Page 33 of Echoes of Fire

I leaned down, brushing the faintest kiss against her temple. A small shiver rippled through her, but she didn’t wake fully, so I pressed another kiss lower, to the delicate line of her jaw, the corner of her mouth. Her soft scent filled my senses, tinged now with the unmistakable marks of me—of us.

She sighed, her lips curling into something that was almost a smile, her eyes still closed as though resisting wakefulness.My tail tightened its coil faintly, holding her closer, savoring the way her warmth fit perfectly into mine. I trailed my claws lightly along her exposed side, careful not to nick or scratch, though my instincts stirred sharply at the sight of her bare skin.

“You’re awake,” I murmured, my voice softer than I’d intended, vibrating low against her ear.

She made a noise between a hum and a breathless laugh, her eyelids fluttering open as her eyes found mine. “Barely.”

“You sleep heavily,” I teased, shifting my head so our foreheads brushed, my horns curving enough to frame her face without touching.

Her lips quirked, though her voice was still heavy with lingering sleep. “Maybe I finally found the right pillow.”

I swallowed, my claws stilling against her skin as I searched her half-lidded gaze. I wanted to ask her why this moment, why me, but the weight of the sentiment filled the space between us louder than any words could.

Instead, I let action speak. I dipped my head and kissed her. Not the fire of the night before, but something slower, deeper, a language closer to worship. Her breath hitched in surprise, but she melted into it, her fingers sliding up my chest to rest against one of the ridges glowing faintly at my throat.

I let out a low sound of approval, my palm spreading over her lower back as I pulled her closer. Her body responded instinctively, arching slightly into mine, her warmth soaking into my scales. My tail flexed again, securing her in a loop of heat and pressure that felt more protective than possessive.

She was mine, and everything in me wanted her to know it without question.

Her hands slid higher, grazing the edge of one nipple piercing before meandering up to curve lightly over my shoulders. The fire began to rise again, building as my lips trailed lower, testing the length of her neck to indulge in herpulse there. Every small whimper, every hitch of her breath flared the bond between us tighter, hotter.

“Rath,” she said my name softly, her voice somewhere between a warning and an invitation.

I pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, my own breathing heavier now, a faint growl slipping loose before I could leash it. “You taste like sunlight,” I rumbled, echoing what I’d told her the night before. A lazy smile tugged at her lips, though it faltered slightly as I traced the side of her throat with my tongue, unwilling to break the connection entirely.

My claws flexed faintly against her waist as I forced my breathing to steady, the bond humming between us taut as a bowstring. She was there, and I would indulge in her forever if it were only up to me—but it wasn’t. Not entirely. The council’s whispers, the scrutiny of the zealots, Krazath’s venomous words—they all lingered like shadows, encroaching on the sanctuary of this moment.

I kissed her forehead softly, lingering just long enough to imprint the gesture into my memory, before pulling back. “There’s something we need to talk about.”

Her eyes narrowed a fraction, shifting from the sleepy warmth of moments ago to something sharper. “That sounds ominous,” she said carefully, her voice tinged with curiosity but underlined by caution.

I sat up slowly, shifting her against me so she remained within my reach, still curled in the protection of my tail. My claws tapped absently against my thigh, weighing words against the storm beginning to churn inside me. “The River’s Run Festival begins in four days.”

She blinked at the abrupt shift in tone, her brow furrowing faintly. “Okay … And?”

I met her gaze, letting the weight of my own seriousness seep into the air between us. “It’s one of the most crucial eventsin Scalvaris,” I began, my voice low and steady. “It’s not just a celebration; it’s tradition, culture, strength. It’s … everything.”

Her brows arched at my tone, but she said nothing yet, her full attention now locked on my face. I hadn’t lied—she was perceptive, almost frustratingly so. I pressed forward before doubt could creep in.

“There is a … challenge,” I said, the words feeling heavier as they formed. “The Mating Challenge. It’s a trial set to prove the strength, the harmony of bonded pairs. Any warrior who has claimed a mate can participate, and to succeed is to remove doubt and silence whispers.” The words hissed through my teeth. “Like the ones circling us now.”

Her silence stretched just a moment too long for comfort, her expression unreadable. She sat up more fully, drawing the frayed sheet higher against her chest as if the motion could shield her from what I was asking.

Finally, she spoke, each word precise. “You’re telling me you want us to compete? Publicly, in front of the entire city?”

I forced myself to stay still, to keep my claws from flexing too visibly. “Yes,” I said. “Not just for them. For us. To solidify what we have—to showeveryone—what this bond means.” My voice softened slightly, though I knew my words still carried hard edges.

If this was the way to keep her, then I would do it. I could make sure she was safe. No one would doubt us again.

She exhaled sharply, pushing her wild hair out of her face with one hand. “Rath,” she began, her tongue catching her lower lip as it always did when she was preparing to say something uncomfortable. “Do you hear what you’re saying? This sounds … dangerous.”

“It is,” I admitted, not shying from the truth. “But you’re capable. And I would never let anything happen to you.”

Her head tilted slightly, her gaze sharpening to an almost surgical precision as she studied me. “This isn’t just about proving something to them, is it?” she asked quietly. “You’re trying to prove something to yourself.”

The words sliced through me. For a moment, I couldn’t speak, my throat tightening around the denial that refused to form. She didn’t give me the chance to find whatever honesty I could muster.

“Rath,” she said again, firmer this time. “I … I need to think.”

---