“Yes,” I gasped, wrapping my legs around him, urging him deeper. “More.”
He responded with a growl that rumbled through his chest into mine. The tip of his tail found the most sensitive part of me, pressing and circling in counterpoint to his thrusts. The dual stimulation sent sparks across my vision.
“Now,” he whispered against my ear. “The binding happens now.”
I felt it then. A small, sharp pain at the junction of my neck and shoulder as his specialized venom glands released. The initial sting transformed almost instantly into waves of pleasure more intense than anything I’d known possible. My entire body tensed, back arching off the bed as the euphoria crashed through me. Every nerve ending fired at once, my consciousness expanding outward and then contracting to a single point of connection between us.
Vuhr’s own release followed, his powerful body shuddering against mine, wings fully extended and trembling. I felt the heat of him spreading inside me, completing the biochemical bond that would link us permanently.
In the aftermath, we lay tangled together, his wings folded around us like a living blanket, his tail still wrapped possessively around my thigh. My body tingled pleasantly, aftershocks of the venom still pulsing through my system. I traced idle patterns in the fur of his chest, marveling at what had just happened.
“Regrets?” he asked quietly, a hint of vulnerability in the question.
I shook my head, nestling closer into his warmth. “Not a single one.” And it was true. Whatever strangeness lay ahead in our cross-species union, this moment of connection felt more right than anything in my previous life.
five
Sunlight streamed through high windows, warming the furs piled around me in a nest-like arrangement. I blinked awake slowly, my body aching pleasantly in unfamiliar ways. The events of the previous night returned in vivid flashes—the ceremony, the bonding, the intensity of it all. I stretched carefully, cataloging new sensations: the lingering tingle where Vuhr’s venom had entered my system, the subtle marks his tail had left across my skin, the changed scent of my own body now carrying notes of his.
I turned my head and found Vuhr still asleep beside me. In repose, his features seemed softer, the predatory intensity temporarily banked. His wings were partially unfurled, one draped over my legs like a living blanket, warmer and heavier than any Earth-made comforter. His tail had loosened its grip on my thigh during the night but still maintained contact, the tip twitching occasionally as he dreamed.
What dreams visited a Manticore warrior? I wondered. Did his kind dream as humans did, in fragmented stories and symbolicimagery? Or was it something entirely different, something I could never fully comprehend?
I studied him with the freedom that his unconsciousness allowed. The rise and fall of his broad chest. The occasional flick of his ear. The place where tawny fur gave way to the more delicate skin of his face. In the golden morning light, I could see hints of copper and bronze in his coloring that hadn’t been visible under the ceremonial lights.
He was beautiful. Not in any human way, but in the way that apex predators were beautiful—perfectly designed, powerful, dangerous. And now, somehow, mine.
A slight change in his breathing told me he was waking. His golden eyes opened, pupils contracting rapidly in the bright light before focusing on me. For a moment, neither of us spoke. Then his mouth curved into what I recognized as a smile, though on his leonine features it might have looked like a threat to someone who didn’t know better.
“You’re still here,” he said, voice rough with sleep.
“Where else would I be?” I replied, reaching out tentatively to touch his face.
He turned into my touch, a rumbling sound emerging from his chest that reminded me of a purr. “Some humans experience regret after bonding. The venom’s euphoria fades by morning.”
“No regrets,” I assured him, echoing my words from the night before. “Just adjusting.”
He nodded, understanding in his eyes. With a stretch that extended his impressive wingspan nearly to the walls of the chamber, he rose from our nest of furs. I watched, still somewhatdisbelieving, as my husband—my mate—moved around the room with casual grace.
“You must be hungry,” he said, pulling on a simple garment that accommodated his wings while leaving his chest mostly bare. “Wait here.”
Before I could respond, he was gone, leaving me alone in the sunlit chamber. I took the opportunity to examine my body in the clear morning light. Small bruises dotted my hips where his hands had gripped me. A faint pattern of marks traced my inner thighs where his tail had marked me with scent. At the junction of my neck and shoulder, the puncture from his venom glands had already closed, leaving only a slight discoloration that would fade to a permanent, subtle mark—visible proof of our bond.
I wrapped myself in one of the silky robes provided for guests of the Sanctuary Compound and padded to the window. The view revealed a corner of the grounds—lush gardens designed to accommodate various alien species, some plants familiar, others utterly foreign. In the distance, mountains rose against a sky that was almost, but not quite, the blue of Earth’s. A reminder that while this place had been made welcoming for me, I was the alien here.
The door opened, and Vuhr returned carrying a tray laden with food. The smell hit me immediately—warm, yeasty, with hints of spices I couldn’t name.
“You bake?” I asked, unable to hide my surprise.
His ear flicked in what I was learning indicated amusement. “Did you think we only consumed raw meat and the hearts of our enemies?”
“I—” I began, then caught the teasing glint in his eye. “Very funny.”
“Bonding bread is traditional,” he explained, setting the tray on a low table and gesturing for me to join him. “In the old days, when warriors would return from battle with new mates, the bread provided necessary nutrients for recovery.”
“Aftercare bread,” I murmured, settling beside him.
“Precisely.” He tore a piece and offered it to me. “It’s adapted to human digestion. I spoke with the nutritionists.”
