“And when you are well,” I tell her in the same firm voice, cutting off her protest before it starts. “I will lie down with you in the furs and take you as mine. We will mate until you carry my kit. Then, resonance will be sated. But do not seek to tell me that you are not mine yet. Because you have always been mine.” Her wounded eyes blink, and then she nods slowly. “Yours,” she whispers. “Always,” I growl back.
