I watch with bated breath as Melchior walks out of the cell, his gait determined.

I want to run up to him immediately, but Drosdan told me to hang back for a bit, to give Melchior a wide berth as he recovers from being trapped in the bijass. I resist the urge to go to him despite how much I want to.

I search his face, trying to gauge his state. That moment of clarity I saw earlier has faded, but not completely.

And as I watch him, every part of me attuned to him, I see it start to come back again. It takes a moment, but when his eyes lock on mine once more...I know he's fully back. I can see him in there.

He stares right through me, all of his faculties back on line—and then some. I can feel him at the edge of my consciousness, a strong and steady presence. And maybe I'm wrong, but I feel like he understands everything, all of what happened between us and accepts me anyway.

I swallow, my throat clicking passed the nervous dryness. "I'm sorry," I whisper, my voice coming out hoarse. “Melchior...I'm sorry.” I pour all of myself into those two words. Not the apology that I expected to give him when I had the chance once more, but it's what comes out right then. And he doesn't reject it, though I might not blame him if he did.

Instead, he inclines his head, his eyes not leaving my own.

Cool relief flows through me at his acceptance.

I can't stay this far away from him a second longer. I close the distance between us. I know Drosdan is still there, watching, but he's almost a part of the background as I take Melchior's large hand in mine.

I only have eyes for him. He's all that exists for me right then.

But I want him alone. I don't want even a passive audience to this very private moment.

When I turn and tug him along, he follows easily. Drosdan doesn't object. Even he can see that Melchior is fully in control, that he won't hurt me or anyone else.

I lead him directly to the cave I've been using when I come to visit. I need time alone with him, time to connect, time to absorb that he's with me once more.

But once we're there, once we're alone together, Melchior takes the lead. He stops me, his fully lucid gaze meeting my own. Wrapping an arm around my waist, he pulls me down gently, lying down with me on the pallet already set up on the ground.

He still doesn't speak a word to me as he sets his mouth against mine, but he says so much with his touch alone.

I sigh, kissing him back, wrapping my arms around his neck, pressing my body against his solidness. A tear escapes and trickles down my temple. It's so good to have him back in my arms, so good to feel him against me. He breaks the kiss, his eyes soft as he wipes at mine. He doesn't cry. The Zmaj are built to conserve water. But I can see how full of emotion his gaze is all the same.

He reaches for my clothes, his hands gentle, reverent as he takes them off, kissing every inch of skin as it's revealed. I hum at the touch. It means so much. When he gets to the stitches that had to ultimately be placed along the deeper wounds along my side, he hesitates.

I have a moment where I'm afraid it'll trigger the bijass once more, take him back to that initial point during that battle that sent him over the edge.

But after that brief stillness, he just lowers his head and kisses the stitches softly, his touch even more gentle now.

Sighing, I relax back on the pallet, closing my eyes to enjoy the gentle touches, the soft kisses he lays on me. He moves down my body, kissing my hip, the length of my legs, even the soles of my feet. When he starts to make his way back up the inside of my thigh, I let my legs fall open.

Yes.

I want him everywhere.

He lavishes my core with the same slow patience, the same delicate touch, until my eyes are squeezed tightly shut, my hands clenched in his hair. I'm so close I can almost taste it, that delicious edge of pleasure just out of reach.

But I stop him.

This isn't how I want to get there.

Not this first time.

That's how it feels. Like we're having our first time all over again. He lifts his head when I tug at his hair, his gaze confused.

"I want to have you inside me," I murmur, tugging him up.

His face clears as he allows me to do so, helping me with his clothes. Once they're off, I can't help sliding my hands over all of that smooth skin, the soft scales, his wings...

I kiss my way down the strong column of his neck, down to his chest to nuzzle at the tightness of his nipples, past his chiseled abs that are somehow even more chiseled now after being locked up.

My hands settle on the thick muscle of his thighs, and I look up to meet his heated gaze. He watches me intently. I lean down to kiss the thick length of his erection, not breaking that intimate stare. It jumps at the touch.

Mmm.

Taking the base in my hand, I lift it up off his stomach and take it into my mouth, enjoying the way his entire body stiffens at the touch. Enjoying the power I have over him. I swirl my tongue over the head before taking him in deeper, enjoying the heft, the silky skin. I could touch him just like this for hours, watch the play of expressions across his face as he enjoys each touch.

I forget that I want him inside me, enjoying that moment too much, wanting to lavish attention on him—but he doesn't forget. When his thighs start to tremble under me, he reaches down to lift me off of him gently. I let him. Fair's fair after all, and I know I want what he does.

But he doesn't flip us over so I'm on the bottom, like I half-expect him to. He stays on his back and arranges me over him, spreading my legs over his erection. I bite my lip. Using one hand to brace myself against his hard chest and the other to grip him, I point him up towards my entrance. I'm so wet that I can feel it sliding down my thigh.

I still feel a hint of trepidation as the thick head touches me. It's been a few days since we've done this and it's always a tight fit. Melchior's hands tighten on my hips as I slowly push down onto him, my eyes automatically closing as I stretch around his girth.

Melchior's hand slides around my hip and to the inside of my thigh, his fingers finding my clitoris, already swollen and sensitive from his mouth.

I sigh as I lift up and push back down again, his fingers working their knowing magic. He knows just how I like to be touched now. Knows me better than anyone ever has.

It takes some work to get him in all the way, but I finally do, both of us moaning as I settle onto his hips. I feel so completely full of him, and I love it.

Opening my eyes, I brace myself on his chest and start to work myself on him, my eyes meeting his in the dim light. I keep the rhythm slow, enjoying every inch that slides in and then back out of me. I lower myself to my forearms on his chest, sharing a soft, clinging kiss with Melchior. With my mate. Even just thinking the word results in a burst of joy in my own chest.

My mate.

Melchior is my mate. I relish the word as my tongue tangles with his, as his length throbs inside me. As his consciousness flirts with my own, a warmth around the outskirts of my awareness.

It might sound crazy later or it might not, but I know we're connected beyond what I would have ever thought possible during my days on the ship. We're as close as two people can get. And I wouldn't want it any other way.

I break the kiss, my lips just barely brushing his as I continue to move on him, our bodies skimming against each other as I do. The ridges on his cock... My eyes almost cross as they continue to hit me just right. My movements start to lose their smoothness as I speed up, the climax building once more. Melchior tilts his head, kissing the side of my neck, my shoulder, my collarbone, his hands cupping my butt and steadying me as I move on him.

Almost...

Everything feels so good, so perfect after so much time apart...

Crying out, I stiffen above him, burying my face against his shoulder as the orgasm tears through me, my body shuddering at the pleasure.

Melchior groans underneath me, his hands tightening on my backside, his hips pumping up into me. I feel his orgasm hit him directly on the heels of my own, his body trembling against mine. I lift my head so I can see his face, his eyes, my own half-closed from my own climax.

He reaches up to cup my face with his hands, laying a gentle kiss on my lips. His eyes are so full of love they make my breath catch.

"Forever," he whispers, his lips brushing my own with the word.

I feel my heart swell in my chest at the word. Yes.

"Forever," I agree, dropping my forehead against his.

I've never meant anything more.