Page 106 of Forged in Fire
Soul to soul. Fire to fire. Dragon to dragon.
Perfect. This is perfect, and it’s ours.
But the bond demands more than physical union. Demands the claiming that makes a mate bond permanent.
The urge builds as we continue to move together, as her nails rake down my shoulders and her breath comes in short gasps against my throat. Instinct older than conscious thought, deeper than training, stronger than any force I’ve ever encountered.
“Iris…” I groan her name, not sure how to voice this overwhelming need.
She understands without explanation. Turns her head, bares the column of her neck in an offering that makes every predatory instinct I possess roar to life.
“Do it,” she breathes. “Mark me. Make me yours.”
The last thread of my restraint snaps.
My teeth find the join of neck and shoulder, piercing skin that tastes of fire and magic and everything I’ve ever wanted. Blood flows across my tongue—hot, sweet, branded with power that makes every cell in my body sing recognition.
She cries out, back bowing as the bond flares to life between us. Not just physical pleasure now, but connection that transcends flesh. I can feel her heartbeat as if it were my own, taste the emotions flooding through her system—love, need, completion… mine.
Her own teeth find my throat seconds later, claiming me with the same desperate hunger. Pain and pleasure blur together as she marks me permanently, seals what we’ve begun with blood and shadows and dragon fire burning between us.
The bond snaps into place with physical force that makes the walls shudder.
Power floods through us both—her shadows amplifying my fire until flames dance through darkness like living things. Our separate abilities merge into something new, something that belongs to neither of us individually but both of us together.
When the feeding frenzy of sensation finally crests, when we collapse against each other, breathing hard and marked with each other’s blood, the silence carries a different quality.
Permanent. Sacred. Unbreakable.
I roll to my side, pulling her with me so her head rests on my chest. Her fingers trace the bite mark she left on my throat—a perfect crescent that will scar, that will mark me as claimed for anyone with eyes to see.
Good. Let them see. Let everyone know I belong to her now.
And always.
“How do you feel?” I ask, voice still rough from what we’ve shared.
She tilts her head to look at me, and I can see the bond reflected in her eyes—gold threads woven through copper, connecting us in ways that go deeper than blood.
“Different. Connected.” Her lips curve in a smile that makes my chest tight. “Complete.”
I understand. The hunger that’s been eating at me since Romania is gone, replaced by satisfaction that settles into my bones. She’s here, alive, mine in ways that transcend legal or social bonds. The mate bond ensures we’ll always be able to find each other, feel each other’s emotions, share strength when one of us weakens.
Her fingers continue to trace the mark on my shoulder, and I feel the echo of her touch through our new connection.
“No going back now,” she murmurs.
“No,” I agree. “No going back.”
The admission should terrify me. I’ve spent my adult life avoiding attachments, keeping connections superficial and temporary. But lying here with her heartbeat steady against my ribs and her shadows twined with my fire, forever doesn’t feel like a trap.
It feels like freedom.
“I love you,” I tell her impulsively, realizing these are words I’ve never said to anyone before. Never had reason to.
“I know,” she whispers. “I feel it…” Her lips curl up. “I love you too.”
Her hand slides down my chest, fingernails grazing sensitive skin, and heat stirs again despite everything we’ve just shared. The mate bond ensures we’ll always want each other like this—not just physically, but with every cell, every breath, every beat of our hearts.
