And I’d spent the last few weeks terrified of it.
Now I embraced it.
My parents gaped at me until a light knock sounded at the door. My grandfather poked his head into the room, and his dark eyes went wide at the destruction. “I thought I heard a crash…”
“This is your fault!” my father yelled, finding a new, suitable target for his rage. He pointed a finger in accusation. “You shamed our family, and now your only grandson chooses to follow in your footsteps!”
Unaffected by my father’s outrage, the old fae stepped over broken prayer orbs and smashed plates to give me a pat on the back. “Your beautiful mate came by to check on you, saying she felt a disturbance. I promised her I would investigate.” He took another long look at the room, then locked his gaze onto my father’s. “You should be ashamed, son. Have you learned nothing from our excommunication? You’ve tried so hard to win a place back into society that you’ve forgotten what it means to be an Air Fae, to be family.”
“Don’t lecture me, old man,” my father said.
“Enough.” I was done. I didn’t want to have this conversation anymore. There was nothing they could say or do to change my mind. “Claire is looking for me, and her concern means more to me than yours. So if you wish to ever speak to me again, you’ll consider your next actions wisely. I leave for the Academy tomorrow—with my mate and my bond-circle.”
I expected my father to fling another weak attempt at punishment at my face, or go for the gem lodged in the ceiling, but for the first time in my life, his dark eyes shifted down. “If you leave us now, you will not be welcome back,” he warned.
Fucking fine with me.
I turned on my heel and left my parents with their prayer orbs and judgment. It tore me up on some deep level to make this choice, and I hated them even more for it. But if I’d learned anything, it was that “family” did not mean pursuing blind ambition at the cost of my soul.
True family was where I could be free.
My grandfather followed me as I stormed out of the spire to where Claire stood waiting on the doorstep. Her blue eyes sparkled with concern. “Vox, is everything all right?”
I ignored the question, needing more than words right now.
Threading my fingers through her tousled hair, I pulled her into a kiss. It was hard. Fast. Filled with emotions I couldn’t hide. And powerful.
She melted into my embrace, her slender arms sliding around my neck as I parted her lips with my tongue.
Heat blossomed between us, carried on a robust wind stirred by the mixing of our shared element. A roar of sound tunneled through my ears, the whipping sensation one I reveled in and adored.
This.
This is what I needed.
What I craved.
What I desired.
My Claire.
My mate.
“I want you to be mine,” I whispered. “To keep me for always. To ground me. To soar with me. To love me as I love you.”
Her reply was lost to my mouth, my need to devour her overriding everything else. She clung to me with the same intensity as I did with her, our lips engaged in a dance no one could interrupt. Not even my grandfather, who stood behind us clearing his throat.
I no longer cared about propriety.
No longer worried what my family might think.
Fuck any and all reputation tied to my parents. I was my own person, destined to create my own future.
And I chose Claire.
Her legs wound around my waist as I lifted her and pressed her back into the wall of my parents’ home. “Vox,” she breathed.
“Claire,” I returned, nibbling a path down her neck.