her with himself and wishing like hell he could take root inside her—for her as much as for him—but loving her even more, though that could never happen.
She might not realize it yet, or be ready to acknowledge it, but Lyndi would always be his.
With a sigh that sounded so content his insides clenched in response, she leaned forward to kiss him soft and slow, humming a little, the sound anchoring inside him, as though she’d tied her heart to his.
Wishful thinking on his part.
With a reluctant grumble, she drew back, expression turning rueful. “We should get back. They’ll wonder where the groceries are.”
No, they wouldn’t. In the middle of the night, between bouts of mind-blowing, soul-rending sex, he’d called in a favor and made Hall go get them this morning.
Hall hadn’t said anything then, beyond grumbling about favors needing a time limit, but Levi had no doubt the green dragon was storing up something for later. No way could he not comment. Probably when they returned, which just gave him another reason to want to linger here.
But Lyndi wasn’t wrong about needing to get back. With a gusty sigh, clutching her to him so he didn’t break the physical connection, still buried deep within her, he levered them both out of bed. Lyndi laughed as she wrapped her arms and legs around him to hold on tight, the sound doing something to his soul that was this side of pain.
Gods above. He’d dreamed of this. Had almost lost hope of this after so long.
Don’t lose her, his dragon said.
Yeah. No shit.
He walked them right into the bathroom where he turned the shower on extra hot, the way all dragon shifters liked it, and stepped inside. Only the friction from walking combined with the heat of the water, and already he was swelling inside her.
Lyndi gasped then giggled. “Again?”
Levi pinned her to the wall and pumped his hips, stomach clenching as he captured the raw sound of her moan with his lips. Then he grinned and pumped harder. “Again.”
Keeping his hands off her now that his dragon had staked a claim by fire—not a mating, but a claim—and he’d staked his own with marks all over her body, was going to be damn difficult. Leaving her behind even harder.
One day left.
It took monumental effort to shove the panic of that reality down deep. He refused to ruin this moment he had with her, here and now, to focus on a future so darkly murky with doubt.
It took another two hours before they finally arrived back at the mountain. He hated to do it, but they’d left one car at the grocery store, which meant going back to get it. Pulling in behind Lyndi as they finally made it home, he remembered to turn on his phone, which he’d shut off after his call with Hall. Only to have the thing light up, dings going off in rapid succession as a series of texts and voicemails hit all at once.
Hurrying out of the truck, he took one look at Lyndi’s face, pinched with concern, and knew she’d done the same thing.
Only she had her phone up to her ear, listening to messages as she hurried into the training center, through the weight room, around to the left of the lockers, past the bunk beds and into the kitchenette where she slapped a hand on the scanner.
“Dammit. I knew we shouldn’t have—”
He put a finger to her lips, stopping the words before they could hurt him. “Don’t say it.”
The earliest message had only been sent ten minutes ago. There was little they could have done, even here, and no message that the team had gone out was included in those he’d skimmed through in the seconds he’d had.
She stared at him as the panel silently whooshed open. Then she nodded, and he took his hand away. “Let’s go.”
Neither questioned where they were going. They already knew where the full team would be assembled. The war room or the large conference room next door.
Sure enough, sound filtered down the hall from the larger conference room.
Levi pulled up sharply as they turned the corner. “Holy shit.” A packed room…including Aidan and Sera.
Despite the immediate concern that had his dragon prowling in his head, Levi grinned. “Fuck, rookie, it’s good to see your ugly mug.” He wrapped the blue dragon, once one of Lyndi’s orphans, in a hug, slapping his back.
“You can’t call me rookie anymore with these pups on the team.” Aidan hitched a