Chapter 9 #2
She makes a sound low in her throat—half moan, half whimper—and the noise goes straight to my groin.
My hands tighten on her waist, grip probably too hard, but she doesn't pull away.
Instead her fingers tangle in my hair, tugging hard enough to sting, pulling me closer like she can't get enough either.
The kiss turns desperate. All teeth and tongue and barely controlled need.
I bite her lower lip, not hard enough to break skin but enough to make her gasp.
She retaliates by scraping her nails down the back of my neck, the sharp sensation making my dragon surge beneath my skin, demanding I shift, claim, mark.
I break the kiss before instinct overrides reason completely.
We're both breathing hard. Her pupils are blown wide, nearly eclipsing the brown of her eyes.
Her lips are swollen and wet, parted as she drags in air.
There's a flush spreading down her throat, disappearing beneath the collar of her shirt, and I want to follow it with my mouth.
Want to taste every inch of skin. Want to bite down where her neck meets her shoulder and complete the claiming that's screaming through my veins.
My hands are still gripping her waist, thumbs pressed against the strip of bare skin where her shirt has ridden up.
I can feel her pulse racing under my fingertips.
Can feel the heat of her body. Can smell arousal mixing with smoke and blood and fear, a scent cocktail that makes my dragon roar with possession.
Her hands are fisted in my hair, holding me close, like letting go might make this moment disappear.
"Lila." Her name comes out rough, scraped raw by need. "Either you tell me to stop or accept that I won't."
"Why?" She doesn't pull away. "Because claiming me makes you vulnerable? Because Mikhail was right about love being weakness?"
"Once I claim you, there's no going back. The bond completes. You'll be mine in ways that transcend human marriage or partnership. Other shifters will know, especially dragons. Mikhail will know. You'll have a target on your back for as long as you live... and you will live a long, long time."
"I already have a target on my back." Her hands slide from my hair to frame my face, forcing me to meet her eyes. "Mikhail made that clear when he cut me to bait you. So the question isn't whether I'm in danger. The question is whether I face it alone or with you."
She's smart, brave, refusing to be protected from choices that are hers to make.
My dragon roars approval.
"With me means immortality. The claiming bite rewrites and overrides your DNA and you become a dragon-shifter. Faster healing, longer life, abilities humans don't have. But you lose your humanity."
She's quiet for a moment, processing. Then she asks the question I've been dreading. "What happened to Saoirse? Did you claim her?"
"No. She asked me to wait. To give her time to understand what immortality meant, what she'd be giving up.
" The truth still cuts. "You have to understand, this was centuries ago.
Saoirse had no real understanding of immortality.
I recognized that, but in the end, she'd decided to leave everything she'd known behind and join with me.
Mikhail killed her before I could claim her. "
"So you respected her choice. Gave her time. And Mikhail took that from both of you."
The truth of it settles between us. "Yes."
"I'm not asking for time." Her voice is steady, certain. "I know what I want."
"You've known me for days. Saoirse had years to understand what she was choosing."
"Saoirse lived centuries ago, in a world where immortals were myths and shifters were stories.
" Her hands tighten on my face. "I'm a scientist in an age of information.
I've seen you shift. Watched you fight a phoenix.
Felt the beginnings of the bond lock into place.
I know exactly what you're offering and exactly what it costs. "
Smart. Too damn smart. She's not wrong.
"Mikhail will come for you."
"He already did." No fear in her voice. "We're stronger together than apart. You bring centuries of combat experience and dragon fire. I bring scientific analysis and disruption tactics. He wants us separated because that makes us easier to kill. So we stay close, we get stronger, and we end him."
Partnership. She's not asking to hide behind me. She's demanding to stand beside me.
The bond pulls between us, strengthened by contact, demanding I claim her before logic overrides instinct. My dragon is roaring, my control is fracturing, and Lila is pressed against me like she has no intention of leaving.
"The claiming is permanent. No going back. You'd be mine until death, and dragons are nearly impossible to kill."
"Sounds difficult to achieve."
"It is."
"Good." She rises on her toes, bringing her mouth close to mine. "Then claim me, Finn. Make me yours. Give me the strength to fight beside you instead of hiding behind you."
I don't ask again.
My mouth crashes down on hers, all teeth and demand.
This isn't the careful kiss from before.
This is possession. My hands grip her waist, then slide lower, fingers digging into the flesh of her ass as I lift her.
Her legs wrap around my hips instantly, and the friction when she grinds against me rips a growl from my chest.
The cave walls pulse brighter, bioluminescent algae responding to the magic building between us.
The claiming isn't gentle. It's a tide crashing against the shore, inevitable and destructive and impossible to fight.
Power surges through the bond, mine flowing into her, hers answering back with fierce acceptance.
Mine. The word roars through the connection.
Yours. Her response blazes back, no hesitation, no doubt.
But claiming takes more than a kiss, more than contact, more than mutual agreement. The full bond requires blood and consent and time.
I pull back before instinct overrides the choice she deserves to make with full knowledge.
"Not like this. Not running on adrenaline and fear. When I claim you, you'll be fully present for it."
Lila makes a sound low in her throat but doesn't argue. "Fine. But this conversation isn't over."
"No." I set her on her feet, forcing myself to release her despite every instinct screaming otherwise. "It's not."
She sways and I catch her elbow, steadying her. Exhaustion catching up now that adrenaline is fading.
"You need rest."
"I need answers." But her voice carries less certainty now, exhaustion bleeding through stubborn determination. "About the drownings. About what Mikhail was building toward. About what comes next."
"Tomorrow." I guide her toward the sleeping area I've carved into the cave wall, the nest of blankets and furs that's served as my bed for decades. "Rest first. Answers after."
She wants to argue. I can see it in the set of her jaw, the flash of scientist stubbornness. But exhaustion wins. She settles into the nest with relief, and her eyes are already closing before I finish arranging the furs around her.
I position myself near the entrance, close enough to watch both her and the darkness beyond. The storm outside has teeth now. Wind screams past the cave mouth like something dying. Rain hammers stone with percussion that sounds almost like claws.
The bond hums between us, new and raw and demanding completion. My dragon paces beneath my skin, restless, frustrated by the claiming that started but didn't finish. Every instinct screams to wake her, mark her, make the bond permanent before Mikhail can come back for what he couldn't take.
But she deserves better than a desperate claiming driven by fear.
So I wait.
Lightning splits the sky, illuminating the storm-wracked landscape for one heartbeat before darkness crashes back. In that flash of light, I see the burnt scar where Mikhail's ritual cave sits. Empty now. The phoenix gone to heal somewhere in the dark.
He's out there. Somewhere beyond the storm. Regenerating flesh and bone and plotting his next move. Learning from his failures. Building toward the moment when he comes back to finish what he started.
I bare my teeth at the darkness beyond the entrance.
Next time, I won't let him walk away. I'll rip out his heart and watch it burn to ash before his eyes close. Next time, he dies.
The storm rages. The bond pulses. Lila sleeps in my nest, wrapped in furs that carry my scent, choosing me despite knowing exactly what I am.
I settle into the stone, dragon senses extending into the darkness, and wait for the wounded phoenix to make his final mistake.