Chapter 33 Tyr
THIRTY-THREE
TYR
Idon’t sleep much that night.
Don’t need to—my body is satisfied in ways I didn’t know possible. But my mind keeps turning over the future, examining what comes next.
But they can’t reach us here. My territory is absolute—nothing enters without my permission. Nothing threatens her while I’m alive to prevent it.
We can prepare. Plan. Build defenses for whatever they send next.
And we’ll face it as one.
The word doesn’t frighten me anymore. Doesn’t carry the weight of weakness I once associated with it. Together means her sight and my strength. Her clarity and my power. Her truth and my violence.
We killed an executioner that had hunted me for ages. Changed the balance of power in the entire realm. And we did it because neither of us was willing to let the other die.
That’s not weakness.
That’s the closest thing to strength I’ve ever known.
Zephyra stirs against me. Her eyes open, find mine immediately. No confusion, no disorientation—she knows exactly where she is and who she’s with.
“You’re watching me again.”
“Yes.”
“Still unsettling.”
“You’ll get used to it.” I don’t look away. Don’t apologize. “Or you won’t. Either way, I’m not stopping.”
She stretches. Her body presses against mine in ways that make my blood heat. I respond immediately—apparently twice isn’t enough to dim the effect she has on me. May never be enough.
“Already?”
“You’re naked in my bed. In my territory. Pressed against me like you belong there.” I roll on top of her, pin her beneath me with my weight. “What did you expect?”
“A few hours of rest.”
“Rest is for people who aren’t trying to memorize everything about you.” I lower my mouth to her throat, feel her pulse jump against my lips. “I have a lifetime of learning ahead. Might as well start now.”
She laughs. An actual laugh—a sound I’ll never tire of hearing. A sound I didn’t know I wanted until I had it.
“You’re impossible.”
“Dedicated.” I nip at her collarbone. “There’s a difference.”
I take her again as the timeless light shifts around us. Slower this time. More thoroughly. Proving that I meant what I said—that I plan to spend the rest of my existence learning every way to make her fall apart.
Afterward, we lie tangled in each other. Sweat-slicked. Satisfied.
“This is the life.” I say it as fact. “You and me. This place. Whatever comes after.”
“Seems that way.” She traces a scar on my shoulder—an old one. “Any regrets?”
I consider the question. Think about everything I’ve lost and gained to reach this moment. The ages of solitude. The endless hunt. The desperate choices and the mating that changed everything.
“No.” The word is certain. Absolute. “None.”
“Good.” She presses a kiss to my jaw. “Because I’m fairly sure I’d have to hurt you if you said otherwise.”
“You could try.”
“I know where you’re vulnerable now.” Her hand presses against my heart, flat against my skin. “Right here.”
She’s not wrong. She is the only flaw in my armor, a piece of territory I cannot fully conquer, and it infuriates me.
But she’s also my strength. The reason I’m still alive. The reason any of this matters.
“Then use it wisely.” I catch her hand, press my mouth to her palm. “Because I’m not letting you go. Not now. Not ever. Not for anything.”
“Yes.” Her eyes meet mine. Steady. Sure. Knowing exactly what she’s agreeing to. “That’s why I’m still here.”
The light doesn’t change in this place. The silence holds us.
And we stay.
In the territory I built for hiding, now transformed into a home.
For both of us.
Yet one truth remains.
The gods are watching.
This isn’t the end.
End of Book Three