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The rhythm builds naturally, my body remembering pleasures long denied. He rises to meet the movement of my hips, matching me perfectly. As if we’ve done this dance a thousand times.

“Look at me,” he commands softly.

I open eyes I hadn’t realized I’d closed, finding his blazing with inhuman fire. The color has deepened to molten gold, dragon fully present behind human features. Scales now cover his chest, his arms, framing his face like living armor.

Beautiful. Terrifying.

Mine.

The possessiveness of the thought shocks me, but I don’t turn from it. Instead, I embrace it, leaning down to press my lips to the scales at his throat. The taste of him explodes on my tongue—metal and spice and something ancient that calls to the witch in my blood.

His hands slide down my back to cup my ass, fingers digging in as our pace quickens. Each thrust sends pleasure crashing through me, building toward a peak I can barely remember. How long since I felt this? Since I allowed myself to feel at all?

“Talon,” I gasp as the pressure builds, coiling tight low in my belly. “I can’t—I’m going to—”

“Yes,” he growls, voice barely human. “Come, Lila. Let me feel you come.”

The climax hits like lightning—white-hot pleasure shattering me into fragments of sensation and light. My body clenches around him, waves of ecstasy pulsing outward from where we’re joined. His name leaves my lips in a broken cry as I shudder above him.

Before the aftershocks fade, he moves with inhuman speed. One moment, I’m above him, the next, I’m beneath him, his powerful body covering mine. The change of position drives him deeper, drawing another gasp from my throat.

“Mine,” he growls, teeth grazing my neck as his hips surge against mine. “Say it, Lila. Tell me.”

“Yours,” I answer without hesitation, the admission shockingly freeing. After so long being owned, belonging by choice is liberation. “And you’re mine.”

Something profound and powerful rises between us—not just physical pleasure, but deeper connection. Magic and blood and bone recognizing each other across centuries of separation. Witch and dragon becoming one, as they were always meant to be.

His teeth find the junction of my neck and shoulder, pressing and then sinking in. The sting sends a fresh wave of pleasure crashing through me, another climax building impossibly fast on the heels of the first.

“Talon!” His name is a hoarse cry as he drives me over the edge again, his body trembling with the force of his own release. Heat floods me as he comes, his face buried against my neck, breath hot against my skin.

In that moment, something shifts—a seal closing, a bond forming. Golden light pulses from him, meeting the Shard’s crimson glow where it rests on the bedside table. The colors merge, wrapping around us like living flame before sinking beneath our skin.

The mate bond. Complete. Unbreakable.

We lie tangled together, breath gradually slowing, heartbeats finding a matching rhythm. His weight presses me into the mattress, but I don’t mind. After so much emptiness, being anchored feels like a blessing.

“Did you feel that?” he asks, his voice soft with wonder against my neck.

“Yes.” I stroke his back, feeling scales recede beneath my fingertips, dragon settling back beneath human skin. “Is it always like that? The bonding?”

He lifts his head, eyes fading from dragon-gold to human green. “I don’t know,” he admits. “It’s the first time I’ve felt this.”

The simple confession squeezes my heart. “Me too. At least, this kind of bonding.”

He rolls to the side, taking his weight off me but keeping me close. His fingers trace the mark his teeth left on my neck, a claiming visible to any with eyes to see.

“I never thought I’d find this,” he says, something vulnerable crossing his expression. “I had a dragon mate once… so long ago. Becca… In London…”

I wait, giving him space to continue or not. Some wounds need air to heal; others need darkness.

“They killed her,” he says finally. “The Syndicate. During the London Purge. I couldn’t save her.”

My heart aches for him. “I’m sorry.”

“I thought that was it for me.” His thumb continues to trace the mark, almost reverent. “One chance at happiness, gone forever.” His eyes meet mine, full of wonder. “And then there was you. Locked in that hellhole, but somehow more free than anyone I’d ever met.”

“I wasn’t free,” I correct him. “Not until you got me out.”

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