Clare awoke with a start. She knew even before she opened her eyes and felt the emptiness beside her that she was alone. She also knew that as much as the idea might appeal to her, while simultaneously enraging her, he had not run from her again. She could feel him through their connection, and he had not gone far. She took a moment to study that connection. She had slept in his arms last night, formed a bond with a dragon mage that was, from the look of it, unbreakable.

She took in a deep breath and then let it out, knowing that he was aware of her and her thoughts. She could practically feel his attention, and more, she felt it sharpen as different thoughts ran through her mind. When she briefly considered going back to Seatown and giving herself a little room to think this new bond through, she felt his awareness of her sharpen, as if a predator had sensed prey on the periphery and focused on it. She suddenly felt very much like the little mouse he called her.

Well, that was unacceptable.

With a thought Clare shifted herself clean and clothed. Without really considering the matter she had formed her favored tunic and trousers that she had adopted from the Huntsman clan, liking both the ease of movement the well-loved leathers allowed and the protection from the elements. She had formed her sword at her side, the belt holding its scabbard just under her natural waist for ease of draw, and her bow and arrows across her back with the same thoughtless ease. Even the knives in her boots were habit more than anything else. She had not questioned all she could do until her time spent with the Mage of Seatown. But while they could transform into one animal and back to their original clothed human state, she had never seen any of them shift just into different clothes, or even clean themselves with a thought. All things she took for granted. Even Rhune could change his clothes at will. She had not known how rare her gifts were outside of their family and Dracon.

The first time she shifted to human, complete with clothes, weapons and her hair in her customary braid down her back, they had looked at her as if she had instead shifted into one of her mystical creatures again. She took a step in her brown leather knee boots and stopped to consider the ease of the shift. Not that it was hard for her to do such easy magic, but something was different inside her. It made her think of her sisters’ subtle transformations when they mated to their dragons.

Clare grabbed her braid and pulled it in front of her face to study the color: a subtle sheen of gold glimmer in the depths that had not been in her red hair yesterday. She dropped the braid and looked at the skin of her exposed forearm. She had to step out of the cave and catch the light before she saw an almost translucent shimmer that had not been there before. She was well and truly mated to a dragon, she thought. Later she would wonder about what that would mean to her magic, this influx of dragon magic to her blood, but for now, she had other battles to wage.

Do you see me as a battle then, little mouse?

The voice in her head was not exactly a surprise; she had seen too many dragon matings not to expect the mental link, but the feel of him...It was as if he was touching her again, like he had last night, as if every part of her were claimed and petted at the same time. It made her knees week and her breasts swell even as she tried in vain to form some kind of mental barrier between them.

He laughed at her attempt, and she felt it shiver over her nerves and reverberate in her core.

Well, this was not going to do at all.

He laughed again at both her reaction and her thoughts. The edge of naughty added to that dark laugh was almost too much stimulation.

Stop that. She growled it directly into his mind and had the pleasure of feeling his body react.

Why?  You like it as much as I do.

At the idea that he could read her so easily she growled. Just get out of my head. I want to think, and you make it impossible.

The arrogant bastard laughed again, this time more mocking than playful. It set her teeth on edge, but luckily left her lady parts alone.

Too late for second thoughts, little mouse. You made your choice, now you must live with it.

You mean I must live with you, don't you?  Her sarcasm was not lost on Theron.

This time it was his turn to growl. His answer rang with truth, and the man’s indomitable will behind it. Yes, that is exactly what I mean. I tried to give you more time and you would not allow it, so we will both deal with the consequences.

That had Clare's chin shooting up and her teeth grinding. Her temper flaring in a moment to critical at the memory of the mate sharing. More time? she growled back at him. Don't you mean you didn't think a little girl could handle the big bad, so you ran off without giving me the chance to choose what I could handle for myself?

There was a long silence and then she felt a heat at her back and whirled, sword suddenly in her hand without thought. It was at Theron's neck before she had fully turned. His eyes glimmered black fire down at her, but he made no move to remove the sword from his dark skin. "I am well aware that I nicked your pride with my worries for you."  His words were casual enough, in his deep gruff voice, but his eyes and hard naked body gave lie to his casualness. She did not need to look down to know that the man was rock hard and ready for more of what they had shared through the night. But she was not so easily distracted from her anger as that. Not with his dismissive words still ricocheting through her brain and setting fire to her already brewed temper.

"You are an ass."  She said the words distinctly and with bite.

"I am wounded that my own mate would think that."

"Everyone knows that," she said snidely. "They are just too afraid of you to say it."

He reached up and tugged a lock of red hair from her temple, pulling it from its precarious perch in her braid. Her sword kissing his throat he ignored completely. "And just think," he said softly, his words gaining more meaning from the warmth of his tone than the words themselves, "I'm all yours."  His eyes met hers and Clare felt her breath hitch and her temper transform to another kind of heat, which she valiantly tried to ignore. But she could not pull herself from the heat of his eyes, so she said what she had to say staring into that warm darkness.

"You underestimated me once."  Now her words were almost a whisper, her eyes locked on his. Somehow they had both moved closer, so that only the sword and her clothes were keeping them from being skin to skin. But this was important, and she wanted him to understand this if nothing else. "I can handle you being an arrogant ass, because that's just who you are. I can even handle your need to sacrifice yourself to save everyone else for the same reason. What I will not put up with is you assuming you know what is best for me and acting accordingly without giving me the chance to have a say in my own life."  She took a deep breath and lowered her sword, her eyes catching the thin trickle of blood that welled but did not fall where she had scraped him. She stood on tiptoes and licked that line across his neck in one quick kitten lick, her eyes returning to catch the green mage light flash in the depths of his. "Don't do it again."

It was the only warning she would give him.

"I won't let you go."  From the fire of his own warning she knew he understood her; he just did not truly know her, not yet.

"Then don't give me a reason to leave."

With a growl he swooped down and kissed her, sealing her lips with his own. Clare knew that he wanted to taste her, but she also knew from the hard strength of his hands that clasped her to him and held tight, he also wanted to stop her words. To say he did not like what she was warning him of was akin to saying the storm they had created on the beach the night before was a small downpour.

She heard the thunder boom above them and wondered if they would cause storms every time they touched, or just when her mate was feeling particularly frisky. It was a question for another day, because right now with the wind whipping around them and her mate’s heat folding over her, his lips and tongue and teeth laying claim to her once again, she was suddenly past caring about anything else but heat and friction.

A loud caw broke the silence and with a foul curse the likes of which had Clare blinking up at Theron’s enraged face, they both turned as one to look at the over-large Eagle through the pouring rain and cracks of lightning.

Theron looked at Archer in his animal form and with a thought the weather around them cleared to a slight drizzle. The wind continued to whip around them, playing around him and his mate like a tickling breeze, until she had to grab her suddenly unbound hair and give him a glare as she tried to bring it to order. That he had no control over. The wind liked him, and now by extension had claimed his mate as well, so they would both have to deal with it. And truthfully, he liked her hair down just fine, especially when he could feel it fluttering over his skin with each passing breeze, of which there were many.

"For a man who attempted to orchestrate a claiming, I find it strange that you would then disrupt the mating celebration."

Archer transformed into his warrior form, fully clothed and armed as was his usual practice. The warrior did not bother to argue that it was Cree's doing, not his. One did not argue with the Lord of Seatown when he was in this mood. He was also very careful to keep his eyes off Clare.

Which was good, Theron thought. He would hate to have to kill one of his oldest friends. She might be fully clothed but with her hair down and her clothes plastered wetly to her small, curvy body she was not a sight for any eyes but his.

"Your sister sent another message to Seatown for you."

Theron narrowed his eyes and looked even less happy. "I bet she did," he muttered, thinking as he did that if she sent another cryptic message crowing over his mating he would make a special trip to Dracon to strangle her, sister or no. He held out his hand. "Let's have it," he barked. "Then you can return to Seatown and inform the steward that I and my lady wife will be returning tomorrow or the day after at the latest."  He had no intention of sharing Clare with anyone before that.

Archer cleared his throat. "You may need to return before then, my Lord. The message is at Seatown."

Theron narrowed his eyes, having a very bad feeling. "Why?"

"Your sister brought the message herself."  Archer shrugged a massive shoulder. "The Lady Asha, her mate the Lord of the Hunt, and General Solan Fire-Eater await you in Seatown, along with our other visitors."

"Not," Clare said with a fair twinkle of humor in her voice and eyes when he looked down at her, "exactly guests you can ignore."  That she was enjoying his consternation he had no doubt. It made him want to bite her and bedamn the rest of them. But she was right about that. His sister and her mate might occasionally visit Seatown, but with the commander of the Knights of The Light with them, and at this moment, when his sister had to know what was happening between him and Clare, and as the seer she would know now was not a good time for a visit… No, as much as he would like to ignore the summons and keep his bride to himself for a bit of time, that was not a group of visitors he would or could ignore.

He cursed loudly and openly. His mate just laughed at him, then took a running leap and hit the sky as a winged griffin, changing in the air and making it look both effortless and astoundingly graceful.

He did not look away from her even when Archer spoke again, naked envy in his voice. "The things that woman can do," he said, the admiration coming through as clear as the envy. Theron might have taken exception, but he was nearly positive the greed in that voice was for the powers she possessed, and not for Clare the woman. Though he could not blame the man for his envy in either case.

He was still watching her, awed by her abilities, when he felt another laugh in his head. Coming, big bad?  Or should I talk to the dragons without you?

Theron shifted to his dragon form and flew to catch up, aware as he did that Archer had shifted nearly as gracefully as his mate and was following. He tapped into the wind to both slow down his mate, who rode the thermals, and to speed up his own progress. She gave him a belligerent look from alien gold griffin eyes, but she settled down once they were close enough to ride the same winds.

She was right about one thing, he thought as they made the short journey home. He had been a fool to underestimate her. She was more than a match for any dragon or mage.

But then it was not the dragon or the mage part of himself that he was worried about.

Finding his mate might have tamed his crazed dragon and soothed the wind magic inside him, but what of that dark core the blood stone had left behind that had caused the problems to begin with? How long before it took him over again?  How long before it touched the gentle, clean fire of his mate? 

Theron thought of the bond between them and vowed then and there that whatever it took, he would never allow such darkness to touch Clare. He would carve out his own heart again and again before he allowed that to happen. After all, he had done it for her once, and that was before she had shined her light fully on him. Now, there was nothing he would not do to keep that light safe, even from himself.