Delia has earned far more than that.
“Wait for me,” I repeat.
“Come get me when you’re through, Lord of Fire,” Delia murmurs under her breath, just loud enough for me to hear. “I’ll be right here.”
“Count on it,” I answer, letting her see it—that sliver of unguarded truth.
Then, I turn and stride out into the Broken Plains sunlight.
The flap falls closed behind me, cutting off the warm, herb-scented air of the infirmary and replacing it with the raw heat of camp.
Smoke, iron, ember.
The low rumble of mines and forges.
The rhythmic clank and hiss of pulleys, carts, and levers—Nightfall’s answer to elevators—hauling ore from the depths.
Kael and Alaric wait just beyond the pavilion, already armored in their respective magics—Kael with the scent of brine and storm clinging to him, Alaric carrying an edge of cold, sharp as a drawn blade.
“We must meet with Dagan,” I begin.
“Fuck, no, I am for home,” Alaric barks.
“No, he’s right. All of us must go to the Vein together,” Kael says, skipping pleasantries. “We will need all four Lords to reinforce the wards. The last sabotage attempt was too close.”
Kael is right.
So am I.
The Dragon Lord snarls, but we both ignore him.
Nightfall’s caves and mines are restless.
Idris has pushed harder against my borders than ever before.
The cracks in the wards are not yet fractures—but left untended, they could be.
Alaric nods after a moment.
“So be it. But we go now, my viyella is too long without me,” he growls and stomps ahead.
Kael slows his pace. He studies me from beneath heavy lashes.
“You do not wish to leave her. Believe me, it does not get easier.”
My jaw ticks.
“It is not a matter of wishing,” I say tightly. “It is a matter of necessity. The Ember Vein will not defend itself.”
Alaric pauses, and turns. He steps closer, clapping a hand on my shoulder, his grip firm enough that flames lick at my skin in reflex.
Illusion coils around him like smoke, but beneath it, I see the worry in his eyes.
“Sorry, Thorne. I forgot you’ve only had your mate a few days.”
“Feels longer,” I reply, and I know he knows what I’m feeling—this restlessness, this burning ache to be with her at all times.
They both do.
