My stomach clenches. Traitor.
The woman’s attention flicks from me to the dragon on the ground, then back to me. Recognition crosses her face. Understanding.
“Out.” She doesn’t look at Rurik when she says it. Keeps her focus on me.
“Selene—”
“Rurik.” Her voice carries quiet authority. “Out.”
He hesitates. I see it in the set of his jaw, the way his fists curl against his thighs. He doesn’t want to leave. Every line of his body screams reluctance.
But he goes.
Unfolds from the ground with surprising grace for someone so large. Moves to the threshold without looking at me, though I feel his attention like a weight. At the edge, he pauses.
“I’ll be right outside,” he says to me, not the woman. “If you need anything.”
Then he’s gone.
The door closes behind him with a quiet click. The woman—Selene—sets the tray on the table beside the surgical instruments. Then, to my shock, she lowers herself to the floor. Back against the wall, legs folded beneath her.
“I’m Selene.” Her voice is soft but steady. “I’m a Fire-Bringer. Just like you.”
My grip tightens on the scalpel. “Another one.” The words come out flat. Bitter. Being a Fire-Bringer is why they took me. Why they drained me. Why that woman smiled while my blood flowed into ancient carvings.
She holds up her hand, and gentle flames dance across her skin. Controlled. Deliberate. Nothing like the wild inferno that poured out of me minutes ago. “Eight weeks ago, I was exactly where you are now. Terrified. Furious. Certain every dragon wanted me dead.”
The fire flickers on her palm—warm orange, dancing shadows. My fire had been different. Hotter. Angrier.
Because I have no control. No idea what I’m doing. Because I’m?—
“You don’t have to trust them.” Selene closes her fist, extinguishing the flame. “The dragons, I mean. I’m not asking you to trust anyone. But I thought—” She hesitates. “I thought maybe it would help to know you’re not alone. That someone else has been where you are.”
“Where I am.” The words taste bitter. “You have no idea where I am.”
“Underground chamber. Channels carved in rock. That woman with the raven hair telling you your blood sings.” Selene holds my gaze, unflinching. “Feeling like meat being carved up for a purpose you can’t fathom. Waking up in a new place and wondering if the monsters just changed faces.”
My breath catches.
“I can’t claim to know everything you went through.” Her voice gentles. “But I know enough. They had me for a little over a day before Drayke found me. One day of being drained. Of watching my blood flow into carvings I couldn’t understand. A single day that felt like an eternity.” A muscle twitches in her jaw. “You had three weeks of that. So, yes. I have some idea—and I know yours was worse. A lot worse.”
The scalpel lowers. I don’t consciously decide to drop my guard—my arm just gives out, too exhausted to maintain the position. I slump against the wall, sliding down until I’m sitting on the floor.
Selene stays where she is. Gives me space.
“How did you—” My voice cracks. I hate it. Hate the weakness it reveals. “How did you survive it?”
“I didn’t. Not really.” A sad smile curves her lips. “The person I was before—she died in that chamber. I’m different now. Changed.” She pauses. “But that’s not necessarily a bad thing. The person I was before couldn’t do this.”
Fire dances across her hand again. Stronger this time. More controlled.
“I’m not asking you to trust the dragons,” she continues. “I’m asking you to eat. Let me check your wounds. Nothing more.”
The smell of the soup drifts toward me. My stomach cramps with hunger—real hunger, not the dull emptiness I’d grown used to in captivity. When was the last time I ate? I can’t remember.
It could be poisoned. Drugged. Another layer of manipulation.
But if they wanted me dead or drugged, they could have done it while I was unconscious. Could have done it a dozen times over in the past two days.
