Damar leaned back, pulling me with him into the mountain of sheep’s wool and feathers. It was such a peaceful time, as it was just us. Well, us and Lyra, of course, haha.

​"You smell like him," Damar whispered, his nose brushing against my temple. "The sea."

​"And you smell like bitter roots and silver," I countered, turning my face into his neck. "I think it’s a fair trade."

​He didn’t respond, but I felt his arm wrap around my waist under the furs, pulling me to him. Lyra let out a tiny, soft snore between us, her little emerald eyes closing for a nice morning shut-eye.

​As the morning sun climbed higher, casting a warm, golden glow over the limestone floors, the sounds of the valley below—the rhythmic slapping of beaver tails and the distant shouts of the wolf scouts—began to feel like a dream. 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝔀𝓮𝒃𝙣𝓸𝒗𝒆𝒍.𝙘𝒐𝒎

Just when I thought I could close my eyes to sleep for just a bit before I go back to check on Thalor, Damar spoke.

"The threat is over for now, Ari," he murmured, his voice dropping into that low, possessive register that always made my heart skip. "The red scales are broken. The palace is held. And I have done as you asked—I have kept the peace with the ’fish’ and the others."

​He turned his head to look at me, his emerald eyes burning with an intensity that had nothing to do with exhaustion and everything to do with a promise I’d made in the tent.

​"The marking," he said. "You said we would wait until we were settled. We are settled. When will you claim me?"

​I bit my lip, the warmth of the bed suddenly feeling a lot hotter. I reached out and traced the pale skin of his forearm.

"I haven’t forgotten, Damar. I want it as much as you do. But... There are things about the marking you need to understand. Things I didn’t want to bring up while we were in the middle of a war."

​Damar shifted, his tail tightening around my waist. "What things?"

​"The marking isn’t just a symbol, Damar. Thalor explained that it uses a pearl, and the males who the pearls are used one and up going into a rut. That is... for three days after I mark you, you and I will have to mate." I reached for his face and stroked him softly. "That can’t happen while we’re busy, you know. Because after I mark you, I’ll have to mark the rest. That’s more than a week of having my body being dismantled by my four husbands who can’t control themselves."

Damar’s eyes darkened, his pupils thinning into sharp, lethal needles as he processed my words. He didn’t look deterred; if anything, the idea of finally claiming that three-day window seemed to make the air in the room vibrate with his intensity.

​"Three days," he rasped, his voice dropping an octave. "Three days where the world outside this room does not exist. Where you are mine, and I am yours, without the scent of the wolf or the tiger lingering on your skin."

​"It’s not just about you being mine, Damar," I said, trying to stay grounded while his tail rhythmically squeezed my waist. "You won’t be able to think straight. You won’t be able to protect the ridge or lead the scouts. You’ll be... completely primal. And then I have to do the same for Noah, Fenric, and eventually Thalor. That is twelve days where the leadership of this kingdom is basically nonexistent."

​I looked at him, my expression turning serious. "The red-scales are retreating, but they aren’t gone. If they see the ’Task Force’ is too busy in the bedroom to notice an ambush, everything we built yesterday—the mud traps, the water gates—won’t mean a thing."

​Damar leaned in closer, his nose brushing against mine. The scent of him was intoxicating, even with the lingering bitterness of the medicine.

​"The wolf can lead for three days," he growled. "He is loud and loves to fight; let him have the ridge. The tiger is patient; let him watch the gates. I have waited long enough, Ari. I have bled for this soil and sucked poison for a rival. My patience has reached its limit."

​He shifted Lyra slightly so he could press his body closer to mine, the cool silkiness of his scales contrasting with the warmth of the wool furs.

​"I do not care about the ’rest’ of them right now," he whispered against my lips. "I only care that you promised I would be first. If it takes three days of rut to seal the mark, then let the world burn outside these walls. I am not waiting until the next moon."

​I let out a shaky breath. He was being incredibly stubborn, but I could feel the raw need coming off him. It wasn’t just lust; it was the deep, instinctual drive of a serpent beastman to finally have his place anchored to his mate.

​"Tonight," I whispered, relenting as I felt his heart thudding against my chest. "I’ll talk to Noah and Fenric about it. They already know about the pearl’s effect."

"But Damar, once I start the marking... there’s no stopping it, Damar. You’re sure?"

"I am sure," Damar said. "You can start the rotation so it’s not too hard on you." He added, and I sighed.

It was easy for him to say. I could decide to make it one marking per week, but that would just make the others wait tirelessly.

And I don’t want to be partial.

I’ve already been quite the biased wife for a while now. Yeah, I know.

I carefully disentangled myself from the furs, leaving Lyra in his arms. I needed to move fast before I lost my nerve or before the exhaustion finally dragged me under for good.

I walked back toward the Side Wing, where the air was still quiet, but the tension was already brewing.

​Noah and Fenric were sitting at the small wooden table Oryn had finished just a few days ago. They looked up as I entered.

​"Damar is stable," I started, leaning against the doorframe. "But he’s ready. And he’s not willing to wait."

​Noah leaned back, his chair creaking. "Ready for what? The wall? Because I’ve got scouts reporting—"

​"Not the wall, Noah," I interrupted, my face heating up. "The marking. He wants to start tonight."