Though a Wyk may have several mates in her lifetime, a Fyn will only have one. He must treasure his mate and care for her.

This is Our Law.
 
~From the Dragonling Grimoire

The black fyn twisted through the sky, trying to escape his own pain. He had so much to worry about: the war in the south, the aftermath of the egg murders, his own vicious rivals. Yet... a single thought haunted him, pushing everything else out.

Why did I leave?

Letting his wings stall, the fyn allowed his body to freefall for a few heartbeats before catching himself. Beating the air with his wings, he rose up again.

If I hadn't, the eggs would be okay.

A part of the fyn wanted to let himself fall and hit the ground as hard as he could. Maybe it would hurt less. His thoughts were trapped in that winter's night, with his beautiful Anita. Her scales shone in the moonlight, casting a lovely blue glow on their surroundings.

Of course, the fyn knew who his mate was. Not at first, but after a quick glance through the records, it was easy to figure out that his gorgeous wyk had been none other than Anita Rhyan.

Even after he discovered who she was, the fyn had debated returning to his mate's side and be with her permanently. But he wanted to keep Anita safe. A lot of good that did...

In his colony, everything had to be ripped from the claws of another. Violent rivals had dogged his steps. He couldn't bring her into his world just to be used as leverage against him. At least, that's what he had told himself. But... who was he kidding? He was afraid.

The fyn hadn't wanted to be a father. Raising them in a colony like Thundercrash was unsafe. He went to great lengths to avoid unfamiliar wyks and had already turned several of them down. His genetics were foreign to this colony and thus he had a choice of wyks, but he never wanted one.

Not until Anita.

Anita... what was it about her that made the fyn so distracted? Her attitude was atrocious and her pride wasn't much better. But she was keen, fearless, and persistent. He watched as she struggled against everything life had thrown at her and come out on top.

Except for this... because of me. With a heavy sigh, the fyn drifted down

Spring had finally broken over the land. It brought wildflowers that filled the air with a powerful aroma, woke hibernating animals that provided a nice change in the dragonlings' diets, and warmed air currents from the south. Dragonlings swirled through the air and enjoyed the warmth. Their scales created a kaleidoscope of stunning color.

Despite the awakening beauty all around the fyn, he couldn't appreciate it. The agony from the death of his children was far too raw to enjoy anything.

You're a fool.

Every beat of the fyn's wings echoed the words. He wanted to claw out his own eardrums.

Shutting down his brain, the fyn allowed his body to take over. His wings carried him far away from the complex where his mate was grieving. He didn't want to think about what had happened. He wanted to be at Anita's side, to defend her from the ugly whispers and malicious lies.

So much for not thinking about it. The fyn scolded himself, the cruel words and rumors came back to him in a rush.

The fyn had heard them all - how his Anita was a murderer, how she was a valiant defender. A liar, a fraud. The rumors ranged from how the dead intruder was her mate - completely false, and it took all of his strength not to attack anyone who spread this ridiculous lie - to how Anita had supposedly hired the fyn to smash her own eggs to gain her freedom.

Rage flickered through the fyn as he dove again. How dare those whelps even think such lies, much less spread them?

As the fyn continued his acrobatics, he felt a new wave of raw pain. He had failed as her mate, as the father of his eggs. The fyn never wanted a mate, no, and he never cared for having children. But now he felt as if everything was slipping away. Would his mate even accept him, now that their children were dead?

Do I even deserve to have a mate after this? The question had been one of many that plagued the fyn's mind the past moon. Would it have mattered if I was there? Of course it would, you fool.

Exhaustion tugged at the ends of the fyn's wings and made him land in a clearing ringed by large trees. A large turtle pond was settled in the middle and a wolf pack lapped eagerly at the water. The cubs were playing with a turtle and the fyn's heart skipped as he imagined bringing one back to his own draggies.

Stupid. Stop thinking about it. The fyn approached the edge of the water to drink and hopefully wash the thoughts from his mind.

Some of the younger wolves spooked, turning to run away from the predator that had just dropped from the sky. However, the older ones knew that when spring had arrived, so did a truce between predators. It made no sense to attack each other when far more docile prey had appeared.

Keeping an eye on the flighty youngsters, the fyn turned to find a shady place to take a nap. His duties for the day were over and he wasn't exactly eager to see anyone.

The fyn relaxed in the shade of the trees, letting his scales blend with the shadows. After the warm sun, the shade was comfortable. His eyes slowly closed and he began to doze off.

As his breathing evened out, the fyn couldn't help but think of his mate and what their children would have looked like. One was gray, right? Maybe he would have looked like me... The thoughts were soothing to his aching heart and helped him relax. He knew such ideas would just lead to more pain later on, but for now it was enough.

The startled yelps of wolves awoke the fyn. He opened his eyes but didn't bother to lift his head. That was until he saw who had arrived.

That green wyk was of no concern of his - Alma was a long-time motherly character in Lord Edik's land. They'd butted heads over time and weren't the closest of friends, often on the opposite sides of an argument. The fyn simply ignored her.

However, the younger wyk beside her made his heart stop.

The fyn could recognize Anita even if he was blind.

A former force of nature, the blue wyk was now quietly lapping at the water, defeat evident in the drooping of her shoulders and her tail dragging in the dirt.

The fyn felt his heart twist in pain. His Anita should walk with her head high, her pride still intact. He should be at her side.

Before he could stop himself, the fyn shot to his paws and bounded over to the edge of the lake. Both wyk's looked up, their eyes wide with alarm. Alma's eyes narrowed in suspicion and her lips pulled into a snarl. But Anita's flashed with hope, then anger, and lastly pain.

"You left me."

Those were the first words the fyn's mate said to him. They stung and he flinched but bowed his head. He deserved it.

"I know." The fyn whispered, stepping closer to press his forehead to his Anita's. "And I regret it so much. I don't want to leave you ever again."

The fyn felt nothing but pure happiness from the touch of his mate, but it was clear Alma didn't. She growled lowly and tried to pull Anita away by tugging on her wing. Anger kindled in his belly, and he snapped at Alma, his teeth clicking against her claws.

Anita growled and turned, administering sharp nips to each of their shoulders. "Enough." Her voice was as pointed as her teeth, the embers of her former self burning to life. The fyn felt thrilled, but Anita bit him again, tugging at his muzzle to pull him away from Alma.

The fyn had suffered far worse, but somehow it hurt more than anything else when it came from his mate. He let go of Alma's claws and nuzzled Anita's neck in apology, glaring at Alma over Anita's shoulder.

"Fine." The fyn said when he straightened up.

That didn't mean the fyn stepped away. He kept close to his mate, folding his wing over her side to pull her closer.

Alma made a disgruntled huffing noise and shifted on her feet. "Anita, that's-"

The fyn's blood ran cold. He wanted to be the one to tell Anita.

"My mate. Let me be with him." Anita interrupted before he could, her words scathing. The fyn felt a thrill of joy at her words. My mate. She accepted him, despite his failure to protect her and their eggs.

Alma looked like she was going to argue but abruptly took off with no words. The fyn watched her leave, still holding Anita close to his side with a wing. He didn't want to let her go ever again.

Anita leaned against the fyn's side with a soft sigh and he gently rubbed his cheek against her muzzle. "Come on." He urged, tugging her towards the shade of the trees. She followed willingly in silence. It wasn't accusatory or painful like the silence the fyn had surrounded himself in lately. It was comfortable, companionable. It was safe.

The two dragonlings collapsed against each other under the oak trees. The fyn kept his wing over Anita like a blanket, loving the warmth and spark of euphoria that came with contact with his mate. It was duller than their first night together, but still as enjoyable.

They retained their silence, content just to be with each other for now. The fyn was glad; he didn't know where to begin with explaining why he had left her alone.

The details of the winter night slowly trickled through the fyn's mind. The soft grass underfoot, protected from the harsh winds by the ancient trees; the bright moon full in the sky and overshadowing the darker moon; the winter jasmine filling the air with its sweetly rich smell. His belly had been full and he'd thought he would patrol on his own.

That's when the fyn had seen the dragonling, shadowed by the trees and far too close to the border for his liking. He had thought to himself that he would attack the stranger. Even if they were from his own colony, it would teach them a lesson.

The fyn never would have thought that the dragonling would turn out to be Anita, much less his very own mate. The moment they touched, the fyn knew he wanted her to be his mate.

Without a second of hesitation, the fyn knew he couldn't let Anita slip away from him.

The fyn sighed deeply as the silvery memories of that night slowly faded away and were replaced by the horrible days that followed.

The initial horror when he found out the identity of his mate. The internal shame when he couldn't find the courage to face her and tell her who he was. The barely-concealed rage when he came upon the massacre of his eggs at the hands of Kirill Ralov. The unsatisfied urge to avenge his children.

The uncaring attitude he forced out to hide his true feelings.

The fyn was the first to break the silence. "I didn't want to leave." He whispered, more to himself than anything. Anita heard anyways.

"I know."

The weight on the fyn's shoulders lifted. It was just a little, but it still helped. He rubbed his cheek against his mate and pulled her closer so that they were laying down. The forest was blissfully peaceful, with nothing but the wind and birdsong to disturb the quiet. They laid together as the sun slowly passed overhead.

"Anita." The fyn whispered. His mate had been dozing, but her eyes snapped open at his voice. She lifted her head lazily, yawning.

"Yes?" The fyn felt his heart flutter at his mate's soft, sleepy voice.

Getting to his feet, the fyn nudged Anita to do the same. "Come on. Let's go home."

The anguish in Anita's eyes twisted the fyn's heart painfully. "Ani." He said softly, the nickname feeling strange on his tongue. "I want to go home. With you. I won't leave you, not tonight."

Anita took a deep breath and nodded, getting to her feet and shaking herself. My brave Anita. The fyn thought as he stretched out his wings. He licked her cheek before taking flight. After a moment longer, his mate followed.

The fyn basked in the joy of flying with his mate, the naturalness of it all. The setting sun cast a beautiful golden light over everything and warm spring winds blew softly. He gently reached a wing out to brush Anita's. She immediately returned the gesture, rolling through the air under him and touching his belly with her wingtip. With a laugh, he dove down and caught her in his claws.

Their dance was completely in sync, a thing of beauty. She was a thing of beauty. The fyn couldn't help but admire everything about her.

Anita's scales ranged from the darkest navy of the night sky to a clear sapphire; her tail ended in a sharp blade made of bone, the color of a robin's egg; her claws and teeth were like azure diamonds and probably just as hard; and her eyes were as lovely as a crystal-clear sea.

Not only was she beautiful, the fyn knew his mate was vicious, wily, brilliant, and she took no bullshit. He had been watching her since she had arrived, since she had started a fight over something petty. It was exactly something he would have done when he was younger, yet she handled her punishment with quiet pride. That was what he admired about her most.

The fyn could hardly believe she was his.

As they twisted and danced through the sky, the fyn heard his Anita laughing. It was one of the most beautiful sounds he had ever heard. His heart soared as they flew side by side, all the way to the complex.

Anita began to angle herself towards the contracted quarters. A wave of deep, prideful anger sparked inside the fyn as he thought of the disgusting Lord Edik and the hold he had over Anita. He swiftly spiraled under his mate, pushing her towards his own quarters, a private sector away from the rest of the complex. She went without complaint.

The fyn pushed his mate towards his - no, now it was theirs - private quarters before swooping down to land on a balcony. Anita followed quietly, landing beside him and immediately pressed close to his side.

After nuzzling his mate to reassure her, the fyn opened the glass doors with his claws before stepping aside to let her in. She shifted as she entered, looking around anxiously. The fyn felt another pang of anger. His precious Anita shouldn't be scared to go anywhere.

The fyn shut the curtains before shifting himself. No candles were lit and he didn't bother lighting any. Today had been too nice to risk upsetting his mate with revealing who he was. He couldn't bear it.

"Lay down." The fyn grabbed Anita's waist, pulling her to his - their - bed. Even in the darkness, he could sense her presence. "Sleep for tonight." He whispered as he pulled at the plain tunic she was wearing. It came off with little resistance and Anita offered no complaint that he undressed her. The fyn smiled softly and laid down on the soft bed beside her. "We can deal with the rest in the morning."

His mate sighed softly as the fyn held onto her, curling up among the blankets and furs. He felt like if he let her go, she might slip away. Almost like this was a dream. So he hugged her closer to his chest, letting his hand run down her side and memorize every curve of her body.

Silence enveloped the room as the fyn clung to his mate. He listened as her breathing slowly evened out and couldn't help the smile that rose to his lips as she gently began to snore. She's... adorable.

The fyn was acutely aware of the fact that Anita would likely be furious come morning. He has no doubt in his mind that she would yell at him, maybe even attack him. The thought made his laugh a bit. She was so quick to fight... he would have to put up with it.

My whole life is about to change, isn't it? The fyn thought idly, feeling the warm skin of his mate underneath his fingers. But... this is what I want. I want Anita.

As he thought, the fyn began to plot. I need to get her out of here. Lady Mariya will be out for blood as soon as we show our faces together. But how?

Anita shifted beside the fyn, her breathing hitching. The fyn was instantly on alert, trying to see through the dark to see her face as it twitched with some unknown emotion. It clicked after a moment that she was dreaming and his heart twisted. A nightmare?

It only served to solidify the fyn's will. He didn't want his mate to have nightmares when he was so near. There had to be a way for him to get Anita away, whether it was smuggling her to the other side of the continent or pulling a more politically charged move.

The fyn stared up at his ceiling, holding his mate close to his side, as he began to devise a plan that would hopefully get them both legally away from Lord Edik and his daughter. Anita shifted again and the fyn couldn't help but pull her tighter against his chest as he pulled his blankets over them.

I'll never let you go again.