Wolfe remained perfectly still, watching me with an intensity that seemed to bore through to my soul.
The moonlight caught the chiseled planes of his face. He’d trimmed his beard right down until only a shadow graced his jaw. In my journal, I’d written about him having beads plaited into his beard. Now he wouldn’t be able to do that.
This cleaner look was no less rugged, but it made him appear sharper, meaner.
Something unreadable flickered in his already blank expression. It unnerved me. I didn’t know what I was walking into. Since we’d mostly been arguing, it was probably safe to assume this would be another clash between us.
The dragon beside him shifted, its massive head turning toward me with intelligence gleaming in those vibrant eyes. Then my heart warmed as the great beast lowered its enormoushead into a bow—a gesture of respect that left me frozen mid-step.
She’d done so on the beach in the Southern Isles, too. For some reason, it meant more to me now.
“My Lady,” Pyrion said, but her regal voice spoke the words to my mind.
I bowed and placed a hand to my heart, then I continued walking, stopping a few paces away from Wolfe.
I gazed up at him, feeling smaller than ever. It was strange. The dragon had to be about thirty feet long and stood fifteen feet from the ground, but somehow, Wolfe at seven feet felt gigantic to me.
“You may touch her if you wish,” Wolfe said, gesturing to Pyrion.
I set my books on a clean stretch of sand beside a weathered boulder and moved closer.
The dragon lowered her head slowly, until those amber eyes were level with mine. This close, I could see the intricate patterns etched into her obsidian scales—swirls and spirals that seemed to shift and dance in the moonlight.
My hand trembled as I reached out, my fingertips barely grazing the warm scales along her snout. The texture was nothing like I'd expected—not rough or cold but smooth as glass, radiating a gentle heat that seemed to pulse with the creature's heartbeat.
The moment my palm pressed flat against her hide, Pyrion leaned gently into my touch, and a sound like distant thunder rumbled within the barrel of her chest. It was a greeting, a recognition of something I couldn't recall but somehow still felt in my heart.
"She remembers you flying with her and Hedion," Wolfe explained. I could hear the wonder in his voice.
“Where is Hedion?”
“Scouting. He needs the practice. And it is better if he does it on his own.”
Pyrion groaned and brushed against my palm.
For a moment, standing there on the moonlit beach with this magnificent creature acknowledging me, I understood why the girl in my journal had fallen so completely. This wasn't just magic; it was belonging to something larger than myself.
“What are you doing out here?” Wolfe leaned closer, glancing from me to my books. “A bit late for practicing spells.”
My stomach clenched, nerves getting the better of me, but I kept my eyes on the dragon. “I needed to go for a walk.”
“You should have gotten someone to go with you. We can never be too safe even here.”
“I never went far from the house. As you can see.” Finally, I looked at him. “And I wanted to be alone.”
“I guess I spoiled your plans, then.”
“Looks that way.”
I wasn't sure, but something that might have been a smile ghosted across his lips.
I looked across at the sand where he’d sent the blue flames. It looked normal, like nothing had happened. “What were you doing?”
“Warding the place with stronger dragon magic. It’s an added layer of protection to prevent future attacks.”
“Didn’t the fire burn you when it touched you?”
“No. A dragon and its rider are one. Her magic is mine, and myFaemagic is hers.”
