He wasn’t sure if she could hear him above the roar of the wind, now that they soared higher still into a realm of endless blue and white-gold light. But it hardly seemed to matter. Somewhere between the fear and the exhilaration, she had taken control. She steered the dragon now, her laugh bold, her smile unrestrained, an echo of freedom.
Kai watched her, this maddening woman who had so thoroughly unsettled his world, and smiled in return.
And yet, somewhere in the quiet corners of his mind, another image drifted forward unbidden and bittersweet. Adifferent woman, from what felt like another lifetime. Golden-haired, fire-eyed. A princess who had once flown beside him through the clouds.
The memory of Alina sliced through Kai’s chest with such brutal precision, he staggered beneath its weight. It was not merely recollection. It was pain made flesh, a wound long buried but never healed. He exhaled sharply and forced the thought back, locking it in that quiet, forbidden chamber of his mind where the ghosts of Haven and Alina still lingered like perfume in an empty room. To go there would be ruin. And he could not afford to be ruined. Not now.
‘There!’ Dawn cried, her voice ringing with triumph as she pointed ahead. ‘I see the city of Kairus!’
Kai stirred from the shadows of his past and helped guide the dragon towards the outskirts. Even from the heights of the sky, the city was a wonder to behold. Its statues towered like ancient gods above the buildings, the palace poised at the far end like a crown upon the earth, staring regally over all it claimed. But Kai’s attention was drawn elsewhere. To the dragons. A multitude of them, gathered like silent sentinels just beyond the city’s gates.
‘There are dozens,’ Dawn breathed, awe softening her tone. ‘We’ve found them.’
They descended, the dragon alighting gracefully some distance from the others. Kai leapt down and lifted his arms just in time to catch Dawn as she dropped into his embrace. For a moment, neither moved. He didn’t let go. Instead, they stood in stillness, smiling at one another, the silence between them soft and golden.
‘We found them,’ Dawn whispered again, her eyes shining with something brighterthan triumph.
‘We did.’
Kai reached up, unable to stop himself, and tucked a strand of her black hair behind her ear. He wished she would drop the glamour, reveal her true self so he could see her as she was meant to be, stare into the purple eyes that belonged only to her, not to the illusion she wore. But before either could say another word, the roar of the dragon shattered the moment, pulling them apart. Kai quickly turned to watch as the creature they had ridden approached its kin. The moment it drew near, the others lifted their heads in eerie unison and let out a chorus of thunderous roars, a sound that echoed across the horizon.
Kai’s hand brushed against Dawn’s arm, a silent warning.Careful.He had not summoned these beasts, nor had he seen so many gathered in one place before. Even wild dragons, unclaimed and unbound, stood among them. That they had come together spoke of purpose, though what purpose, he did not yet know.
They moved cautiously, the shifting sands beneath their boots the only sound for a moment. And then Kai saw her.
A woman stood at the very heart of the dragons, her presence commanding yet serene. She wore the armour of a phoenixian warrior, though Kai couldn’t say for certain. He had never been particularly diligent during lectures. Her head and most of her face were obscured by a veil of fabric, but her gestures were tender, her voice low and coaxing as she whispered to the towering beasts surrounding her.
Kai’s brow furrowed.
He motioned for Dawn to step behind him.
‘I can defend myself,’ she muttered, bristling.
‘You have no magic,’ he replied quietly. ‘You’re a wyverian now, remember? If they see you fight with a witch’s hand, they’ll know.’
She rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out in protest, butacquiesced, slipping behind him without another word.
Kai stepped forward, each movement measured, deliberate. The woman among the dragons tilted her head, her senses clearly alert to their presence. Slowly, the beasts began to shift, parting like the sea to reveal her in full, a figure cloaked not in grandeur, but in quiet authority.
She turned.
Her hand reached for the dagger at her hip.
Kai stilled, his brow knitting. It wasn’t wholly unexpected that she’d be weary—two wyverians striding into phoenixian lands would certainly be cause for alarm. But something deeper, something unseen, hung in the air like the moment before a storm.
Then he saw her eyes.
They were not red, as all phoenixians were born with, but a deep, familiar brown. The colour of scorched earth after rain, of hearth embers smouldering low. The kind of brown he had once known intimately, in another life, in another world.
They were the eyes of a memory. Of a ghost.
The woman raised her hands with slow purpose and peeled away the fabric from her face, then the veil from her hair. A golden cascade spilt down her back like sunlight unbound. It was her.
And yet, she was not.
Gone was the softness he had cherished, the gentleness etched into her features like lullabies sung in the dark. What remained now had been forged anew by fire, by grief, by war. Her face was sculpted from steel and vengeance, her gaze no longer searching, but certain.
‘Alina,’ Kai breathed, his voice scarcely more than a whisper before his knees gave way and he collapsed to the ground.
