The cool breeze rustles the leaves above me, but then another wind rises—stronger and heavier. A shadow passes over me, and I look up, startled.
An obsidian black dragon lands with a powerful thud, sending a gust of wind rippling through the grass.
A flicker of awe catches behind my ribs as Thane dismounts, moving with a quiet ease. The dragon lowers its massive head, and Thane strokes its jaw, his fingers brushing over dark scales with practiced familiarity.
Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, he leans his forehead against the beast’s thick neck. They stay like that for a long moment. There is something deeply intimate about the gesture, a quiet understanding shared between them.
Gods. I wonder what it’s like to be chosen like that.
Then Thane steps back.
With a mighty beat of its wings and a kick of its back feet, the dragon lifts off. The wind from its departure whips around us, sending Thane’s long leather duster flaring out behind him.
He turns, his gaze landing on me. I hadn’t meant to watch, but now that he sees me, I don’t look away.
As he strides toward me, I take in the details of his black warrior leathers, the orange and red flame sigils stitched into the fabric—a clear mark of the Fire Clan. A fire wielder.
“That’s Xaroth,” he says when he’s just a few feet away. “We bonded when I was sixteen.”
I look up, watching his gaze trail after the dragon’s fading silhouette.
“He’s restless.” His lips twitch, but the expression doesn’t reach his eyes. “We both are.”
I stay quiet, my eyes drifting back to the sky where Xarothhad disappeared, in awe of the majesty of it.
Thane shifts on his feet, watching me. “How are you?” His voice is softer now. “Are you finding everything you need?”
I nod slowly. “I’m okay. Yes, thank you.”
The words sound like they belong to someone else. I look away, my gaze drifting toward the forest beyond the lake.
Thane rubs the back of his neck, hesitating before trying again. “How’s your room?”
I exhale slowly, realizing he isn’t going to leave. Resigning myself to conversation, I shift to face him, my fingers tracing absent patterns on the ground.
“It’s fine,” I say, looking back toward the forest. Maybe if I don’t look at him, he will leave sooner. “Warm, quiet. It serves its purpose.” I don’t elaborate—I don’t want to.
But Thane doesn’t move, as if waiting for something more.
“Good. That’s good,” Thane exhales, shifting his weight slightly. “I know this place can be . . . overwhelming at first. It takes time to adjust.” He pauses, watching me carefully, then adds, “If you need anything, you can ask me.”
I don’t have a response so I keep my eyes on the trees. He glances toward the horizon, then back at me. After a moment, he speaks again.
“Xaroth wasn’t easy to bond with,” he admits, his gaze flicking to the sky. “He was wild. Unpredictable.”
His tone is light, but there’s something behind it—something unspoken. He shifts his stance, crossing his arms.
“Dragons don’t just accept anyone. They choose. And once they do, it’s for life—the life of the rider, that is, since Dragons live for so much longer . . . ” He glances at me then, studying my reaction. “He taught me more about myself than any battle or teacher ever could.”
Something stirs in me—a flicker of curiosity. I finally meet his gaze.
“How did you do it?” The words slip out before I can stop them. “How did you earn his trust?”
Thane raises an eyebrow, then smirks—just slightly. “I didn’t.” A beat. “Not at first.”
He crosses his arms, gaze following a distant cloud. “He chose me—but that didn’t mean he trusted me. He tested me. Pushed every limit I had. Tried to break me more times than I care to count.”
I can’t help it—a small smile tugs at my lips, almost a laugh.
