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WHAT IT MEANS TO LIVE

CEDRIC

There are no words.

Nothing will suffice.

There is not a language known to man or Arcanian alike that could possibly be capable of accurately conveying this feeling.

I thought I knew what it was to live.

Thought I knew it as a child, carefree and well loved by my mother and father in our secret life.

Thought I knew it while I was training day and night to be the champion I thought Havensreach needed, to prove myself worthy of winning the Crucible and the crown.

Thought I knew it when I gave up on the very idea of living at all in order to give that crown—and to give a chance—to Elyria instead during the final trial.

And I thought I knew it when we came together for the first time outside of Elderglade, when our soul-bond first sparked to life.

Truly, I knew nothing before now.

I was nothing before this. Right here, right now, in this moment, I am being reborn.

Nothing will ever compare to this, to having her over me and surrounding me, her very essence inside me, as I’m inside her. I drive my hips up, my cock thrusting into her over and over as she releases the most delicious sounds. Her wings—stars above, her wings—are fluttering, brushing against my arms as I wrap them around her waist, her back, keeping her body flush to mine as she rides me.

Her perfect breasts heave against my chest—I can’t recall when either of us discarded our robes, but they are both long gone now. Did I burn them away? My flame dances over us, around us, but it’s not scorching, not hurting. It’s celebrating.

Our union.

Our reclaiming.

Our life-bond.

Like the magic understands exactly what this all means, even if I’m still in the process of discovering it all for myself.

What I do know is that I meant exactly what I said, what I’ve always said: I did not live until I met her, and I would choose her again and again. We have chosen each other. Our lives are tied together now, and there is no end to me and beginning of her.

There is only us.

And stars damn it all if that isn’t the most beautiful thing.

Not more beautiful than her, though—my stunning, ethereal, perfect solimaeus.

Thinking it, acknowledging it, saying it feels so right. It’s like I’d been searching for that word my entire life without even knowing. Like I needed it to exist just so I’d have the right word to describe this moment, this feeling, this woman here.

Mi solimaeus.

Light of my life.

Love of my heart.

Soulmate.

I say as much down the bond, filling my words with as much love and adoration as I can. It’s still nowhere near enough, but as I lick a final drop of blood from the mark on the side of her neck, groaning once more at the sweet cherry-almond taste of her, I just have to hope she understands.

“I love you,” she replies, clawing at my back to draw me even closer. My cock is still buried deep inside her, the emotion pulsing through us both heightening every sensation. I can feel every quiver, every shake, and it’s all I can do to keep myself from falling right over the edge.