Tane washed the last of the soot from his chest, a pair of Arakid silk pants hanging low on his hips.

From the narrow, fur-covered bed in their room inside the Vilkas’ mountain, Kinyi watched him. Against all odds, they’d taken down the human army and sent Gideon to a watery grave where he belonged. Outside the walls of their room, the mountain buzzed with celebration as all the clans—Draqon, Vilka, Katu, and even the few surviving Hyla who had never wanted this war—came together in sheer wonder that they were alive.

Yet, inside their room, Tane could barely meet her eyes.

He draped the rag over the sink and braced himself against the stone basin. The muscles in his shoulders flexed from the effort, his dark skin gleaming like black granite in the light.

Kinyi wanted to wrap her arms around his waist, but she remained sitting. It seemed like, for him, the battle hadn’t ended when the Vydal had sunk into the ocean, sucking down that horrible, tasteless structure and the human commander who would have killed them all.

In his head, Tane still struggled.

But he hadn’t hurt anyone other than the enemy. His fire had been more or less in control the entire fight. And they were both alive to recall the tale. She couldn’t possibly think of any reason why they shouldn’t be drinking and laughing with others, besides taking a romp between the sheets.

They weren’t doing that either.

She’d put on her good pair of thigh-highs that she’d gotten on Earth and worn onto the battleship, and nobody would see her wear them. She sighed.

Tane turned around and crossed his arms over his chest, but he remained in the washroom. “Go on. I’ll be out in a second.”

“We both know you’re lying, so stop.” She shook her head at him. “What’s going on? What are you thinking?”

His expression darkened. Pushing off the sink, he walked back into the room and sat on the bed beside her. His weight made the mattress dip enough that she shifted against him, her shoulder touching his.

“I’m not staying.”

Her gaze flashed to his profile. She searched his face for all the words he wasn’t saying, but he wasn’t giving anything away. “You mean on Kladuu?”

“Yes.” His violet eyes met hers. “On Kladuu. I’m going home.”

She told herself the words didn’t hurt, because they weren’t a revelation. How many times had she told herself not to count on him staying? Kladuu wasn’t his home anymore. Earth was. Cyn City was. That dirty, grungy bar hidden in the shadows on a puddle-ridden street was his home. Just because Kladuu was hers—her entire heart—didn’t mean he would stay.

A person didn’t make a home, no matter how many fools said it.

And Kinyi refused to be stricken dumb by love.

“The Vilkas could take you. Noaz is familiar with the path through the wormhole.” She wanted the words to come out steady and calm like she couldn’t be bothered to care.

Tane nodded. He opened his mouth, but he must have thought better about whatever he was going to say. He snapped it shut and gritted his teeth.

Kinyi didn’t want to investigate too closely how he felt through their connection because he might sense her heartbreak. She blocked it with everything she had.

“Kinyi—”

“No,” she snapped with more forceful than she meant to. “It’s fine. I’m fine. You should go home. We weren’t that special. We just have really great sex, that’s all.”

“Because you can have sex with a hundred other attractive males once I’m gone.”

She snapped her focus to him, glaring, but he smiled softly back at her, his expression not quite reaching his eyes. Forcing herself to relax, she said, “I guess that’s true.”

“You can tell them all about the legend of the White Horn and his giant—”

“Okay!” she laughed.

She swung her leg across his lap to face him and pushed him back against the bed. Straddling him, she held him down, but he didn’t fight. He only stared up at her, his easy smile still in place.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, his eyes trailing down her scales.

Her heart pinched. The words fell off her tongue before she could stop them. “Not beautiful enough for you to stay.”

Her voice even fucking hitched like she might cry. And then her eyes were burning, and her throat tightened. With a growl, she went to jump off Tane, but he grabbed her hips and held her in place.

“Kinyi …”

She hated that his voice sounded like that. Like he felt sorry for her.

She tried to get up again, but this time, he twisted his hips and rolled on top of her in a motion so smooth she knew it was practiced. How many women had he done that to before? When he went home without her, how many women would lie beneath him, staring up at his wicked violet eyes, and feel their hearts beating out of their chests?

“Even if we didn’t have a connection, I would know everything you were thinking from your facial expressions alone. Never play poker,” he told her.

“Get up,” she snapped. “I’m going to go find a hot male to bed tonight.”

“No.”

She hissed at him. Before she could even lift her head, he had her wrists pinned above her head with one hand, his arm barely flexing with the effort. Did he always have to look so casually sexy? Her mouth watered, and her core ached with heat.

He stared down at her for so long that her surge of anger burned out to a faint sizzle. Then it disappeared completely. His expression turned sad and a little lost.

“What?” she asked so quietly it was almost a whisper. “What is it, Tane?”

She thought he wouldn’t answer. Finally, just as quietly, he said, “I don’t belong here. Not after what I did.”

The raw emotion in his words threatened to rip her to shreds.

He released her wrists to run his hands over his face and through his short hair. In the room’s light, she could just make out the fine laugh lines around his mouth.

“When will you forgive yourself for that?” she asked, pushing up on her elbows so she could stare into his eyes.

“Forgiveness is for heroes, Kinyi. I’m nothing of the sort. In this world, I’m better off a legend than a real person.”

She sat up and cupped his face in her hands, bringing her face closer so they were practically nose to nose. “All that guilt you feel?” She squeezed his face until he nodded in response. “Do you think it will just go away when you return to that shitty, smelly bar? Do you think you’ll be happy hiding from who you are for the rest of your life? Let me answer that for you. No. No, you won’t. Because I felt your joy when you were shifted. I felt your love for the air. Sure, you’re a little crazy, but so am I. Why hide from that? Why run away like a coward when you could stay and make a new legend for yourself?”

His brow furrowed. When she released his face, he took her hand and kissed her palm before returning her stare. “How can I make a new legend? How is that possible when all I’ve left behind me is a trail of death?”

Her eyes widened, and she waved her hand toward the door separating their room from the rest of the mountain. “Do you not hear that? That celebration? I guarantee if you walked out there right now, they would cheer for you. Unless they’re too drunk. These Vilkas drink some strong shit. But you saved a lot of lives today and almost single-handedly won an entire war. That’s your legend right there, waiting for you to take it.”

He considered her words for a long moment. Hope fluttered in her heart.

“A man is probably lucky to get two legends in his lifetime,” he said, his eyes trailing across her face, leaving a warm glow in their wake.

“Incredibly lucky,” she agreed.

“But,” he said, and her hope sank with that one little word, “the luckiest man would be the one who took you as a rider for life.”

She stared back at him, her breath tight in her chest.

“Legends aside,” he said, pushing his hands through the loose strands of her hair, “I would be luckiest to have you. I think being the male who mated the great, fearsome Kinyi is legend enough for me.”

Her heart was a wild thing in her chest. Her grin was foolish. “That would be legendary, but I’m not leaving Kladuu. Not for that soggy city on Earth. That’s not my home, Tane.”

He brought her in for a long, slow kiss, and she deepened it by opening her mouth for him. They kissed like they’d had their entire lives to learn each other’s bodies, to trace their favorite paths a million times. Kinyi pressed herself against him, already wanting his tongue elsewhere on her body.

“I love it there,” he agreed, pulling back from their kiss, “but I don’t think it will ever feel the same now that I know you exist.”

Kinyi brushed her lips against his, feeling her smile tugging at her cheeks. “I won’t ever let you forget either. I’m spiteful like that.”

He chuckled, and the sound rumbled against her chest, making her nipples harden. “Oh, I know. Trust me, I know.”

“Good.” She grinned at him.

Doubt flickered across his face. “I don’t know if I can live here at the hive, though. It … it wouldn’t feel right.”

Kinyi shrugged. She hoped her voice didn’t sound inappropriately gleeful. “We can pick one of the outposts as ours. Maybe close to here. The Vilkas aren’t that bad, and I think you would get along with the Alpha and his friends.”

“Zayd and Maxsym aren’t that bad,” Tane said diplomatically.

“Zayd has seen me naked. Multiple times. Usually beneath him.” She smirked as Tane’s eyes instantly narrowed.

“Closer to the Vilkas sounds wonderful.” He pushed her back against the bed, weighing her down with his chest against hers. His cock was brutally hard against her leg. She ground up against him. “And someplace in the middle of nowhere so you can scream as loud as you want.”

She nibbled on his shoulder, and her other hand squeezed the muscular swell of his ass. “Are you going to make me scream now, or are you just threatening me with a good time?”

He grinned at her like a demon with a secret. “After the next few minutes, the Vilkas will be talking about a legend of an entirely different sort.”

“Just a few minutes?” She laughed. “That’s all?”

“A few minutes with the White Horn is all you’ll need, my ice queen.”