Iwatch the moon slide into place, its silvery light casting a soft ethereal glow across the damp draken field, where the grass still glistens with yesterday’s rain. The air is charged. Electric. A storm is coming. I can feel it. The draken can too. Even the insects humming in the darkness sound like a warning.
Unfortunately, the magic doesn’t much care for environmental convenience.
It’s almost time. Kai and Kyrian are already undressed, and paying as close attention to the moon as I am. Autumn said the timing was crucial because the moon's power would amplify our own. I can feel it already, the hum of lunar energy prickling my skin where she’d inked the runes, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
A gust of cool wind drifts through, carrying the faint musk of wet earth. The draken are restless, shuffling leathery wings in the distance, their calls sharp against the otherwise muffled night. I wonder if it's the coming storm they react to, or the magic that we’re bringing tonight.
Kyrian disappears into the tent and brings out Rowan. I brush my finger along her too warm cheek, my mating bond a raging, conflicting brew. This ritual we’re about to start will bindour essence. Hers and mine. Hers and Kai’s. Her’s and Kyrian’s. The mating bond can't decide whether it wants me to tear their throats out for daring to claim a piece of what's mine, or fall to my knees and thank them for keeping her alive.
It's irrational, primal, and it's driving me insane. Not that mating bonds are known for reasonableness. They're instinct. Raw and visceral. A drive to claim. Protect. Possess. And right now, mine is vibrating so intensely that I can hear its phantom music echoing through my veins.
“I wish we could ask her,” Kyrian says.
“We’ve not bothered to ask her permission for anything else, why start now.” That’s Kai. Because he’d rather get struck by lightning than admit that the tightness in his voice betrays the truth.
“You can hate all you’d like, Rabbit,” I tell Rowan, though I’ve no idea whether she can hear me. “So long as you are alive to hate me.”
So, status quo,Nyx says with a yawn as he, Arianda and Ulyssus land to form a large triangle around the spot Autumn mapped out for this. We won’t be in any shape to defend ourselves during the ritual, so the draken are being extra cautious. Or extra nosey.
Nyx huffs in my mind and hauls up his shields.
I strip off what's left of my clothes, trying to keep myself from scratching at the runes Autumn painted on me with some shimmering brew she concocted. The symbols itch like a colony of tiny insects crawling beneath my skin. I only pretended to listen to Autumn’s absurdly technical explanation, just enough to know that the magic infused symbols will act as both catalysts for the ritual and indicators of its success. If all goes well, Rowan’s magic will clear them from us.
I rather think Rowan’s being asleep or awake will be the indicator of success, but was smart enough not to ask clarifying questions from someone who seems to really enjoy educating.
“Did anyone get guidance more practical than let the magic guide your connection?" Kai asks.
“We are all naked in the moonlight. Do you need a diagram?” I wave a hand over my naked body and get a vulgar gesture in return.
“Time to move,” Kyrian announces, his attention flickering from the moon’s position back to us long enough to shake his head. As if he isn’t thinking the same thing I am. Namely, that it’s unlikely we’ll spend the night inspired to chant and write poetry.
Kyrian carries Rowan into the clearing, her hair spilling over his arm. The circle Autumn marked out on the grass glows faintly under the moonlight—just subtly enough that I can’t tell whether it's magic that blinks at us or just light reflecting off raindrops that still cling to the grass.
Then I step over the barrier and no longer have doubts over which it was.
The instant my foot crosses the boundary, the runes painted on my body ignite. My mating bond, that connection that I’ve had with Rowan for so many years before she knew me, riots awake, feral and unrelenting. Mine. Protect. Claim. The words aren’t thoughts so much as instinct—an ancient snarl buried in my marrow.
Kyrian kneelsand lowers Rowan into the circle’s heart. I press my palm flat to her sternum immediately, and I’m not the only one who is craving the contact. Kyrian’s hands are on Rowan’s temples and Kai grips her hips. The moment the three of ustouch her at once, the circuit completes—power snapping into place like a lock turning in its chamber.
My runes blaze hotter as a shockwave rips outward from Rowan, binding us in a single circuit. The force nearly knocks me back but I stay where I am, absorbing the excess magic that’s been killing her.
Heat lashesacross my skin like claws tearing just beneath the surface. I bite back a growl, but it still rumbles in my chest. The air tastes of ozone and iron, sharp enough to sting the back of my throat. Even the ground thrums, pulsing underfoot like a war drum.
Rowan arches violently, a strangled gasp ripping from her throat. My chest heaves. My grip on Rowan tightens, a promise that I will bear anything so she doesn’t have to. Kyrian gasps too and though Kai stays silent, blood beads on his lip where he’s bitten it.
In the back of my mind, I am aware that I stand on a ledge. We all do. We can still take a step back. But if we don’t, if we go forward, toward her, then there is no coming back.
Right now, in this moment, there is still a choice. And unless all three of us step off, then those who do will die. My heart stills and the night holds its breath with us, even the insects going silent.
Mine,closer, claim her,the bond inside me howls. And I’m in full agreement. Like without Rowan isn’t a real life for me. I don’t wait to see what Kai and Kyrian decide, I step off the ledge and cover Rowan's lips with mine.
She tastes of honey and citrus, the heat of her mouth contrasting against the chill damp air, intensifying every sensation. The first brush of my tongue against the ridge of herteeth sparks a flare of light behind my eyes. I can taste the coming storm in her. The lightning, and rain, and Rowan, all braided together in one unbearable mouthful.
She makes a small sound — a half-sigh, half-moan — and that response is everything.
The magic presses against my tongue like weight, heavy and insistent, as I pillage her mouth deeper. And as I do, as I savor her taste and offer myself to her, the torrent of magic assaulting me transforms. Pain dissolves into raw, devastating pleasure.
Stars. I suddenly understand what Autumn means about the magic guiding the connection. Because that’s exactly what it's doing now, herding and pulling us toward the only remaining outlet that can keep us from burning alive: utter intimacy.
