“Keep going,” Kael commands.
“Lady Sylvaine believes the myth to be true—that Melders were suspended in their mortal skin, somehow, unable to Meld into their dragon form. She believes…” Seren pauses for a moment, sifting through her memories, selecting her words with precision. “She believes they walk among us. She warned me: dragon kind would return. That when they do,thisis the beginning of Melders returning to both land and sky,” she finishes, still staring at Tarrakai in awe.
“Where ruins burn and the Flame-heart sleeps,
The dragon stirs in the soul it keeps.
And in the skies where wild winds sing,
Beast and bond form a timeless ring.”
The words from the prophecy spill from my lips, unbidden.
We all stare, silent. Letting the story and the prophecy sink into our bones. I spin the words around, making sense of it all.
Rubi raises a finger in thought, mind working. “Does this mean, then… that if Tarrakai does thisMeldingthing back into human form… it’ll be Ronyn?”
We all look around at each other, desperate, hopeful at the thought.
“Yes, the insufferable vessel—Ronyn, as you say—will return to you when I Unmeld,”Tarrakai grunts through the tether.
“Yes! Tarrakai confirms it,” I say, hope and emotion clashing in a collision of desperation.
“Well, fucking do it, then!” Jax urges, voice breaking, and I can see the grief she’s refusing to give in to.
And for once, I feel for her. Because Ronyn has a way of making his way into the hearts of everyone he meets, and Jax—as brash and cold as she is—isn’t immune.
“Oi! El!”Ronyn’s voice careens down the tether.“Ask Jax if she wants to spend a night with a dragon shifter.”I can practically feel his eyebrows wagging shamelessly through the tether.
“Holy Stars, Ronyn. Not the fucking time,”I snap back, but there’s no bite in my words.
“Imagine if I got to keep the tail, though? The things I could do…”he trails off wistfully.
“Oh gods, Ronyn. Stop it!”I hiss back.
“But you have to admit, it’s a compelling invitation, isn’t it?”he asks incredulously.
Tarrakai expels a puff of steam from his nostrils again, as if he’s already exasperated with our human emotions and conversation.
“You exhaust me, humans. I will not Meld again until we fight for Dravara’s true monarchy. I will slumber. Regain my strength. Tell the Ronyn human to prove his worthiness,”Tarrakai commands in an aggrieved rumble.
“Will you Meld if you are called on by your queen?”I ask, imbuing my voice with authority.
He grunts in agitation.“You are not Queen yet.”
Then, the crack of bone snapping and the char of fire pluming into the atmosphere claim the moment.
Tarrakai’s beastly form contorts, snaps, breaks, bends, and remakes itself.
Scales bend to sinew.
Flames wink out in place of flesh.
Wings give way to muscle.
And in the wake of the most powerful dragon in the known realms, there’s my best friend: Ronyn.
His crumpled form emerges behind the plume of steam.
