A place where riders are made—or broken. From what I’ve read, the cliffs are weathered, ancient. The trail carved by the passage of those who came before me. The stories say that Velkar, the first dragon to bond with a rider, forged this path himself, marking it as sacred.
No one can force a dragon to choose them.
The bond is earned. Tested. Proven.
I shift in my saddle, adjusting my grip on the reins when I hear it—the sound of a horse slowing behind me, then matching my pace. I glance to my side.
Thane.
Lyra immediately notices. Her eyes dart between us—quick, knowing. Then, without a word, she nudges her horse forward.
“Actually,” she says, far too loudly, “I’ve been meaning to ask Valen about dragon bonding.” She doesn’t wait for a response. Just moves ahead before I can question it—before I can even think of stopping her.
I narrow my eyes at her back as she pulls alongside Valen, chatting like this was always her plan.
It wasn’t. She left me—with Thane.
I exhale through my nose, adjusting my grip on the reins again, pretending I don’t notice the way my pulse has shifted—just slightly.
Thane rides beside me—steady, silent. His posture looksrelaxed, but I know better. It’s the same stance he wears on the training field. Or walking into strategy meetings. Relaxed but ready.
Like he’s already assessed the terrain and knows how this ends.
We ride in silence.
One minute. Two. Maybe five.
I stop counting—too caught in the steady cadence of our horses. And the way my entire left side feels lit with awareness.
Every nerve pulled tight. Every breath tuned to his.
I glance at him, just once, from the corner of my eye. His jaw’s set. Eyes forward. That familiar mask of control.
But I know him now—well enough to see the tension riding his shoulders.
He feels it too.
This . . . whatever this is.
This thing between us—this ache, this pull, this impossible rhythm we can’t seem to step into—it’s too much.
I’m the Spiritborn. I’m learning magics I barely understand, tactics I haven’t had time to master. I’m bonding with a dragon, training for a war that’s coming too fast, and trying not to fall apart under the weight of it all.
I just needonething to be easy. Just one. And maybe . . . maybe that could be Kieran.
Kieran Vael.
He’s everything Thane isn’t—open, charming, uncomplicated. Handsome in that effortless, windswept way, all silver-blue eyes and sun-warmed confidence. He makes me laugh. Makes me feel like the world isn’t always on fire.
He’seasy. Maybe that’s the point.
There’s nothing to question. Nothing to guard against.
Because he doesn’t make my heart ache just by looking at me.
The memories come unbidden.
All the times Thane reached down and pulled me up—even though he was the one who knocked me down. His patience as I stumbled my way into this godsdamned role. The way he believed in me before I believed in myself. The quiet ways he checks on me when he knows I’m struggling, even if he never says a word.
