His breathing was becoming shallower now, each exhale a struggle that rattled through his massive chest. The amber eyes that had always burned so bright were dimming.
“The first time I saw you hurling yourself off that dragon like you could fly on fury alone,”he whispered.“I knew you were going to change everything.”
“Kaelen, please?—”
“Wildfire.”The word carried all the affection he’d ever shown me, all the warmth and pride and bone-deep fondness that had grown between us.“You burn brighter than any star I’ve ever seen. Brighter than all the stars combined.”
His massive head pressed against me one last time, scales warm against my tear-soaked cheek. A gentle rumble vibrated through his chest. Something that felt like contentment. Like peace.
“I’m glad I got to call you mine,”he breathed.“I’m glad I got to belong to someone who burns like you do.”
And then the light in his eyes flickered once, twice?—
And went out.
For a moment silence was absolute.
Then fire cleaved through my chest.
It was as if someone had reached inside me and ripped out something fundamental—not just my heart, but my soul.
The agony was blinding, endless. It consumed everything. My vision, my thoughts, my will to keep breathing. For a wild moment I wanted to follow him into whatever darkness waited beyond. Wanted to let the pain drag me under until I stopped feeling anything at all.
Because how was I supposed to survive this? How was anyone supposed to survive having their soul carved away?
Someone was sobbing—raw, desperate sounds that tore at the air. It took me a moment to realise the noises were coming from me.
Boots crunched through the underbrush toward me, but I couldn’t look up. Couldn’t tear my gaze away from Kaelen’s still form, from the way the light had simply... stopped.
But as the pain ebbed, what rushed in to fill the space was worse.
Emptiness. Cold, yawning emptiness where Kaelen’s presence had lived. Where his voice had whispered jokes and observations and fierce, protective affection. Where his warmth had wrapped around my consciousness like armour made of sunlight.
The magnificent, impossible dragon who’d caught me when I fell, who’d called me wildfire and meant it like a prayer—he was gone, and the bond that had connected us was severed so completely I couldn’t even feel the echo of where it had been.
The world narrowed to the terrible absence where Kaelen had been, the emptiness that stretched on and on until I was drowning in it.
46
Ashterion watched the former human collapse over her dragon’s corpse, her sobs tearing through the forest silence.
The sound was… unnerving. He’d witnessed countless deaths, orchestrated more than he cared to count, but there was something raw about this grief that unsettled him.
The dragon’s death hadn’t been intentional. The creature had swerved at the last moment, putting itself directly in the path of a shadow spear meant to disable, not kill. An unfortunate miscalculation, but war was full of such miscalculations.
Still, feeling the bond sever—the psychic scream that had rippled through the air when the connection snapped—Ashterion found himself regretting the necessity of it. Dragon bonds were sacred things, even among enemies.
Around him, the aftermath of their ambush was proceeding exactly as planned. Elowyn had successfully captured both Cindrissian and Shaelith. Merrick had subdued Varyth and the pink-haired female Ashterion didn’t recognise.
They’d already secured several other members of Varyth’s inner circle from earlier strikes.
All that remained was collecting the shadow fire wielder.
The female’s sobs gradually quieted, her body going unnaturally still against the dragon’s scales. Ashterion stepped closer, shadows lashing around him. Perhaps she would come quietly, broken by grief and the loss of her bond.
Then she turned.
For a heartbeat, her expression was vulnerable. The look of someone expecting to find comfort, a friend come to offer solace in the darkness. The hope that flickered across her features was painfully human.
