"Yes," I answer before he can ask, wrapping my legs around his waist. "I'm sure."
The first press of him against me pulls a gasp from my throat. He's large, intimidatingly so, but my body welcomes him with a readiness that would embarrass me if I had any shame left togive. His restraint is visible in the tension of his shoulders, the tight clench of his jaw as he works himself into me with shallow, careful thrusts.
"You feel like coming home," he murmurs, pressing his forehead against mine as he stretches me slowly, giving my body time to adjust to his intrusion. "Like everything I never thought I deserved."
I arch up, taking him deeper, and his control fractures. A groan tears from his throat as he buries himself to the hilt, and for a moment we're both frozen—connected, complete, overwhelmed by the raw perfection of it.
"Move," I whisper, digging my heels into the small of his back. "I need?—"
He doesn't let me finish, withdrawing almost entirely before driving back in with a force that steals my breath. His rhythm builds steadily, each thrust more demanding than the last, until he's claiming me with a primal hunger that matches the storm building inside me.
Yet even as his pace grows punishing, his hands remain impossibly tender—one braced beside my head, the other cradling my hip with a reverence that makes my heart ache. He handles me like I might break, even as he takes me like he's breaking apart himself.
"You're everything," he growls against my neck, his voice rough with emotion. "Everything I never knew I was hunting for."
The double meaning isn't lost on me, but there's no sting to it now. Not when I can feel the truth of his devotion in every fierce thrust, every gentle caress, every worshipful kiss he presses to my throat.
The tension builds between us, winding tighter with each roll of his hips. I'm climbing higher, faster than before, my body clenching around him as pleasure spirals through me. When hereaches between us, his thumb finding the spot where I'm most sensitive, I shatter with a cry I barely remember to muffle.
Domno follows moments later, his powerful body going rigid above me as he spills himself deep inside with a broken sound that might be my name or a prayer or both.
We collapse together, our ragged breathing the only sound besides the crackling fire. His weight should feel crushing, but instead it anchors me to this moment, to this impossible reality where I'm safe and loved and free.
Once our hearts slow, I pull him closer, uncaring of the sweat cooling between us or the various fluids marking our union. This closeness feels too precious to break.
"I forgive you," I whisper against the curve of his shoulder, tasting salt and smoke on his skin. "I love you too. I know who you are now—who you really are—and I'm not afraid anymore."
He answers with a kiss that feels soul claiming and I want to let him have it.
28
ESALYN
Morning brings with it a clarity I'd forgotten was possible. The light filtering through the cracked temple ceiling creates patterns across the stone floor—like secrets finally revealed after years of hiding.
Erisen sleeps soundly in the small alcove we've made into his bed, dark hair falling across his face, small hands curled protectively around the wooden bird Domno carved for him. I watch the gentle rise and fall of his chest, allowing myself this moment to simply breathe in the miracle of his safety.
Domno emerges from outside, ducking his large frame through the temple's entrance. His movements are measured, favoring his left side where the worst of yesterday's wounds still trouble him, though he works hard to hide it. The morning light catches on his horns, turning them from dark obsidian to something almost iridescent. Against his gray skin, the scars from countless battles stand out like silver tributaries—each one a story I'm only beginning to learn.
In his hand, he holds the bounty scroll that started everything. The parchment looks small and insignificant in hisscarred fingers, yellowed at the edges and stained with what might be blood.
"You kept it?" I ask, my voice quiet so as not to wake Erisen.
Domno's golden eyes meet mine. "I did" His jaw tightens. "But not for why you think."
He crosses to one of the candles, carefully lighting it. And then he holds the tip of the bounty scroll to the flame, letting it burn away on the curling ink where my name and crude likeness are rendered in heavy strokes. Five hundred novas for a woman and her halfling child. A price that once meant everything to him and now means nothing.
"It's over," he says, his low voice rumbling through the temple space. "Vorrak is dead, which means the hunt is over."
I watch as he holds the parchment over the flames. For a moment, he simply stares at it, as if memorizing the weight of his choices. Then he lets it fall from his fingers.
We watch together as the edges blacken and curl on the stone floor, the ink bubbling before disappearing into smoke. My name burns away first, then my description, then the reward amount—all of it turning to ash before our eyes. Something sacred lives in this gesture, a ritual cleansing more powerful than any words could be. Domno crushes the flames beneath his boot once it is done.
"I'm done," Domno says, turning to face me fully. The firelight catches in his eyes, turning them to liquid gold. "No more bounty hunting. Not now." His gaze flickers to where Erisen sleeps, tenderness softening the hard angles of his face. "Not with a family to lose."
Family. The word settles in my chest, spreading warmth through limbs that have known nothing but cold vigilance for so long. I don't speak—can't, around the emotion clogging my throat—just reach up and press my lips to his jaw, sealing the promise between us.
His hand comes up to cradle the back of my head, fingers tangling gently in my hair as if I'm something precious, something worth protecting. The strength in his touch belies its gentleness, reminding me of who he is—a predator who chooses, every moment, to be soft with those he loves.
