Page 103 of Beyond the Darkness

Kit’s smile widened as he stepped forward, extending a hand. “That’s us. You must be Willow Dawson?”

“I am indeed.” Willow’s handshake was firm, his gaze assessing. “Susan told me about your special request—dragonstencils with spelled ink. She also emailed me the sketch you picked out. I’ve prepared something you might like.” He gestured to some papers on the counter.

As they gathered around, Willow showed the concept he’d come up with. Connie caught his breath. The dragons were abstract yet expressive, each line flowing into the next with an almost ethereal grace.

“These are stunning,” Hudson murmured, tracing a finger over the design Willow had put his own twist on.

“I thought you might appreciate these. I understand the three of you are bonded, Your Majesty,” Willow said quietly. “Yes, Susan told me who you were. If you would allow me, I can weave in protection spells too.”

Hudson looked up at him with newfound respect. “You’re not just a tattoo artist, are you?”

Willow laughed softly, the sound like chimes in the wind. “No, I am what you might call a ‘tattoomancer’—magic and ink run through my veins as one.”

“Kage didn’t tell me this,” Hudson admitted.

“I only choose to share this with certain people.Youare a dear friend to the Elder of San Delain.Mydear friend, Susan, is part of Kage’s clan. So I offer this to you because I trust Kage and Kage trusts you.”

“And he trusts you,” Hudson said, nodding slowly. “You offer me something of great value.”

“I am pleased to see you recognize that,” Willow said, grinning.

“I do. Thank you. My mates and I gladly accept your offer.”

They settled on the final designs and discussed placement—inner wrists for visibility and intimacy. Willow prepared his tools, his hands steady as he began the enchanting process on the ink.

“Ready?” he asked, looking up from his workbench, where vials of spelled ink caught the light, shimmering with contained energy.

Connie nodded, excitement coursing through him as he offered his wrist first. As Willow began his work, a warm tingling sensation spread across Connie’s skin—not painful, but comforting and warm, like sunlight on cold skin.

Hudson and Kit watched intently, their expressions a mix of anticipation and awe. Each dragon took shape slowly and surely under Willow’s skilled hand—the lines sharp and precise, filled with deeper meaning and magic than any ordinary tattoo.

When all was done, the three of them examined their new marks that seemed to pulse with life under their skin.

“These are more than tattoos,” Hudson said quietly as they admired Willow’s handiwork. “They’re declarations—promises bound in ink and magic.”

Kit wrapped his arms around Hudson and Connie, pulling them close. “Now we carry each other not just in our hearts, but on our skin.”

Willow cleaned up his space, then turned to them with an enigmatic smile. “These will serve you well,” he said. “Bound by magic, protected by love.”

Even Connie’s eyes widened slightly when he saw what Hudson paid Willow. It was probably enough to cover the shop’s rent for a year. But in Connie’s opinion, it was worth every cent.

As they left the shop, happiness flowed through their bond. It was odd, but their connection seemed stronger. The night felt alive, charged with an unseen energy that danced through the air like the first breath of spring.

Walking back through the quiet streets of San DeLain, occasionally one or the other would glance down, just to look at his wrist, then smile. Okay, it was him. He freely admitted it was him.

“We should celebrate,” Hudson suggested. “Something low key, just us. Wish Embers was opened.”

“That’s not low key, mate, even if they were open.” Connie snickered. “Actually, I know just the place.” Connie led them down another alley lit by soft, glowing lanterns.

They arrived at a small bar that seemed almost hidden from the world—its door tucked beneath an overhanging willow tree. Inside, the bar was cozy, with an intimate atmosphere enhanced by dim lighting and quiet conversations.

They chose a secluded corner booth, ordered a round of beers, and admired their new tattoos.

As they talked and laughed, Connie leaned back and observed his partners. A lot had happened in a very short amount of time—but the most important thing was the threat to Kit was gone.

The night deepened as they lingered in the bar, reluctant to end this moment. It’d been a long time since they hadn’t had a threat hanging over their heads. But eventually, it was time to head home.

They stepped out into the crisp night air, the earlier energy of the city giving way to a tranquil peace. The three of them walked hand-in-hand to the SUV they’d driven into the city.

---