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“Oh, fuck, Florence,” he whispered. He clenched his hands into fists. “It was beautiful. But …”

“But what?” My heart was breaking in two. “You don’t want me. Say it, then.”

“You think I don’t want you?” he cried. “I’m afraid to use you up. I’m a highblood, and because I am I don’t deserve you. I am beneath you in every way.” His voice was ragged. “Don’t you understand? It’s me who should be walking out into the sea. Not you. Never you, beautiful Fireheart.”

A sob broke from my chest. He reached out a hand as if to touch my face, then lowered it again.

“I killed him,” I whispered. “I ran away. I didn’t help.”

“You were just a child, my love. Just a little girl. You couldn’t help him.” His face was full of pain as he saw my own. “But you can help others now.”

I shook my head. “I can’t. Not without you. I’m nothing on my own. Just a frightened blightborn girl.”

“That’s far from the truth, Fireheart. Your heart is full of courage—or you would not rail against the injustice of the world or feel such pain.” He looked away, staring out to sea. “I have done terrible things. As a beast, yes. But as a man, I believe I was little better than a beast. I don’t deserve to be with you. To share this perfect bond.”

“That’s not true,” I whispered. “You’ve helped me. You’ve helped others.”

“Yes, only when you begged me. I did not offer my service unasked. I made you beg.” He shook his head as he looked down at me. “Look at you, shivering in the sea. You nearly died tonight. And why was that? Because of highbloods.” His face turned to disgust. “Always highbloods. We destroy all that is good, all that is pure. I cannot let that happen to you, Fireheart.”

“But it already has.” My voice was small. “That boy just now. I killed him. I wanted to hurt him.” I raised my hands and covered my face with shame. “I hate myself for it now.” My body shook.

“Fireheart, no!” The roar poured out of him. “Enough.”

His hands reached for me, scooping me up out of the water. He cradled me to his chest as I cried, wading from the sea and back onto the shore. Then he gently laid me down in the sand and lay beside me, pulling me onto his wing, against his chest. I let him. We stayed like that until my shivering had stopped, both of us silent. Above us the stars spread out, watching us, a dragon and a mortal girl.

“I did not mean to make you feel unwanted,” Nyxaris whispered against my hair. “Forgive me.”

I tilted my head up to look at him. “You came back only to save me. Not because you truly wish to be here.”

He sighed. “I wish to be here. I wish to be with you all the time.”

Something sprung up in my heart, hot and hopeful.

“But this … this can’t be. You deserve someone young and pure. Someone who is …”

“Not a highblood,” I whispered.

“Not a highblood. No one who is part of my race deserves to be with someone like you.”

“But it’s you I want. My heart only wants you.” He went very still, and my walls crumbled. “I need you, Nyxaris. Don’t shut me out. Please. Will you make me beg again?”

His eyes widened with shock. “Never.” His voice trembled. “Never,” he repeated a little louder. His hand came up, and this time it did not stop halfway. His fingers slid into my wet hair, warm against my scalp. He lowered his forehead to mine, his other wing curving around us. “I will never make you beg again,” Nyxaris whispered hoarsely. “Not for my presence. Not for my care. Not for my love.”

The last word landed between us like a hot coal. I wanted to pick it up with both hands and cradle it to my chest. But I knew how scorching the word was. How powerful it could be.

I sucked in my breath, trembling. “I don’t want to be afraid of the world anymore. I want to face it—with you.” His breath caught. “I’ve always been afraid,” I confessed. “I’m angry. I’m broken in ways I don’t understand yet. What I did just now, I’m ashamed of. I don’t want to be cruel.” I reached up, my fingers brushing along his jaw, marveling at the sheer beauty of this man. “But I’m not ashamed of wanting you.”

Nyxaris bent his head slowly, giving me every chance to pull away. When his lips touched my hair, it was reverent. When he kissed my temple, it was worshipful. When he pressed his mouth to mine, it was like a vow. “I will stay. If you will have me. But not merely as your shield—nor as your god. Let it be as your equal—however imperfect I am.”

Tears spilled down my face. I nodded, too full of emotion to speak. I could feel the heat of him everywhere. The quiet reserve of power that always hummed, just beneath his skin—or scales.

“You’re forgetting something,” I murmured.

“What?”

I arched against him, pressing my wet body to his warm one. “You haven’t fed from me yet.” Saying the words was excruciating. I was suddenly aware of my pulse. Of how close his mouth was to my throat.

Nyxaris stiffened. His wings flexed around us. “No.”