“I’ve known you for decades, Luke. You don’t rattle easily.” He pauses, considering his next words. “But right now? You look like a man who’s just walked through fire and isn’t sure if he’s still burning.”
The assessment hits closer than he knows. Because I did walk through fire—Ember’s fire. I say nothing. Because what can I say that won’t make this worse?
Dorian continues, “You know Vanya’s going to have questions. Hard ones.”
“I know.”
“And you know she’s not going to like the answers.”
I meet his eyes. “I know that too.”
The memory of Ember pressed against me in the transport floods back unbidden. Her desperate kiss after she thought I’d died. The pure relief in her eyes. And later, in the clearing, the way she gasped my name when I finally stopped fighting what we both wanted. The way her dragon scales gleam silver along her collarbones when pleasure overtook her, a perfect mirror to my own slate ones.
Caleb’s assessment is clinical. “If something happened out there that compromised your professional relationship with her daughter, we need to know. Now.”
My control frays slightly. “Nothing compromising happened.”
“But somethingdidhappen,” Caleb presses.
I don’t confirm. Don’t deny. Just look out the window, my fingers curling into fists so tight my knuckles crack. The air in the cabin suddenly feels too thin, too hot. So much has happened.
There’s silence.
Dorian breaks it, unexpectedly. “For what it’s worth, Ember’s not a child. And you’re not a predator.”
My head snaps around, dragon-fast.
Dorian shrugs. “I’ve seen the way you look at her. And the way she looks at you.” He pauses. “Just saying… whatever you’re beating yourself up about, might not be as black and white as you think.”
For a moment, I hear Ember’s voice echoing in my memory:“I’m not a child. Stop treating me like one.”The fierce determination in her eyes as she pulled me closer. The surety in her movements, despite her inexperience.
Caleb asks quietly, “Did you compromise her safety?”
“No.” The word comes immediately, certain. Because if anything, what happened between us made me more determined to protect her. Made me fight harder, think faster, risk more.
“Did you take advantage of her vulnerability?”
“No.” I pause. “She made her own choices.”
Her own choice to kiss me first. Her own choice to follow me. Her own choice to reach for me in the darkness, to whisper that she wanted this—wanted me—with a conviction that broke all my careful discipline.
Caleb nods slowly. “Then the rest is between you and her.”
My response is bleak. “Vanya’s going to kill me.”
Dorian grins. “Probably. But you’ll die having lived, at least.”
I don’t find it funny. Because all I can think about is the possibility of never touching Ember again. Never seeing that look in her eyes when she comes apart under my hands. Neverfeeling that impossible connection that makes too many years of solitude seem like nothing but preparation for her.
The jet begins its descent into Seattle, rain streaking the windows, city lights seeping through clouds. My nerves stretch tighter with each mile, closer to safety, closer to consequences. The dragon inside me paces restlessly.
“Whatever happens with Vanya,” Caleb says quietly, “you have clan support. You brought Ember home alive. That counts.”
“Not sure it’ll count enough,” I respond. Not when Vanya realizes exactly what happened to her daughter in my care.
“Guess we’ll find out,” Caleb says, almost smiling.
The jet taxis toward the Aurora hangar; sleek black building, security visible even from here. Through the window, I spot the reception committee waiting on the tarmac.
