“I didn’t know I was,” he says softly. “Until now.”
The words wrap around me like a blanket, warm and comforting. Whatever happens tomorrow—my mother’s wrath, Aurora’s politics, the Syndicate’s plans—tonight we have this. This connection. This peace.
I fall asleep in his arms, his heartbeat steady beneath my ear, his breath warm against my hair, the scent of him embedded in my skin. For the first time since I left my old life behind, my dreams aren’t haunted by Sleeping Kings or ancient rituals. Instead, I dream of fire… not destructive, but cleansing. Transformative.
The kind of fire that forges something new, something stronger, from the elements it touches.
The kind of fire that’s eternal.
Chapter 30
Luke
Morning light wakes me, but I don’t move, savoring the weight of Ember asleep against my chest, her hair spilled across my pillow like liquid moonlight. Her hand rests over my heart as if to claim it, her breath slow and deep against my skin.
For thirty seconds, I allow myself this peace. Memorize the curve of her cheek, the slight part of her lips, the scatter of freckles across her nose that I’d never noticed before. Store away this moment like a treasure to revisit in the centuries ahead.
I’ve never known this kind of stillness.
And I should know better than to get too comfortable in it.
The firm knock at my door disrupts the quiet. Three raps—urgent, official. Ember stirs but doesn’t wake as I carefully extract myself from her clinging arms. My skin burns where she touched me, the dragon inside stirring with possessive heat as I pull on pants and cross to the door.
A junior Aurora operative stands in the hallway, spine straight, expression carefully neutral. Too neutral. His eyes avoid meeting mine directly, and the scent of his discomfort is sharp in my nostrils.
“Commander Kenan? You’re needed in Director Parlance’s office. Immediately.”
I glance back at Ember, still blissfully unaware, tangled in my sheets. Her scent permeates everything, makes my dragon half stir beneath my skin, scales prickling along my spine with the urge to protect what’s mine.
The operative lowers his voice. “Elder Arrowvane is already there, sir.”
My stomach drops through the floor. Heat drains from my body so quickly that my fingertips go numb.
She knows.
“Thank you,” I say, my voice betraying nothing of the turmoil within me.
I dress quickly, mind racing through scenarios. Hargen told her. Had to be. His loyalty to Vanya would override any promise to Ember. I can’t even blame him.
The corridors of Aurora headquarters stretch impossibly long before me, each step bringing me closer to consequences I’ve been avoiding since that first kiss in the mountains. Images resurface, some from those first moments, others more recent, last night still so fresh in my mind I can still taste her.
My dragon stirs with each memory, scales threatening to ripple across my skin. I force it down, clamp iron control over the possessive heat that wants to surge through my blood.
Aurora operatives nod as I pass, going about their morning routines; normal activity that feels surreal against the storm waiting in Viktor’s office.
I mentally run through what I plan to say. That Ember made her own choice. That nothing happened while she wasn’t thinking clearly. And that we’re both adults, both dragon-kind.
Each justification rings hollow, even to my own ears.
Hargen waits outside Viktor’s office, leaning against the wall with arms crossed. Guilt shadows his face. My enhanced senses pick up the chemical changes in his body: cortisol, adrenaline, the distinct scent of regret.
“You told her,” I say, stopping before him.
“I had to.” His voice comes quiet. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. She’s your mate. You did what you thought was right.”
He meets my eyes, amber light flickering briefly in his irises, his dragon responding to mine.
