My breath caught hard. Not because it was my name. But because of what it meant.
New beginnings. Second chances. Rising from ashes.
I stared at him, overwhelmed. “You can’t—Cole, that’s—”
“It’s yours,” he said. “Because you survived. Because you helped me survive. Because everything I want to build is because of you.”
I didn’t trust myself to speak.
Keegan elbowed me gently. “Yeah, we all cried the first time he told us too.”
“I didn’t cry,” Ignatius corrected.
“You sniffled,” Keegan said dryly.
Cole leaned into me just slightly, his shoulder brushing mine with deliberate intent. “Hey,” he murmured, “you okay?”
I nodded, but the tears threatening at the corners of my eyes said otherwise.
He brushed his thumb over my knuckles. “Good. Because we’re almost there.”
I looked ahead.
The mountain rose in front of us, steep and ancient and breathtaking, the sky bright and clear above it.
Cole squeezed my hand again. “Ready to fly?” he whispered.
We climbed out of the car and stared in wonder. Ignatius stood a few paces ahead, coat snapping in the wind, Keegan at his side. They looked at home here in a way I couldn’t quite understand. As if the mountain recognized them.
“This is far enough,” Ignatius said. “The ridge is stable, and there’s no wind shear today.”
Cole’s fingers tightened around mine. His uncertainty was visceral. The kind you felt when you were about to become something more than you’d ever allowed yourself to imagine.
I stepped closer, brushing my shoulder against his. “You don’t have to be afraid.”I was scared enough for both of us.
Cole let out a shaky breath, laughing under it because I wasn't ever going to be able to hide a damn thing from my man. “I’m about to turn into a dragon for the first time. I think fear is a given.” He turned, eyes shadowed with worry. “What if I lose control? What if I—”
“You won’t,” I said softly.
His throat bobbed. “Phoenix…”
“I love you,” I told him, simple and true. “Every version of you. Human. Dragon. Everything in between.” Something inside him steadied at that. I saw it happen—his posture easing, the coil of tension unwinding from his shoulders, the light shifting in his eyes.
Ignatius stepped closer, not intruding, but anchoring. “You are ready,” he said gently. “You have been ready for years. The only thing that was missing was freedom. And permission.” He gestured to Keegan. "Both of us are here in case you need us. We can both shift in an instant."
Cole exhaled slowly, a breath that trembled with the weight of a lifetime.
He looked at me once more.
I nodded.
Go.
He let go of my hand.
And the world held its breath.
It didn’t happen violently. It happened like breath becoming fire. A pulse of heat moved through the air—soft at first, then bright enough that the snow at Cole’s feet hissed. His body blurred around the edges, outlines bending like light through water. Clothes just disappeared. Then his shoulders rolled back, spine arching, and something ancient and luminous unfurled inside him.
