“You don’t have to,” he murmured. “Not right now.”
My eyes blurred as the castle’s stone corridor came into view, torches flickering against banners, the echo of our footsteps bouncing through the silence that followed the storm.
Zander carried me deeper into the heart of the fortress, past familiar turns and cold arches, until he pushed open a door and stepped into his chambers.
He didn’t hesitate. Just crossed the room and laid me gently atop the thick navy blankets of his bed, the scent of him already warm in the space.
I blinked up at the ceiling, breath shallow. While most of the violet on my pendant had disappeared, it pulsed faintly, tired, uncertain.
Zander knelt beside the bed and cupped the side of my face.
“You’re safe,” he whispered.
But I didn’t feel safe.
I feltempty.
Still, I turned into his palm, because the storm,mystorm, had been killing me, and somehow he’d held it back.
Held me.
Until I remembered how to breathe again.
The storm was gone, but its ghost lingered, in the burn beneath my skin, in the raw ache curling in my spine, in the silence that followed like the hush after a scream.
I lay on his bed, still in my leathers, my braid undone and clinging damp to my shoulder. Zander hadn’t moved from where he knelt beside me, one hand on the mattress, the other still cradling my face like he was afraid I’d disappear if he let go.
His voice came low. Rough. “Why did you let it get that far?”
I turned my head just slightly, looking at him through half-lidded eyes. “I didn’t let it. I couldn’t stop it.”
He said nothing for a moment, but I could see the tension in his jaw. The unspoken fear behind his silver-blue gaze.
“I don’t think dragons kill riders who lose control,” I whispered. “I think the riders kill themselves, because without an anchor… without someone to take the edge off their power…” My voice cracked. “It just tears them apart.”
Zander’s fingers curled tighter into the blanket. “You scared me,” he said, voice hoarse. “Don’t do that again.”
“I wish I could promise that,” I said, the bitter truth bleeding from every word. “But whatever you did tonight, whatever Kaelith and Hein helped you do… it’s a temporary fix. The magic’s still there, and I haveno outlet.” I looked at him, tired and raw. “It’s building again, Zander. And next time…”
He leaned forward, his forehead brushing mine. His breath ghosted over my lips.
“Then let me give you one,” he said.
And he kissed me.
Not with restraint.
Not with hesitation.
But with the force of someone who had nearly lost everything and couldn’t bear to let go again.
His mouth claimed mine, fire to storm, and my hands tangled in the front of his tunic before I even realized I was moving. His kiss was molten, desperate and aching andreal. He tasted like thunder, like magic, like every secret I’d tried to bury in the dark.
The bed shifted beneath us as he leaned in, one arm sliding around my shoulders, pulling me closer like I was something he needed to survive.
And in that moment, maybe I was.
Because when he kissed me, the magic stilled.
