. "I've watched you for nineteen days, and I'm not surprised. A father who didn't see this coming would have to be blind, and whatever my failings, blindness isn't among them." He paused. "I assume the bond has activated."
"Last night," Toren confirmed. "It's mutual, voluntary, and permanent."
"Permanent." The word sat in the chamber like a stone. "My son has permanently bonded himself to a human. The first interspecies claiming bond in Dobromia's history."
"The first acknowledged one," Toren said. "I doubt we're the first compatible pair. We're just the first to stop pretending."
"The distinction is politically irrelevant.
What matters is that the prince of Dobromia is bonded to Earth's primary representative on this planet.
Every decision you make together will be scrutinized for bias.
Every policy she advocates will be questioned for personal motivation.
Every moment of public affection will be analyzed by people who are looking for reasons to undermine the alliance. "
"They'll look regardless," Marina said. "People who want to undermine the alliance don't need the bond as an excuse. They'll find reasons whether we're bonded or not. At least this way, the commitment is visible. A prince who bonds with a human isn't hedging his bets on the alliance. He's all in."
Boradrith regarded her with the expression of a king who was being out-argued and who respected the person doing it too much to resent it. "You'd make a formidable D'Sharr," he observed.
"I don't know what that means, but I'm choosing to take it as a compliment."
"It's the highest one I can offer. My wife held this Colony together through three crises.
You remind me of her in ways I find both reassuring and alarming.
" He sat down. The act of sitting after standing through the opening was itself a signal.
The storm was settling. "The earthquake changed things.
My son tore through rubble to rescue humans. The Colony saw it. Khrelan saw it."
"Speaking of Khrelan," Marina said. "Has he…"
"Khrelan co-signed the alliance proposal this morning." Boradrith let the words land. "His version with the sliding-scale provision he developed with you. His note said, 'The human's framework is sound. My modifications make it survivable.'"
Marina felt her breath release. She hadn't realized she'd been holding it. Khrelan's signature was worth more than anyone else's on the council. The hawk signing the peace treaty was proof the treaty was honest.