Can’t hear.
Can’t breathe.
I can only watch the monster I love turn the world to ash while the ghost of my captor laughs through the flames.
The heat from Tarrakai’s breath licks at my skin.
But somehow, I feel safe.
Vessira disintegrates to ash. The falling motes land beside my face like gray snow.
The brand between my shoulder blades tingles in resonance.
A stark reminder of who’s still standing.
The inferno stops, the blaze receding, though Tarrakai’s power is anything but gone. No. It’s palpable. An undeniable weapon.
I go to him, his humid puffs drenching me.
But there is only one feeling:gratitude.
Tarrakai lowers his head, his belly, almost as if he’s submitting to me.
When my palm meets his scales, the hum of the cosmos answers, and for a single heartbeat, I remember what it feels like to be infinite.
I remember what it feels like to be soul-bound to the dragons.
As if this sacred rite is a truth in my blood.
“Thank you,” I breathe, and the prickle of tears sting my eyes.
But I can’t feel that here. Not now.
So, I lift the corners of my mouth, all cheek and audacity, and say, “I thought you weren’t Melding again until we’re fighting for Dravara.”
A short huff of hot air snorts from his nose derisively.
You are Dravara.
And his words stun me.
But I have no time to process it?—
“My love, we need to keep going. They’re almost inside the castle,” Kael urges, his bloodied shoulder and ribs crippling his movements, and the Caelorian cannons still thunder through the skies.
“Let me heal you,” I plead, grimacing at the sight of the crusted blood of his ribs.
“Later,” he grunts. “Let’s end this.”
Tarrakai’s hulking shadow shrinks, the grinding sounds of reforming bones crackling through the air, reverberating off the walls.
Ronyn’s stark naked frame lies heavy on the floor, his face tipped into a goofy smile.
His eyes fly open. “That was fucking incredible,” he declares, bounding to his feet.
And I can’t help it—a laugh rips from my throat unbidden.
I don’t try to stop it.
