She tightened her grip on the knife. “Not this time.”
But when she moved again, it’s slower, sharper—hers, not the dragon’s.
Because this wasn’t about rage anymore. It was about the promise she left behind.
The one Tater found. The one he kept.
If she died here, she would die with that promise unbroken.
Lightning flashed again, and she caught her reflection in Shadow’s visor—eyes glowing, smoke rising off her skin, a monster shaped like a woman who finally looked unafraid.
The storm steadies. Her heart does too.
“Let’s finish it,” she whispered.
CHAPTER 17
The Dragon
The world narrowed to breath and heartbeat.
Rain, fire, thunder, everything faded until it’s just her and what’s inside of her.
The dragon rose higher, scales of molten light curling through her veins. It’s not whispering anymore. It’s commanding.
“End him. Burn it clean. Take what’s yours.”
But something in its tone felt wrong—like a lover gone cold, like it wanted to wear her skin and call it freedom.
She gritted her teeth. “You think I’m yours, don’t you?”
The heat rolled through her, laughter in the shape of flame.
“You are what I made you.”
“No,” she hissed. “That’s what he said.”
The world blurred, half smoke, half memory—Shadow’s voice, Shadow’s hands, his lessons dressed as love. The dragon and him blur at the edges, same hunger, same control.
“I’m not your weapon.”
“You were born a weapon.”
“I’m more than that.”
“Then prove it. Finish him.”
Lightning cracked above them, close enough to sting. Ren looked down at the knife, gleaming wet and red in her palm. The dragon’s fire curled around the blade like it wanted to feed.
“I’ll end him,” she whispered, “but not for you.”
“Liar.”
“Not for you,” she repeated, louder this time, forcing the words through clenched teeth. “For me. For the ones he took. For Tater. For the girl I buried to survive.”
The dragon snarled, a sound that shook the ground beneath her boots. Then it lunged inward, a flare of pain sharp enough to steal her breath?—
—then silence.
