Tiffany Roberts

“But you are not worthy, Zurvashi,” he said.

Not vrix, not animal, not spirit…what was she?

His.

“Sss-tay,” he hissed softly before slipping out through the hole.

“I am in Takarahl to serve the queen. I do her bidding. She keeps me where my skills are most valuable.”

“Perhaps she is merely aware of your many limitations. If nothing else, she’s always been a keen judge of a vrix’s capabilities—or lack thereof.”

All Ketahn did know was that he no longer wanted a life without Ivy in it.

“Ketahn, is something wrong?”

“Everything,” he said. “Everything but this.”

“You are alive. That is enough. We cannot help any others.”

Ivy glared up at him. “Why? Just because you say so?”

“Because I care only for you!”

“Ketahn, this is beautiful,” Ivy said.

“It is.”

She looked up at Ketahn to find him staring down at her, his markings glowing more vibrantly than she’d ever seen.

“It took me a long time to realize it”—he brushed a finger along her jaw, stopping it on her chin—“but it is very beautiful.”

“But I will drink from you again, my nyleea.”

He cared immensely for his sister and friends, but Ivy—sweet, fragile, compassionate Ivy—was his mate. She was his everything. She came before all else.