Author's Note: Thanks for the review, Singingsilent! Good questions. You're correct in Sleet needing more physical contact than other males whom we've seen. Is it because his mate is part water fairy, so she's more emotional than other fairies? Or because having a Bright Fairy sugar transfusion did something to him? Or is he just a big teddy bear deep down and Silvermist brings that out in him? :) We'll have to see.

I think early in the Milorian series there was mention that most all fairies get mates. The ones who don't aren't sad about it, though. That explains why we saw Clarion so sad in her trilogy—she was meant to be with Milori, but they hadn't found each other yet. Usually fairies find their mates early on, and there's a year or less in age difference.

Other than Rosetta/Sled and Clarion/Milori, we haven't seen other fairies find mates across the border.

Yes, fairies are born to be soldiers—attention to surroundings, extreme physical fitness, etc, are their talents. They don't have another job.

The only Bright Fairies we've seen die, besides the ones in the Alamur war, were a couple in the forest fire in the Milorian series.

Lord Milori entered the council chambers and gave the Queen a bow. "I received your urgent summons, Your Highness."

Queen Clarion waved her hand from where she sat at the table. "Cut the formality, Milori. It's only Silvermist here, and we slept less than three hours last night. I have fifty things to do before Fairy Mary brings Anastasia in for me to be a milk machine again."

She blinked.

The Queen leaned forward and patted her hand on the chair arm. "A baby is wonderful, but sometimes it'd be nice if someone would make up a bottle instead of me getting up three times a night to be a cow." She threw Milori a look.

He held up his hands. "You're the one who insisted on only nursing her for the first year. Even Spruce says human babies start eating baby food at six months."

"I'm not raising an idiot human, we're raising the next Queen of Pixie Hollow. Nursing is better for her brain," she snapped, clearly overtired.

Lord Milori raised his eyebrows. "Anyways, we're here to discuss what?"

The Queen nodded for her to speak.

"Instead of sending Pixie Hollow to war, what if we have earplugs so I can send Alamur into a trance. You mentioned that it's not wise for me to drown that many fairies, but what if we let the Creatures come for any who don't go into the water."

He blinked. "That's a bit...morbid, but I suppose it'd work." Then he pulled up a chair to the table. "How do we know there are more Creatures and that they'll come in time? And how do we convince Sleet to stay away so the Creatures don't get him?"

"If Sleet stays with me, I can keep the Creatures from him." After she explained the details of the full plan, he and the Queen looked at each other for a long minute. "Silvermist, did Sleet tell you about his battle plan?"

She shook her head.

He tore his eyes from the Queen. "He doesn't want lives lost on his account, so he proposed evacuating Pixie Hollow and leaving him behind to try to fight the Alamur."

Her heart shot into her throat. "You can't! He can't defend himself against dozens or hundreds—"

"We won't," the Queen cut in. "We rejected his request. But now with the baby coming, he's in a panic. I'm worried if he'll leave Pixie Hollow to try to draw the Alamur away."

Lord Milori shook his head. "We don't know if he and Silvermist can be separated for more than a week. He wouldn't risk her glow going out." Then he rubbed his chin. "But you have an interesting idea, Silvermist. Is there a way for us to catch and detain Creatures so we have them here and at the ready for when the Alamur do come?"

The doors burst open and banged against the walls. Sleet marched in, with three palace guards chasing behind him.

"Apologies, Your Highness, we didn't have time to announce him," Thomas, the Queen's head guard panted.

"It's alright." The Queen nodded. "Captain, I trust there's an urgent reason for you to barge in here."

Sleet gave a slight bow. "There is." He threw her a look before turning back to Queen Clarion. "If I may have a word with my mate."

"Right now?" the Queen frowned.

"Yes. I suspect she's here to discuss battle tactics when she was very clearly dismissed from participating."

The awkward silence didn't seem to faze the Queen and Sleet as much as it did Lord Milori and herself. Sleet simply maintained his military posture and waited.

Queen Clarion looked from her to Sleet to Lord Milori, with an eyebrow cocked in displeasure. "My time is being wasted then? Who here is the problem?" She looked around at everyone.

Silence.

The Queen's eyes landed on Lord Milori. "You didn't discuss this with your Captain first?"

"We did discuss it." He looked uncomfortable.

"I am," she blurted. All eyes flew to her. "I discussed it with Lord Milori while Sleet was in surgery, and when Sleet was made aware that I would be involved in the battle, he clearly rejected it."

The Queen's eyebrows rose. "Silvermist, you go through the chain of command. Unless if there's a grievous issue where someone's safety is in jeopardy by doing so, issues do not bypass straight to me—"

"Your Highness," Sleet cut in. "My mate meant no disrespect for your time, she—"

Queen Clarion's head whipped to him. "Don't interrupt me, Captain. I'm aware of that, and that is not the point I'm making. She also does not need you to speak for her."

The Queen sat back, crossed her arms over her chest, and pursed her lips as she looked from Sleet to Milori. "Sit, but both of you will remain quiet while I speak to Silvermist."

Sleet took a step forward to argue.

Lord Milori stood and yanked him into a chair.

Her stomach twisted in knots. The Queen didn't look happy, and Sleet's gaze could be felt burning from across the table.

"Now, Silvermist, I'll give you one minute to explain why you're going behind your mate's back, and why you're dragging the General and I into this domestic disagreement."

Biting her lip, she squared her shoulders. Queen Clarion was always fair, if she understood the situation.

"The Alamur know I'm a siren, but they don't know I'm a water fairy able to control the ocean. We lost dozens in the last Alamur war. Sleet doesn't tell me much, but based on what he does, the King of Horrors won't risk not killing Sleet to secure his throne. Sleet said today that if the Alamur find out he has an heir, they'll come after the baby. This isn't a one-time battle, Queen Clarion. They'll kill Sleet, and then in a year or two find out about the baby and be back. No one knows if the Prince of Darkness title would pass to the baby, but they'll want him dead just for being Sleet's heir. We have one chance to end this, a possibility without any lives lost in Pixie Hollow if I can draw them to the ocean."

The Queen frowned and then looked at Sleet and Lord Milori. "And what strategy is it that you want?"

Sleet's jaw muscle twitched in anger, but he clearly bit his tongue. "If I leave Pixie Hollow and draw the Alamur away—"

"With troops or on your own?" the Queen cut in.

He threw an angry glance across the table, as if he had secret plans that he was now forced to reveal and have rebutted. Then he turned back to the Queen. "I disagree with risking soldiers' lives, but if Your Highness would rather an army come along to ensure these Alamur are eradicated…"

Queen Clarion's eyes narrowed and she rested her arms on the table. "You can guarantee that not a single Alamur will escape our army to notify others what's happening? We know that more won't arrive a day or two after that battle?" She pressed a finger into the table and practically hissed, "Your job, Captain, is to do what is best for this kingdom, not your personal life. Do you think I wouldn't have done anything to not send His Lordship off to battle in the last war?" The Queen's glow tinted red.

Sleet didn't even flinch in the face of the Queen's anger. Rather, his jaw clenched and anger ignited in his glow around her heart. "It's a different matter when I'm sending my wife and son into a violent war. Do you think they won't smell that she's pregnant?" He practically snarled. "When I had Alamur sugar, I could smell a pregnant human twice as far as I could smell a Bright Fairy. Give it another couple weeks, and even I will be able to hear that she has two heartbeats." His eyes began to narrow with the depth of his rage.

He slammed a palm down on the table, anger twisting his face. "Can you promise me that if she gets that hot controlling the ocean that she won't burn up the baby or herself?! That she'll hold out long enough to drown them all or hold them until the Creatures arrive?! This is both my personal and professional opinion that there is too much at stake with this plan!" he roared.

Clasping her hands together under the table, it took intense willpower to stop her fear from reaching Sleet. No one yelled at the Queen. It wouldn't take much for the Queen to throw him in the dungeon simply to keep him away from the Creatures and execute this battle plan.

The Queen looked at him long and hard. Neither broke eye contact for four, seven, either seconds.

Without looking away, the Queen asked, "Your stance, General?"

Sleet broke the gaze, his eye flying to Lord Milori in a silent warning.

He heaved a long sigh and gave Sleet an apologetic glance. "Plan A is Silvermist's plan. We have the army ready to move in for battle on the beach if it fails."

The Queen gave a nod. "Captain—"

But Sleet stood so fast that the chair flipped backwards, and he stormed out with the slam of the door.

Queen Clarion met her eyes. "You do understand that I cannot be there to restore your dust supply? Sleet is right that there is a chance you and/or the baby won't survive. Being with child will drain your dust faster, too."

She nodded. "I'll talk to Healer Spruce and see if we can figure out my limit. It's the best chance of saving both my mate and son."

Lord Milori set a hand on her shoulder. "I'll do my best to keep supplying you with dust during it, but it's not the same as the Queen restoring you."

Clasping her shaking hands together, she nodded. "But, you do have a good idea about the Creatures being here already. Can we put them in the dungeon? They don't harm Bright Fairies, so it's only Sleet we'd have to keep them away from."

Lord Milori looked at the Queen.

"If there's a way to safely keep them here, I want the Creatures ready to destroy the Alamur."

Lord Milori nodded. "I'll check if the Keeper knows how, but I suspect only Sleet has that knowledge. And he's not going to be keen on giving it up."

"Tell him the Queen ordered it." Then Queen Clarion stood.

They both stood and bowed as she left.

Lord Milori turned. "Truth be told, if I was in Sleet's shoes, I'd be furious with you." But his voice remained gentle as he added, "The days ahead will be far from easy between you two. I understand why you're doing it, but I also understand why his terror will come out as anger. You must promise me that you'll talk to Spruce. The Queen only used her full power once during pregnancy when a fairy arrived with a cleft palate, but you're going to get far hotter than she did."

She nodded. "If he thinks it'll harm the baby, we'll figure out another plan."

Sleet wasn't home when she returned. He didn't arrive at sunset, either. If not for feeling his angry glow around her heart, worry would've gnawed that he'd left the lands to go find the Alamur.

At midnight, the front door opened and closed.

Pulling on her fuzzy socks and Sleet's robe since hers was with the silk spider for alterations, she peeked out the bedchamber doorway.

Sleet dropped onto the sofa, with his back to her. The rage in the glow around his heart didn't feel any calmer than at the castle.

Padding out, she silently sat beside him. He scooted over to leave a small gap and offered only his profile.

Pulling her hands into the sleeves, she set a hand on his arm. "First, we need to talk about us. No battle tactics, just us."

He tensed.

"We're both too sad without touching."

"I'm an Alamur, if you've forgotten," he snarled. "I don't need to touch—"

"I know you come in at night and cry sometimes. I can feel the darkness getting stronger in you, and I'm not going to watch you have insomnia and be tortured like this."

Silence.

"I cry at work so you can't hear," she added softly.

His head whipped to look at her, and the anger vanished from his glow around her heart. Concern took its place.

"I think we need to talk to Healer Spruce and have tests. For all we know, the baby got the darkness when he was made. But even if it was after that, you were able to heal him. If it's transferring back and forth between us, we check if healing once a day will keep him safe. We figure this out; we don't just avoid each other for the next year."

Hope bolted through his glow so fast and hard that she grabbed her chest and couldn't catch her breath for a moment.

He rubbed his own heart, which helped. When she caught her breath, he pulled off the eyepatch and searched her eyes. "If I'm not safe, you have to do what he says," he croaked.

With the giant robe swallowing her hands, she reached up and cupped his face. "I promise I'll keep our baby safe. And I'll keep you safe from the darkness. The price is never you, do you understand? I love you, and we keep trying things until we find something that works for both you and the baby."

His hand cupped over hers through the robe, and a tear spilled over his lashes. "I miss you so much."

"I miss you, too, but I'm still right here." Then an idea struck. "Stay here." Getting up, she held up his robe high so as not to trip while trotting to the closet where she dug out a winter hat she'd made him.

When she returned, he watched with a confused expression as she pulled it on. It sank so far down that she had to tilt her head back to peek underneath the rim to see him. Then she held her arms out, with the sleeves dangling far past her hands. "Hug me."

He burst out laughing, but quickly stood and wrapped her in his arms. "I love you."

Holding onto his neck, she pressed her cheek through the hat against his. "I love you. We're going to figure this out." The darkness already felt like it receded a bit from his glow.

He eased her down to sit in his lap and recline on her side against his chest. "Just for a minute. I know you'll get hot. Comfortable?"

Twisting to catch his right hand that wrapped over her wings, she tugged tighter. Then she wiggled down slightly to tuck her head under his chin, moved his left hand to rest on her belly, and slipped her arm under his to hug him. "Now I'm good."

The smile could be heard in his voice. "Good." His cheek rested on her head.

"Will you sleep in bed with me if I'm wrapped in the sheets?"

His chest rose and collapsed with a deep sigh. "It's not safe for us to both be unconscious. I might touch you."

"I fell asleep for a bit. What if you sleep and I stay awake—"

"No, you need a full night's rest so the baby doesn't drain you."

"What if you take the bed and I sleep on the sofa?"

He sighed again. "No, you're pregnant. And if the Alamur do come, I don't want you closest to the door."

She tried to tilt her head back to look at him, but the hat didn't move with her head—it slid over her face.

He laughed. "Don't move."

The hat tugged back in place, and she was tilted back in his arms.

A warm smile lit up his face as he looked down at her. "Yes?"

She grinned. "How about you at least sleep in the bedroom?"

"I'll concede to sleeping in the bedchamber, but on the floor." He rubbed her belly. "Have you had any morning sickness that Spruce talked about?"

"No. I don't like throwing up."

He cracked a smile. "I'm not so sure that you get to choose, sweetheart."

Since he didn't seem inclined to switch to talking about battle tactics, it was fine with her to leave that discussion to tomorrow. Lying back in his arms like this made the sleepiness return.

"Alright, it's time for bed."

The sudden, unexpected movement while almost asleep made her stomach flip inside-out. And right into her lap and all over his chest.

He froze.

Horror and then embarrassment slammed.

Silvermist suddenly burst into tears while he blinked, still trying to register what had happened. Oh Neverland, the sudden movement had probably made her nauseous. "Sweetheart, don't cry. I shouldn't have gotten up that fast. It's alright." This was a mess. Stripping down outside was probably the best way to go.

"I didn't even feel it coming," she hiccuped.

"It's alright." He opened the front door and went down the steps. Oh sweet Neverland, his own stomach was starting to roll just from the smell.

"I'm gonna be all gross throwing up all the time on you," she sobbed.

The last thing she needed was her emotions to go haywire again and need to be touched for healing that could harm the baby. "Silvermist, I need you to do something for me. I need you to calm down so you don't get overwhelmed again." He set her to her feet in the grass. Focus on her, just focus on her. Don't smell.

She tried to draw deep breaths as he pulled the hat off and untied the soggy robe. Her hair, however, was a lost cause. "You're never going to want to kiss me again." The poor thing burst into tears all over again.

"Silver, look at me."

Those brown eyes rose as tears streamed from them. She started to shiver from being only in a silk nightgown in the autumn night.

"I can't touch you, so we have to work together through this, alright?" Neverland, his stomach muscles burned trying to stop a dry heave. Focus on Silvermist, just focus on her.

She nodded. And then glanced down at his soggy shirt, and her face crumpled all over again.

"No. Silvermist, look at me. I need you to go into the bathroom and get showered. Just drop your clothes in the tub. Then I'm going to strip out here and put all of this in the wash and shower after you. I need you to help because I can't be in two places at once, alright?" Shit, talking about it was making the nausea worse.

Another nod.

"Alright. Rub your glow." He rubbed his and she thankfully rubbed hers, and her tears started to calm down. "Can you shower, and I'll be there in a few minutes?"

She nodded. But one big tear trembled on her lashes. "Are you still going to think I'm pretty when I'm all fat and throwing up all over?"

If that didn't put his heart in a vice—and not helping with trying to not get sick on her. "Sweetheart, I'm always going to think you're pretty, no matter what. The morning sickness won't last long, and you'll be beautiful with a baby bump, not fat. I'm going through this with you. Literally." Then he gave a wink. Sweat started to trickle down his back from fighting the nausea—she'd feel worse if he got sick from it.

Relief flooded through her glow around his heart. She offered an overtired smile and headed inside.

Ripping off his tunic, his stomach gave a dry heave. Neverland, with any luck, this morning sickness would pass quickly. Sugar, blood, feces...he could handle it all, but not vomit. Scooping up the clothes, he made it to the steps before having to drop them and throw up in the bushes.

Sleet looked a little green when she came out of the shower. "Are you alright?"

He nodded. "You?"

"I need to grab the cleaner. The smell of the shampoo wasn't good." She hurried to the kitchen.

"I'll clean it." Somehow, it looked like it pained him to say that.

"No, I'll do it." It was embarrassing enough that she'd gotten sick on him without him cleaning up a mess in the shower, too.

He took the bottle. "I got you pregnant. I'm not going to make you get sick and clean it up." He turned and closed the bathroom door.

There was a weird sound inside, almost as if he was vomiting. Then it was silent for a moment and the shower turned on. So she went to bed, falling asleep before he came in.

"Sleet!"

Shooting up at the foot of the bed from a deep sleep, he snatched the sword and blinked in the darkness to get his bearings. "What?! What?!"

Silvermist tried to wiggle out of bed from where he'd tucked her under the sheets so he could sleep on top without touching her. "I need a bowl!"

He dove for a vase and got it to her just in time. A dry heave tried to escape from hearing her get sick.

"Thank you." She started to reach to take it.

"I have it." He headed for the bathroom. Sweet Neverland, this was his hell as payment for getting her pregnant. Holding his breath and looking away to empty the vase didn't help. He leaned over the toilet and got sick.

"Captain, you look greener than a frog," Lord Milori said at work the next morning.

"Give me the rack or saws or hot coals, just don't put me near a female with morning sickness," he groaned, his abs and throat sore. Silvermist had gotten sick once this morning...and he'd gotten sick twice while cleaning out the basin.

Lord Milori grinned. "You throw up every time she does?" He burst out laughing. "Is this only when you see it, or through your glow so whenever she vomits, you do it, too?" This seemed highly amusing to him.

Flipping the finger, he rested his forehead against a patch of ice on a tree. It might make Lord Milori laugh harder to know it was only if he was near vomit because he was a wimp.

The General laughed. "You can feel each other's pain, right? Are you going to go through labor for her?"

His head whipped up as terror ripped through him. "Fuck. She's probably expecting that. Can you feel the Queen's pain?"

Lord Milori grinned like an ass and shook his head. "That's apparently your special mate bond, Captain. Clarion was screaming bloody murder for days during childbirth. And she wouldn't stop throwing up."

He paled as his knees grew weak. And then he frowned. "Wait, you were with me when she went into labor. She was in labor for less than twenty-four hours!" He gave Lord Milori a dark look.

Milori laughed. "She only got sick once when the pain got bad. Come on, you're an—" He glanced around at the soldiers nearby. Then he sobered and lowered his voice. "In all seriousness, I think your leg was a thousand times worse than what Clarion seemed to go through. I suspect you'd break out in a sweat, but I don't think you'd even whimper from labor pain. And I know Silvermist wouldn't expect you to take it for her."

"All the more reason why I should—being an…" He should talk to her about that so she wasn't afraid of childbirth.

"Sleet!"

He straightened from where he stood leaning against a flower stalk at her work at five o'clock. Silvermist ran toward him through the crowd, and his stomach twisted with worry for a moment. Her glow didn't feel upset, though.

When she reached him, her wings flared out fully as she grinned and looked up. "I talked to Spruce at lunch, and he said we should touch and do things normally tonight, and he'll check in the morning if the ba—" she glanced around at the crowd. "If he's alright." Hope shined in her eyes.

So much relief and joy slammed that it almost hurt.

She grabbed her heart at the same moment he grabbed his, and opened her mouth to speak.

He silenced her with a kiss that drew hoots and whistles.

"No, don't go," he whined an hour later as she sat up and started to slide out of bed.

"I'm hungry." She giggled as his arm wrapped around her middle and pulled her back into bed.

He nibbled her neck and moved over her. "Neverland, your skin is so soft," he sighed, his voice wonderfully husky. "I'll feed you in bed. What do you want to eat?"

"Strawberries."

That won a chuckle as he kissed his way down to her belly. Then he paused. "Why do you keep making Mama eat strawberries?" Then he pressed a kiss to her belly and got up. "You aren't allowed to move." He walked around the bed and to the doorway.

"Or what?" She grinned, unable to resist baiting him. And wanting one more second to admire his large muscles.

He frowned, stopped at the door, and stated in all seriousness, "Or you'll be in trouble." Then one corner of his mouth tugged slightly, and he disappeared to the kitchen.

She sighed, her heart aflutter. He was so strong and fierce on the outside, which made his big heart inside all the more wonderful. Slipping out of bed, she pulled on his robe, tiptoed to the doorway, and waited with a smile.

A moment later, he turned around with a bowl full of strawberries and scowled as he approached. "I told you to stay in bed."

The grin grew bigger as she tilted her head back to look up when he stopped almost toe to toe.

A deep sigh of displeasure escaped through his nose. "You didn't listen."

She shook her head, her heart beating faster in anticipation of probably a long kiss for her discipline.

"Get in bed." He leaned between her and the wall to set the strawberries on the nightstand. Then he straightened and crossed his arms over his broad chest, waiting expectantly. No smile touched his lips, and there was no twinkle in his eye. "Come, I expected to feed you strawberries, but now I have to punish you." He eased the robe off her.

The smile died. 'Punish' was always something bad and terrible, like the Queen sending Tink home in shame early from work for an invention blowing up part of the tinker shop. Or when the fairies had...

But before she could open her mouth, he scooped her up, laid her down, and climbed on top. His glow flickered in response to her anxiety as he growled, "Now I have to write a poem about every inch of your body first."

At the same moment, she blurted, "I don't want to be punished."

His eyes flew to her in concern and he stilled. His voice softened as he rolled off and pulled the sheet up to cover her. "It's alright, sweetheart, I won't."

She blinked. "What about a poem?"

Worry filled his eyes. "I said now I have to write a poem about every inch of you first. Are you scared of me?" He sat up and offered some distance, as if he thought it'd make her feel safer.

"How is that a punishment? I don't understand, what's the bad part?" She sat up, completely confused.

His brow furrowed. "There is no actual bad part; I wouldn't do something bad to you. I thought we were playing."

"I thought we were, too. You seemed so serious. Whenever you've said 'punished' before, you smile or something."

He frowned. "Is 'punish' a frightening word to you?"

She gave a small nod. "Sometimes. When I was a newborn, I got lost on my way home from the Pixie Tree to get more dust. Some fairies found me hiding from the bats in a field. I still didn't understand English well, so they said something about my punishment for being stupid. Then they took my bag of dust and threw it all in the air to attract bats." She shook her head and drew her knees to her chest. "I don't like 'punish'."

Anger grew in his glow around her heart. "You're not stupid. Where did the fairies go?"

She looked away, the fear returning with the memories. "They flew away. I hid under a mushroom."

He glowered. "A mushroom wouldn't protect you for long. What happened?"

Her wings automatically folded down to try to cocoon over her shoulders. "I fainted. Being scared for too long burns through Pixie Hollow fairy dust fast. A guard noticed all the bats and came over and found me. Spruce made me stay in the hospital for a few days."

His hand slipped into hers, and she held tight. "Why did you have to be in the hospital?" Gentleness filled his voice.

She swallowed hard and stared at the sheets. "Right before I fainted, one of the bats tried to eat me."

He drew a sharp breath and eased closer, slipping an arm around her waist and wanting nothing more than to protect her forever. "Will you tell me where you got hurt?"

Slowly letting go of the sheet, she pointed to her back and then stomach.

Very faint white, circular scars like puncture marks. Horror gripped and nausea slammed as he leaned closer and trailed his fingers over her smooth flesh to find yet another puncture scar on her belly. "Neverland," he breathed, "they're such fine scars, I never noticed. It bit you?"

"It grabbed me and shook. I fainted after that, but Spruce thinks the guard got to me right then." Her fear grew, brightening his glow as sunset light filled the room.

Neverland, she'd been conscious for the attack. Desperate to do anything to make her feel safe, he gathered her into his lap and pressed his heart to hers. "I'm so sorry. I had no idea. I'll never use that word again. Do the scars hurt?"

She shook her head. "I don't know why I got scared. I know you wouldn't hurt me."

The glow grew just a bit warmer, as if knowing to not heal, just comfort. "Sometimes emotions don't always listen to our heads. I'm glad you told me to stop. Always tell me if you don't want something. I love you and always want you to feel safe with me."

"I do." She nuzzled closer. "I love you."

"Who were those fairies?" Maybe they needed a visit.

"The bumble bee fairies," she answered softly.

Pure rage. Vision sharpened and the room glowed red. He didn't even know it was possible for Alamur to turn red.

"Sleet, you're squeezing me."

He instantly relaxed, his arms loosening from around her. "Sorry." The red glow disappeared.

"Are you going to give me another poem?"

She needed a change of topic, so he let it go for now. Vision slowly returned to normal. Pressing a kiss to her hair, he laid her down and stretched out along her side.

"Don't you need paper?"

With a smile, he shook his head and pressed a kiss to her palm.

"With elegant fingers, my love's touch creates beauty and strength."

A surprised smile lit up her face.

He smiled and kissed up her arm. "With every heartbeat apart, I yearn for her gentle embrace."

Then he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the scar below her ribs. "With courage, she fights and yet sweetness she lives."

He slid up to the mating scar over her heart. "With a moment of her love, I fell at her feet and gave myself to her forever."

Her love around his glow burned bright. As he moved up to her lips next, she rose and pressed him back into the mattress. Draping her body over his, she pressed kisses to his chest. "With his heart, he steals my breath."

"I'm not done." He tried to frown, but her kisses felt so amazing.

"Shhh, I'm writing," she whispered and stroked over his belly right where it made him too drowsy to argue.

Every muscle went limp and then his breath caught when she sprinkled kisses over his stomach, every nerve snapping awake and zeroing in on her touch. Love swelled and overflowed from his heart, completely at her mercy. A primal need to be touched like this, that Alamur didn't have, took hold. It should cause pain to have the scars touched directly, but all he felt right now was her love.

"With fierce power, he protects from harm and guards my heart."

Sleet's glow burned brighter and his love hit like a tidal wave. Something about kissing and touching his poor, scarred torso moved him to the point of feeling completely safe and willing to let down every wall to surrender his body and heart to her. Curious, she pressed her lips to his belly and gave a tiny stroke with her tongue.

He cried out with pleasure and arched up. "Silver," he breathed and his hand buried in her hair.

"Do you want me to stop?" He was so vulnerable, giving her control of his body.

"No," he gasped as she gave another soft kiss.

In a way, it hurt to see him so deprived of love his whole life to react this strongly even after months of being mated. But it was also an amazing gift that he trusted and loved her enough to be stripped down to his raw soul like this. He'd never been this completely vulnerable.

"Let your wings free," he breathed, his legs shifting with slight restlessness. "Let me have all of you."

A moment of hesitation flashed, but if he could bare himself this much, she could be unashamed for a bit.

Slowly relaxing them, her wings began to droop down onto the bed.

He closed his eyes and gave long strokes from the base to the gold knobs to as far toward the tips as he could reach, relaxing them even more. His breathing deepened, as if this relaxed him to have her wings spread around them. Then he started the strokes all over.

She caressed his chest as her eyes rolled back in glorious relaxation.

"With majestic beauty, her wings inspire wonder and desire." His hands glided down them again so they relaxed completely, spread out over the bed on each side—even resting against his sides. "They feel so wonderful," he whispered, continuing the slow caressed like her wings gave him pleasure.

"Sleet." It was all she could say amid this gentle restlessness his touch began to build. She barely shifted her wings, causing them to brush against his ribs, and he shivered in delight.

And then his hands dipped under to stroke her back, the backsides of his hands gliding against her wings. "You're so exotic and beautiful. Give me your heart, dewdrop." He entangled his legs with hers.

No one had ever thought she was beautiful, much less exotic. It elicited feeling so very special.

Very tenderly, she kissed the wounds on his soul, and then gave herself to him as he made beautiful love to her long into the night.