A shiver ran through me, not of fear, but of certainty. "Yes," I whispered. "With my life. With Klaus."
His expression softened. Then he stepped back. And the man I loved exploded into golden flame and wings and scales. I gasped, stumbling backward with Klaus as the dragon lowered himself to the ground, enormous but… gentle. His eye was level with mine, bright gold, warm, waiting.
Then I understood. He wanted us to climb on.
"Komm," I whispered to Klaus. "He won't let us fall."
Klaus pressed against me. He was still trembling, but I could tell he was thrilled too.
"Cool!" he exclaimed.
When he climbed onto Gideon's back, he let out a tiny laugh. I climbed on behind him, gripping the ridges of scales along Gideon's neck. The warmth of his dragon form seeped into my bones.
Without warning, he launched into the sky. I clung to Klaus, who let out a whoop of pure joy, high and bright, echoing over the rooftops. Wind roared past us, cool and wild. The ground fell away. And I felt free. So incredibly free, I let out a shriek of pure, undiluted joy! Nothing I had ever experienced before in my life compared to this feeling of flying, of sitting on… the man I loved… feeling his warmth between my legs, it was… obscene. Arousing in a strange way that I didn't have words for. And comforting, all at once.
The villa shrank into a toy house. The city opened beneath us in all its broken, wounded beauty. A laugh escaped me—shaky, breathless, disbelieving.
I was riding a dragon.
I was riding Gideon.
The man I loved.
The man who had come for me.
The man who was taking me home.
The wind carried Klaus's laughter, my own, and the dragon's deep rumble of happiness.
And for the first time in years—Years!—Ifelt free.
If the flight had felt like a dream, the landing jolted me back to reality. Gideon dropped into the ruins behind an old factory, wings folding in with the fluid grace of something ancient. Klaus and I slid off his back as he lowered himself, and I steadied myself against the cool bricks as he shifted shape again. Scales vanished, wings tucked into nothing, and suddenly he was just Gideon—stark-butt naked, breathless, beautiful. Klaus giggled, "Er is nackend—he's naked."
Gideon blushed, actually blushed, and grabbed his uniform, which he must have stashed, pulling it on quickly, urgency replacing every gentle moment we'd shared in the sky.
"We need to get the others," he said. "Now."
I nodded. His hand found mine, warm and grounding, and we hurried through the dim streets to Elke's building. My heart nearly burst when Axel flung the door open the second we knocked.
"You're back!" he gasped, voice breaking. "And you… you found Klaus!"
Before I could answer, Hilde peeked out from behind him, wide-eyed and smudged and so heartbreakingly small. Then she darted forward, grabbing the hem of my dress like she was afraid I might vanish again.
"We're going someplace safe," Gideon told them. "All of us."
Elke stared at him like he was a fairy tale stepping into her flat, like she wasn't sure he was real.
"You're the American," she whispered. "The… fiancé."
Her eyes flicked between us, confused and hopeful and a little jealous.
"I'll keep everyone safe," Gideon said gently. "Thank you for watching them."
She nodded, stunned. But not too stunned to ask, "Do you have… a friend by any chance?"
Gideon gave her a small smile, but he didn't answer other than to wave goodbye and usher us outside again—me, Klaus, Axel, and Hilde—all following Gideon like he was some kind of guardian angel in a leather jacket.
We took a taxi and crossed into Charlottenburg, the heart of the British sector. The devastation thinned here, still present, of course, but the buildings stood straighter, the sidewalks clearer. Shops along the Kurfürstendamm had lights again. A tram rattled by. A café with boarded windows had a handwritten sign promisingKaffee-Ersatztomorrow morning.
