Of course, she could teleport. She was a dragon, a true one, no matter how flawed. Even the emptiness of space would not kill her, at least not right away.
Teeth bared, she landed in the void behind the ship, cold silence wrapping around her like ink poured into water. Behind her, theSilandashrank in the distance, streaking away, now just a memory she wasn’t ready to lose.
Then it was gone.
Her hearts pounded beneath her scales.It’s done.
The energy core flared beside her, wild and glowing with barely contained power. Reaching out, she seized it in her claws, the heat licking her limbs, and, without hesitation, she turned and hurled it toward the enemy.
Toward the tear.
Toward the end.
She knew, with chilling clarity, that this act would end her.
And in the cruel symmetry of fate, her mate would follow.
When dragons bonded, their life threads wove into one another in an unbreakable tether. If one perished, the other would not survive. It was as immutable as gravity, as constant as the Weaving itself.
She and Fenrith had spoken of it the day she left.
No ceremony or grand farewells between them, only quiet words honestly exchanged. They both understood what this mission truly was—her father’s final sentence, masked as duty. It was the kind of cruelty he specialized in.
Now, as she barreled toward her final destination, the cold pressing harder against her golden hide, all her thoughts circled back to him—Fenrith.
His grin, always a little too sharp. The way he wore his human form, because she liked the feel of his hands that way. The softness of his voice touching her mind when they were apart. Each memory sparked into being, bright and brief, then vanished before she could grasp it.
But for a heartbeat, he was there with her, even the emptiness of a universe between them was not far enough to mute the bond.
Whether real or imagined, he was presentin the weightless touch down her spine, like his spirit had slipped through the veil to join her, just once more.
I’m so sorry.
Tears came, diamonds, rare and luminous, cutting as they fell, etching shallow wounds along her hardened cheeks and jaw.
Most dragons never lived long enough or broke hard enough to cry.
But here she was, dropping the fine crystals into space, one after another, each one glittering and vanishing into the darkness as she approached her end.
With every beat of her wings, more of her fighters died, each loss punching new holes into the already-battered wreckage of her soul.
She didn’t know if she could finish it. How could she hope to succeed? She’d doomed them all for nothing.
And then, she feltit.
Awestruck, she nearly halted her advance as the Weaving opened before her, fierce and unbound, its song spiraling in all directions at once. Possibility unraveled before her in an inferno of becoming and destruction, colliding and collapsing at the edge of everything.
Tightening her grip on the core,realitiesunfolded faster than thought.
Civilizations flared to life, bright, hopeful, then gone. The Wraith spread unchecked, blackening system after system, until only ruin remained. And then, worst of all, came the nothing. A cold, dead absence where even memory couldn’t survive.
Her lungs stuttered, halted in recognition.
It reeked of betrayal, and of her father's pact with the Outsiders.
Yet, it was the next vision, slamming through her body, that stole her air and locked her limbs as if gravity had multiplied in an instant.
Her ship, broken.
