Seventy-Four Dianna

“Are you sure that food is even good?” I asked.

His laugh echoed inside the large ice box. I placed my hand under my chin, watching the muscles flex across his back and admiring the tiny red scratches marking his skin. He turned, his arms full, and bumped the door closed with his hip. My lips twitched when I saw that more scratches marred his chest, along with a scattered pattern of bite marks across his neck. An overwhelming sense of pride filled me. I’d marked him.

“Mine.”

His eyes flicked to me, a soft smile playing on his lips.

“You read my mind?”

He didn’t say anything as he set the assortment of fruits, vegetables, and greens on the table. They were so colorful, a few colors I’d never seen before. I sat back down on the wooden bench, wincing at the ache between my legs.

“Are you all right?” he asked, his eyes watchful.

“Yes.” I smiled back. “Just a little sore, but good sore. Happy sore.”

“Ah.” Pure male satisfaction filled his eyes, and he smiled to himself. He flicked his wrist, and an ablaze dagger formed in his hand. I had never seen this one.

“Good sore,” he repeated smugly.

I shook my head. But even I had to admit that he had a right to his cockiness. He had made good on his promise from earlier, and our wedding night had turned into our wedding morning, then afternoon and evening. Now here we were, finally in the kitchen after he’d fucked me into oblivion and back.

I rested my chin on my hand, watching him cut up the assortment of food. The long wooden table could host up to fifty, but it seemed more for serving or prep work. The kitchen was massive, but I knew it was nothing compared to the actual dining hall. A metal rack hung above a massive stove, dust-covered pots and pans hanging from it. Samkiel had said the place smelled rancid when he’d found it. He had cleaned up and gotten rid of the worst of it, but dust and debris still littered the floor.

“Did I tell you I forgive you for leaving me again?” I asked as he chopped and minced, placing the assortment in a different bowl.

“Yes.” He smiled, glancing up at me. “But I promise I won’t again.”

I knew he wouldn’t. It was strange but familiar, the bond between us finally being the closest it could be without the marks.

In between bouts of lovemaking, we had talked, and I told him everything. I felt his pain over the loss of our mark and the still-aching wounds my lies had created in his heart. I told him about seeing Gabby and how, even though I loved it, I knew it was the final time I would see her. He shared the burden of those bittersweet emotions, kissing away every tear I shed. Now, there were no more secrets between us, and I intended to keep it that way.

I smiled at him as he picked up the bowl and moved to the stove, continuing to make whatever it was he was making. I knew he was starving after our eventful two days. My eyes dropped to the healed bite mark on his left pectoral. I definitely wasn’t hungry anymore.

I raised up on the bench slightly, watching him for a moment. “Samkiel, this place still isn’t exactly clean. Are you sure that food is safe?”

He laughed, grabbing some green stalk thing and peeling it. “Yes, all fresh, all new.”

I held my hands up in mock defense, the sleeves of his shirt sliding down my arms. “I’m just saying. You were poisoned before, and it’s always good to be safe.”

He finished preparing his food and tossed one leg, then the other, over the bench to sit next to me.

“What is that?” I asked as he dug his fork into his bowl and took a big bite.

He swallowed before moving it toward me. “You remember that dish you made for us on Rashearim?”

“During our three-day sexathon?” I said. “Yes.”

He tipped his head almost bashfully. “It’s the closest I could get, similar vegetables, more or less.”

It looked lackluster at best, but his effort was adorable. My eyes cut to his. “I didn’t know you liked it so much?”

He nodded and pulled the bowl toward him, taking another big bite.

“I’ll have to make you more,” I said as I watched him. “Without the cheese, you’re missing a key component.”

His eyes rolled dramatically, and he laughed. “Well, cheese was not on my list of things to get when I was away.”

I stroked the short hairs at the base of his neck, that warmth in my chest spreading once more. No, it wasn’t, but a home, a ring, and an entire marriage ceremony were.

“This is sad,” I said.

“What?” he asked, his fork halfway to his mouth.

“You are never allowed to do the shopping, ever.”

His laugh almost made him choke, and I rubbed my hand across his back. He shook his head at me before taking another bite. I rubbed small circles on his back, my gaze catching on my new ring.

“You know, when a couple gets married on Onuna, the wife often takes the husband’s last name.”

“Mm-hmm.” His eyes cut to mine as he continued to eat.

I shifted, turning on the bench to face him and leaning my cheek against my hand. “So what’s yours?”

He turned to look at me, the moonlight caressing his skin and glinting off his hair. Oh gods, this man was beautiful. I wondered if he would ever not take my breath away. “You don’t want mine,” he said, a small grin tipping his lips.

“I want your everything.”

He shifted next to me, and I could see the love in his eyes. “Dianna Unirson? No.”

“That’s your last name?” I frowned. “Makes sense, I suppose, to carry on the legacy so forth and so on.”

“Exactly,” he said, digging his fork in once more. “So let’s carry yours.”

My head reared back as he continued to eat, as if he didn’t just say something monumental.

“Mine?”

He nodded, stirring his food. “Yeah. What if I took your last name?”

“My last name isn’t real,” I said softly, even as my heart squeezed at his question.

His brows furrowed, and he lowered his fork. “Who told you that?”

I shrugged. “No one, but in case you forgot, Gabby picked those for us. My real name—”

“Your real name is what you choose,” he said so sternly I thought I’d made him mad.

“I just meant . . .” I didn’t know what I meant.

“Dianna. Gabby gave it to you, to herself. It’s real to me.” He lifted his hand, tucking back a long stray curl from the side of my face. “And I want it too. It carries a pretty strong legacy. A woman who defied all odds of survival and risked her life to keep that which she loved safe.”

“One who failed,” I added, my eyes beginning to burn.

“When?” He cocked his head. “Gabby lived three . . . no, four times her lifetime and loved every second with you. I had barely crossed over before you ripped me back to the land of the living.”

I snorted and dropped my chin, but he caught it.

“I’d say a way better legacy than mine.”

I leaned forward and placed a kiss on his lips. His words healed some still broken part of me. It was real, just as Gabby was to me, and he saw and respected it. Gods, I didn’t think I could love him more, but here we were.

I smiled against his lips, and he ran a hand down my back.

“What’s so funny?”

I shrugged. “Samkiel Martinez. It sounds funny.”

“Mhmm.” He shifted to straddle the bench, pulling me between his spread thighs and wrapping me in the warmth of his arms. “It sounds like I am yours, and you are mine.”

Samkiel dipped his head to kiss me again, but a bright light tore through the kitchen, turning night to day. In unison, we jumped to our feet and hurried to the windows. Fear laced not just my veins but my mind as well, and I knew I was not the only one who felt it. Had Nismera found us? Her legion? But as we glanced up and watched the trail of light, I knew it was not her. Outside, what looked like a comet raced across the night sky.

“Wow, comets on this planet look so much prettier,” I said, pushing up on my toes to peer around his shoulder.

Samkiel shook his head, and I felt his muscles bunch beneath my hand. “No, not a comet or a star.”

I glanced at his face and saw that he had paled.

“Then what is it?”

“A casmirah. I have only ever read about them. They are rare, mythological creatures that only fly through the sky to herald a new ruler. One flew for my father, and now one flies . . .”

His words trailed off, his eyes darting from me to my hand, and we both stared at my ring.

“Oh.”