VERONICA

"How is it?" I ask eagerly as he tests his new wing out. My hands are clasped under my chin and this feels like Christmas morning.

The big dragon noses me. I have not tried it yet. Give me a chance to fly.

"Well, you're stalling," I tell him, practically quivering with excitement. "Show off to the crowd."

Everyone's gathered on the beach to watch. For once, my flashy, showy Ashtar isn't strutting his stuff. He just keeps unfolding and folding his newly healed wing, testing it over and over again.

After resonance was fulfilled, I immediately wanted to finish healing my dragon's wing. Ashtar didn't want me to do it while we were hiding out in a cave, in case I overtaxed myself again, so we compromised and returned to the beach. I was touched to find that the others had set aside a tent just for us and decorated it with a few garlands of leather roses as a nice “honeymoon” touch. We were welcomed back with open arms and a ton of teasing, but it feels good to return. It feels like coming home. No one else has resonated, Willa and Gren are still hiding up in their cave, and Marisol and Lauren are still missing.

Some things change and some things stay the same, I guess.

There were a few questions about Ashtar's shape-changing, since he'd never explained it to anyone. I'm surprised that everyone takes it in their stride as much as they do, but I guess on a planet like this, given all the alien visitors that have shown up over the last while, you've got to learn to handle the hits as they come. Vektal's actually really pleased with Ashtar's dragon side, because he sees it as the ultimate defense of the camp. Apparently, there are these big bird things called “skyclaws” that like to attack, but with Ashtar in his dragon form, Vektal thinks we'll be unbothered.

Despite Ashtar's big words about not needing anyone, he likes to be important and needed. He spends a lot of time with Vektal, discussing the best ways to patrol and keep the Icehome village safe. No one's talked about joining the others in their village yet, and I understand why. There, we'd be more outsiders. Here, we're making a home for ourselves. I don't want to leave either.

Once we've settled in again, I waste no time in nagging—ahem, sweetly begging—Ashtar to heal his other wing. This time, I'm a lot more mindful of my own strength, and we heal one small bit at a time, scar by scar, taking hourly—sometimes daily—pauses for naps. I'm not thrilled at going so slow, but at least I'm not passing out all the time. Ashtar and I have discussed what we'd do and where we'd go if he could fly, and we've decided that we'd visit Vektal's tribe and see what I could learn from Maylak, the other healer. I've even started to put together a leather saddle of sorts, because I'm going to be a badass dragonrider instead of just hanging out in my dragon's claws. I haven't mentioned the saddle to Ashtar yet, because I don't want him to feel like he's letting me down if his wing doesn't work.

You forget I can hear your thoughts, my fires. You think I don't know about your saddle?

Shit. I always forget.

I know you do. It is adorable. He nuzzles my hair again and then flexes his wing once more. Will it disappoint you if I can't fly?

Only in the sense that I'll have failed you, I tell him.

You have never, ever failed me, Veronica. Never say such things.

But—

If you keep thinking along those thoughts, I will shift back to my two-legged form and lick your cunt until you scream an apology for the world to hear.

Yeesh. I can feel myself blushing. Fine, fine. There's definitely been a lot of teasing about the nocturnal (and afternoon, and morning) noises coming from our tent, but I'm getting used to that sort of thing, too. I don't even mind the ribbing, because I've got the world's handsomest alien for a husband and I've been well-pleasured every night. Kinda hard to stay mad when you're in a state of constant endorphin release. You get to do that to me if I get to do the same to you.

I like this idea.

I thought you might. I gave him a real, official blowjob shortly after we returned to the beach, now that I can safely “take his fires” and won’t get burned by the heat of his body. It seems that my own body temperature has increased to match his, because I’ve been wandering the beach in light layers compared to the others. At any rate, I can give Ashtar head as often as I want now, and since he tastes surprisingly like cinnamon and loves it when I touch him, it’s been…often. And it’s been a lot of fun. Even now, I’m getting all tingly just thinking about getting before him on my knees and taking him in my mouth.

You are distracting me, Ashtar warns.

"Well?" Bridget calls out from behind us. "Are we doing this or not?"

I love Bridget. I do. She's fun and funny and has a real optimistic attitude despite her sarcasm. But right about now I want to punch her in the mouth for trying to rush my dragon. She can't possibly know what he's feeling, the emotions in his head.

Amusement curls through my mind. I love that you get violent in your defense of me.

I just don't want anyone pushing you if you're not ready. You don't have to show off for anyone.

Don't I? They are all gathered here to see me fly.

He's not wrong. Everyone in the tribe has come out to the beach early this morning because they want to see Ashtar fly once more. Pregnant Angie leans on the arm of Hannah, and Harlow leans on Rukh. Liz and Raahosh watch with their arms crossed, whispering low to each other, and even the big red guys—the clones—have shown up, though I think they're watching Angie more than Ashtar. The humans are all huddled together, sitting on blankets as if this is just any other day at the beach, their eyes expectant as they watch Ashtar pace and test his new wing out again. My dragon-man is popular in the tribe because of his ready smile and bold teasing. The girls all love him. The guys get along great with him. I think everyone likes him more than me, and I'm the damn healer. I'm okay with that, though, because he's mine and he lets me know it all the time.

I know he's nervous. It's not like Ashtar to be nervous, but he is. Fuck them, I tell him. You don't owe anyone anything.

More amusement rumbles in my head. It is not them I worry about disappointing. It is you.

You could never disappoint me, I tell him fiercely. Never. I love you. If you need another week, another year, another lifetime, I don't care. I just want you to be happy.

The dragon moves back toward me. He lowers his head and noses me once more. I am happy. I am beyond happy. You know this.

I do. I pat the side of his snout affectionately.

He bares his teeth in a dragonish grin, and then a moment later, he's flinging himself into the air. Sand and pebbles spray everywhere, leaving me sputtering and the crowd squealing. I don't care, though, because a moment later, Ashtar's pure joy blooms through my mind.

He's doing it. He's flying.

I shield my eyes, looking up as he takes to the sky, going higher and higher as effortlessly as if he's always flown. How does it feel? I ask him, anxious and thrilled both at once.

Amazing. There's a little stiffness, but it's working itself out. Utter joy floods through his mind again. I'm flying, Veronica. I'm flying again.

You are, I tell him proudly, and wipe tears from my eyes. I watch as he sails around the skies, a golden gleam moving high enough to touch the clouds, then diving back down again. A few people behind us on the beach clap, and there's a lot of excited chatter as we watch him sail through the air, as effortless as any bird. He's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, and I'm so proud that I want to sob like a baby. I try to keep my thoughts bland, though, because I don't want to distract him from his moment. The emotions rolling through his mind are indescribable. There's sorrow and grief, elation and hunger and a driving, restless need to push himself. There's pride and relief and above all, complete and utter joy. So much joy.

Eventually, he begins a lazy circle back down to the ground. I want to ask if he's tired, but I don't dare interrupt this moment. If it's a muscle he hasn't used in a while, he just needs to practice it again. The important thing is that he can fly. Everything else will work itself out.

I remain perfectly still as he angles his wings and lowers his haunches, moving to the ground. He flaps them hard and then thumps onto the sand a short distance away. I wipe more grit out of my eyes, and when I open them, my dragon's changed back to his human-ish form, crouching, his hands braced on the beach, his head lowered. Oh. I immediately surge forward to his side, my healing instincts flaring. Ashtar? Are you all right?

He lifts his head and his eyes are shot through with pure gold. My big alien's arms lock around my waist and he buries his face against my chest. Veronica.

I can feel the emotion surging through him. I stroke his hair back from his face, mindful of the horns at his brow. Best day ever? I tease.

No. He looks up at me. That was when I met you.

Mine, too.