“I don’t know how to explain it,” I say, stepping closer. “But I can feel her. Not just through the bond I’ve read about in the riders’ records, or in the books you’ve given me. It’s more than that.”
My voice falters, my breath hitching.
“It’s like she’s reaching for me—like sheknowsme. In a way dragons never have before.”
A beat.
“She wants me to come to her.”
Valen doesn’t speak. He just watches me—unmoving. The weight of his stare lands heavy across my skin. Then, slowly—too slowly—he sets his quill down with deliberate care, as if the slightest wrong movement might break something.
His eyes never leave mine. And when he speaks, his voice istoocalm.
“Who is Calryx, Amara?”
“My dragon.”
His silence stretches long enough that the excitement buzzing in my chest begins to fray.
“Valen?” I whisper.
“This makes sense,” he says at last, his voice flat. Measured.
I blink. “It does?”
He leans forward slowly, fingers lacing together, studying me—like I’ve shifted shape in front of him. A puzzle that won’t fit together.
“Dragons always call their riders,” he says carefully. “It’s how the bond begins.”
I nod, but it feels hollow. Impatience coils low in my chest. “I know that.”
“When a dragon calls, that person becomes their rider. The bond allows them to channel magics—amplifying the elemental gifts already in their blood, passed down through their clan. It accelerates their connection. Deepens their power.”
I frown. “But I alreadydidthat. I was able to channel before Calryx ever called to me.”
Valen exhales sharply through his nose, and this time, the look in his eyes isn’t neutral. It’s tight. Calculated. Laced with disbelief.
“Yes,” he says slowly. “And that should not have been possible.”
A slow shiver works its way down my spine.
I’ve known I’m different. That my connection to the elements—my ability to channel—had come before I had any right to wield it. But I had never stopped to think about what thatmeant.
I swallow hard. “So why did a dragon still call to me?”
Valen’s expression tightens. His hand presses against the desk, fingers curling slightly—like he needs something solidbeneath him. Something real.
“I don’t know,” he admits. His voice is quieter now, but no less intense. “But I do know this—the timing isnota coincidence.”
Something shifts in me. Like a fog slowly pulling back out to sea to reveal the shoreline.
I stiffen. “You mean—”
“Calryx didn’t call you untilafteryou merged all four elements.”
The words land between us like the final piece of a puzzle clicking into place. I’d spent so long wondering why I was different. Why my magics didn’t follow the rules.
But I never stopped to think aboutwhenit had begun to matter.
