I clutch the flower to my chest, rising swiftly to my feet. I have to find him. I need to tell him—everything. I don’t hesitate. I run. Thank the gods I hadn’t taken the time to empty my pack back at the guesthouse because then I wouldn’t be here with him. My Eryon—my mate?
The thought nearly stops me in my tracks. I want to call out his name but hesitate after he told me not to. As I run, I ponder Sita’s words. Since he told me his name, does that mean I am his mate?
Do I want to be?
The answer slams into me with the force of an avalanche.
Yes. YES. I want this. Want him. More than I’ve ever wanted anything.
The tunnels blur past me, my feet moving instinctively, carrying me through the twisting cave system toward the heart of the mountain. I should be exhausted. I should be weak. Instead, I feel faster than I’ve ever been. My body moves with a newfound strength, my heartbeat steady, my lungs eager.
Eryon.
The name beats in my chest with every step. At last, I reach the secret garden. The lush oasis unfolds before me, bathed in moonlight. The stars shimmer overhead, a vast expanse of silver and midnight blue, reflected in the rippling waters of the hot spring.
I slow, my breath coming in steady pulls as I make my way to the flower’s home. Kneeling in the soft earth, I take a shaking breath and press my fingers to the soil. This is it. The reason I came here. The key to saving my life.
I clutch the delicate petals, my heart hammering as I ponder the weight of my decision, weigh the balance of fate. For years, I have fought to prove my worth. To Ben. To the world. To myself. I have scraped and struggled, desperate to be something more—to be needed, to be valued. Loved. But standing here, in this sacred place, I realize—I was chasing the wrong future.
Not anymore.
I don’t need a lab. I don’t need a legacy. The truth isn’t a whisper. It’s an avalanche. It crashes over me, unstoppable, undeniable. I love him. More than my career. More than I love myself. More than my own life.
Ineedhim.
If I take this flower now and leave, I might live. But leaving is betrayal. And living without him is not life. It would be nothing more than shadows and darkness. He is my light.
Tears burn my eyes as I stare down at the flower, at the shimmering violet-blue nestled in my palms like an answered prayer. Then, with a shaking breath, I force my fingers to unclench.
Here it stays, and here I’ll stay if he will have me. For forever long I have.
With careful hands, I nestle the fragile roots back into the soil, smoothing the earth over them. Standing, I take a step back, smiling proudly at the way the plant looks like it had never been disturbed. Sure, the plants are promising, but here iswhere they belong. Not in a lab, stolen from their home and protector.
The air shifts. A whisper of breath skates over the back of my neck. A presence I have felt before, the day I came to this mountain and felt him watching me. Waiting.
Now, as the air stirs, and the weight of his gaze settles over me, I know—he was always meant to find me.
I turn slowly, heart pounding, and there he is.
Eryon stands before me, his massive frame silhouetted by the moonlight, his silver eyes blazing. I am both dreading and anticipating this moment in equal parts. Does he understand why I said what I did? Does he still care for me? Will he allow me to stay?
Before I can weigh the thoughts, he whispers my name,hisname for me, “Sruhnar.”
His voice is thick, strained, filled with something more than just longing. His silver eyes flicker, roaming over me, as if memorizing every inch—afraid I might vanish if he looks away.
The way he rolls therreverberates deep in my belly. He is standing so close I could reach out and touch him, can feel his breath coasting over my flesh, smell the crisp scent of snow and pine that clings to him.
My lips part on my inhale, trying to breathe in his very essence. I want to explain everything, clarify every word he witnessed, but he doesn’t allow me the chance.
He closes the distance in one swift motion, his hands fisting in my hair, his mouth claiming mine.
I pour my explanation, my apology, my hopes and desires into every touch of our lips which says more than my mere words ever could. My legs wrap around him as my hands sink deep into the thick fur across his chest, my fingertips seeking the unique velvet texture of his skin.
His scorching kiss tells me that all is forgiven. Every thrustand retreat of his tongue as it dances over mine tells me that balance has been restored.
“Mate me,” I gasp against his lips between kisses, feral with desire. “I want you at your wildest. I am not afraid.”
He slides me slowly down his body and sets me gently on my feet. He takes my face in his hands, locking eyes with me and declares, “I will be more beast than man. It will be raw, primal. This will not be any gentle lovemaking, no plant to ease the way. It will be a claiming. And once I claim you, I cannot, will not, let you go.”
