I glance down at her. She’s staring straight ahead, jaw set, wildflower still tucked behind her ear. “Most humans would be screaming by now.”
“Breakdown’s on the inside.” A muscle twitches in her cheek. “Outside’s better at pretending.”
Something that might be a smile tugs at my mouth. The dragon stirs with interest, surprised by the unfamiliar sensation.
“That thing—” She navigates us around a fallen log. “It called me Fire-Bringer.”
“You heard that?”
“Hard to miss. It was kind of busy threatening to kidnap me at the time.” She shoots me a sideways look. “So. Fire-Bringer. What does that actually mean?”
“It means you’re rare.” The words come out rougher than I intend. “Your bloodline carries something our kind hasn’t seen in centuries. Fire-Bringers can—” I stop. The poison is making it hard to think. Hard to filter what I should and shouldn’t tell her.
“Can what?”
“It’s complicated.”
She snorts. “Of course, it is.”
We walk in silence for a while. The cabin comes into view through the trees, its weathered logs and stone chimney achingly normal after everything that’s happened.
“You could have died.”
Her voice is quiet. I almost miss it.
“Fighting that thing. You could have died protecting me.”
“No.” The denial is immediate. Absolute. “I’ve killed dozens of rogues. He wasn’t a threat.”
“You’re bleeding out from poisoned claws and can barely walk.”
“A temporary inconvenience.”
She stops. Turns to face me fully, forcing me to stop too. This close, I can see the faint freckles across her nose. The storm gathering in her gray eyes.
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why protect me? You don’t know me. You told me to leave. And now you’re—” She gestures at the blood still seeping from my shoulder, at the wounds that would have killed a human twice over. “You’re this.”
I should lie. Should tell her it’s duty, obligation, the code that binds every Guardian to protect the innocent.
The dragon won’t let me.
“Because you’re mine to protect.”
The words hang between us. Her breath catches. Her pupils dilate.
Too much. You said too much.
“That’s...” She wets her lips. My gaze tracks the movement. “That’s a very intense thing to say to someone you just met.”
“Yes.”
“You’re not going to explain it.”
“No.”
