Page 155 of Ash and his Dragon

Beside me, Max stopped breathing.

“The bond can intensify awareness,” Ignatius continued. “Recognition often begins before either person consciously understands what they’re recognizing, and attraction between true mates can be extremely strong. What the bond cannot do is manufacture love where none exists, remove free will, or make a mate incapable of leaving.”

I looked at Max.

He was staring at Ignatius as though someone had just rewritten the laws governing his entire life.

“You know that for certain?” he asked.

“I do.”

“How?”

“Because mates have walked away.”

That got my attention.

“Dragons romanticize true mates,” Ignatius explained, “partly because most successful bonds are extraordinarily strong, but finding your mate does not guarantee a successful relationship. The bond doesn’t erase personality, trauma, incompatibility or choice. There are documented cases where mates refused the relationship entirely, delayed bonding for years, or eventually left because the relationship itself was unhealthy.”

Something loosened inside me, although not because I had any desire to walk away from Max.

It was knowing I could.

Ignatius seemed to understand exactly where my thoughts had gone. “Being Max’s mate does not obligate you to love him, Ash. You can tell him no, argue with him, leave the room, leave the relationship, or refuse the bond entirely. None of those choices cease to exist because his dragon recognizes you.”

I thought about Vegas and waking beside Max, already braced for him to make what had happened smaller because that was what I understood about how to survive. Instead, I’d told him I didn’t regret it.

Later, I’d asked him for space, and he’d given it to me even though I knew it had hurt.

Then I’d gone back. Not because he called me or cornered me or made some grand gesture designed to overwhelm every defense I possessed.

I’d gone back because I wanted him.

There had been other choices too, so many that they began lining themselves up in my head now that I knew what I was looking for. I’d argued with Max, avoided him, told him no, and walked away when I needed space. Every single time I returned, it had been because I decided I wanted to.

Then there was the clearing.

Max had stood in front of me in a body large enough to make every instinct I possessed question whether touching him was remotely sensible, but he hadn’t moved toward me or tried to coax me closer.

He’d stayed exactly where he was.

I had crossed the distance.

I’d asked, Can I?

Then I’d touched him.

Only after that had his voice opened inside my head.

Ignatius was explaining something about the physiological and magical changes recorded in bonded lifebound dragons, but I’d stopped listening because the answer I needed wasn’t sitting inside Doryu’s laptop.

It was in everything Max and I had already done.

“Mate.”

Max’s voice pulled me back.

He looked terrified.