Initially, the words of their first true conversation formed the steps of some strange dance—the gentle tread of two creatures who were accustomed to yielding to others. The creamy stallion had never known a true give-and-take before these stolen moments—though both Rivaini and Faolain would undoubtedly give him anything that he asked for, Iscariot was not the sort to ask for anything. And while he was no more comfortable taking from Echo, the bay mare gave to him freely and without prompting. On the beach that day, she’d gifted him purpose—and now she offered trust and companionship in the form of her touch. Standing stone-still beneath the whisper of lips across the curve of his jaw, Iscariot didn’t feel the same passion he’d seen in his sister’s eyes when she beheld her beloved shadow—but that was okay. Echo didn’t need to be the fire in his blood or the wings that lifted his heart.

She was warm and kind and comfortable—and that was as much as he’d ever searched for.

No, Iscariot, stay. Please stay. It tore at him to hear her beg, to feel another one of her puzzle’s pieces shift into place. She hadn’t recognized his words as the freedom of choice that they had been—because such liberties were as unfamiliar to her as the pleasures of flesh to him. Inhaling sharply at the fear in the red woman’s voice, Iscariot offered the comfort of his touch again—tracing the curve of her withers with a gentle shh. But the gesture did not have the soothing effect he’d hoped for; Echo’s need was deeper than such hollow reassurances could hope to touch. I need you know, Iscariot. The foal, it’s coming, I can’t—

Pale ears twisting backwards, the perlino glanced rapidly about the gloomy cavern—as if hoping to find the antidote to her terror amongst the shadows and stones. It was only when her lips formed the syllables of his name once more—I need to get out of here, Iscariot—that the ivory male understood. Heartbeats later, the auburn mare’s words echoed the truth that wove through his thoughts. And I want you to stay….I want you, Iscariot. I want you.

Hooves scraping softly over stone, Iscariot backed hastily out of the cave. The vibrant world of Atlantis took shape around him once again, but it was the gloom behind the roaring curtain of water that held his ice-blue eyes. Ears tipping forward, he waited for his companion to emerge as well—to be reborn, as he had been. But then the memory of her fear passed over the warm glow of his thoughts like a hawk’s shadow, and he worried that the darkness might have claimed her again. "I’m here," he called above the thrumming of water and his own heart. "I promised, Echo. I promised." A cloud of mist veiled his gaze and a heavy moisture pressed into his lungs, but the stallion did not retreat.

He would not—could not—step away from the bay mare until he was certain that she was safe and her soul content. Whatever the doubts and fears that might plague him, Iscariot knew that to be true. And it wasn’t duty or romance or even the life they’d created together that held him to her. It was something both greater and far more simple.

She needed him—and some indescribable way, she completed him as well.