Without giving myself time to reconsider, I leave my quarters with purpose. Each step carries me closer to what I want. To who I want. My heart drums a steady rhythm in my ears, courage and fear and anticipation all tangled together. The scent of smoke trails behind me, subtle but distinct as emotion builds and stirs my power.
For once, I don’t try to contain it.
I let it rise. Let it burn.
I’m done hiding.
Chapter 29
Ember
I stand outside Luke’s door, my heart thundering.
Right. This is it.
Unlike my impulsive march through Aurora’s corridors, this moment feels deliberate, chosen. I pull in a breath as my knuckles connect with the solid wood… softly, but with certainty.
He opens immediately, as if he’s been waiting just on the other side. His hair is damp from a shower, dark strands curling slightly at his temples, threaded with a hint of silver. His face is freshly shaved, no more of the stubble I remember against my fingers. The subtle scent of soap and clean skin washes over me. The last time I saw him, he had a cut on his jaw. It’s gone now, leaving nothing but a pale line on his tanned skin. His dragon healing is back. The mountain’s influence has faded.
His eyes widen slightly when he sees me, then darken with something between concern and hunger. The pupils dilate, leaving just a thin ring of chocolate.
“Come in,” he says, stepping back without hesitation. His voice has a slight roughness to it, as though he hasn’t used it in hours.
His quarters are military-neat, but the space smells like him. Instinctively, I inhale and feel a familiar warmth spread through me. Like coming home.
“I thought you’d be resting,” he says, closing the door behind me, then leaning back against it, arms folded across his chest. The gesture has the muscles of his biceps bulging against his sleeves.
God, he’s beautiful.
Tall, honed, impossibly male. I stare for a second.
“Ember?” he presses.
I snap my eyes up to his. “I tried. Couldn’t.” The words come out honest, unguarded. My earlier confrontation with Vanya has burned away pretense, leaving only truth in its wake.
Luke studies my face, reading the set of my shoulders, the flush still lingering on my cheeks.
“Your mother?” he guesses, voice gentle but knowing.
I offer a small smile. “Among other things.”
He gestures to the small couch along one wall, but I remain standing, too full of nervous energy to sit. The warmth of my power hums beneath my skin, not dangerous but present.
“She wants to send me away,” I explain. “Thinks I need time to ‘process’ everything.” I trace my fingers over the edge of his desk, feeling the smooth wood grain, focusing on the tangible to keep my nerves steady.
Luke stiffens, a muscle flickering in his cheek.
“Maybe she’s right.” His scent shifts subtly—warmer, spicier—as his body responds to my proximity.
“Maybe she’s wrong.” I step closer, drawn to him irresistibly. “I don’t need to be protected. I need to be trusted.”
“Ember—” he begins, caution threading through my name. I watch the movement of his throat as he swallows, the slight quickening of the pulse point visible at the base of his neck.
“I just stood up to her,” I interrupt. “For the first time in my life, I told her no.” The words taste like freedom, sweet and heady on my tongue.
Pride and uncertainty war in his expression. He knows what it means: defying Vanya Arrowvane isn’t just challenging my mother. It’s challenging the Shadowhand, a woman feared across continents.
I hold his gaze steadily, refusing to look away. “I’m not backing down from this either.”
