“It could,” he said. “But it doesn’t have to.”
She nodded slowly. “So what do we do?”
He leaned in and pressed his forehead to hers. “We fight for it. We make room for each other, even when the dragons rage. Even when the council pries. Even when things don’t go our way, or when I make you so mad the sky falls.”
Her breath caught. He kissed her again, slow and grounding. Then he whispered against her lips, “Stay tonight. Just, stay.”
She didn’t answer with words. She curled into him, pulled the blanket tighter around both of them, and closed her eyes to the sound of his heartbeat beneath her ear.
There, in a dorm high above the torches of the Asgar Training Academy, with dragons sleeping and their fate on pause, two hearts rested in silence, for the first time in what felt like lifetimes. Together.
The fall morning broke over the Asgar Training Academy with sharp mountain light, pale and clear. The snow on the ridges had not melted overnight, but the skies had turned to sapphire, cloudless and wide. Wind rustled through the pines lining the upper walls, tugging at the cloaks of early-rising cadets already making their way across the field toward dragon pens and sparring rings.
Thaelyn stepped out of Thorne’s dorm with his cloak still draped over her shoulders.
She pulled it tighter around herself, trying not to feel self-conscious about her bed-tousled braid, bare face, or the lazy glow still tingling across her skin from the quiet night before. Thorne followed a step behind, freshly washed, leathers on, shirt half-buttoned, hair still damp at the ends. He said nothing at first, just walked quietly with her down the steps, boots striking the stone.
As they reached the intersection near the central tower, he glanced sideways at her.
“You’re thinking too loudly.”
She gave him a look. “Am I?”
“You’re worried they’ll notice.”
“Theywillnotice,” she said, exasperated. “I didn’t exactly sneak out under the cover of invisibility. I walked into your room in full view of the whole corridor.”
“Youarethe talk of the riders’ barracks lately.”
“Not helping.”
He smirked and reached over to tug the edge of his cloak tighter around her. “Don’t worry. You wear scandal well.”
They ascended the stairs quickly, boots echoing up the narrow spiral. Her braid had come loose again, and Thorne’s scent clung to her skin, a mix of his soap and something warm she couldn’t name.
She gave him a mock glare, then stopped in front of her dorm room. “Wait here.”
“Yes, General Marren.”
She pushed open the dorm door and stepped inside, her heart still half in his hands.
Sunlight streamed through the slatted windows, spilling acrossthe tidy chaos of their shared space. Blankets were half-tossed, weapons leaned against bedposts, and steam curled up from a kettle on the heating rune.
Iri looked up from her bunk and nearly choked on a slice of dried fruit. “Well, well, well.”
Feyra turned from the mirror, eyes widening. “Look who decided to show up.”
Vaeryn peeked up from her cot, already lacing up her boots. “Was it a dragon attack? Or just a very thorough inspection?”
“I swear to the Gods,” Thaelyn muttered, shutting the door behind her, “if one of you makes asingle sound, ”
“You didn’t come home last night,” Iri said dramatically, hands to her chest. “Confirmed. That is not just a bad hairdo. That is, I slept on a prince’s chest and woke up wrapped in stolen luxury hair.”
Feyra added, “And that’s not her cloak. That’s aman’scloak.”
“It’s not like that,” Thaelyn lied, moving swiftly to her trunk and pulling out fresh leggings and a clean undershirt.
“Oh, it’sexactlylike that,” Vaeryn said, barely concealing a grin. “Did he make you dinner and breakfast?”
