“No. You don’t.” Selene’s voice is firm. “And Rurik knows that. It’s why he’s sitting outside instead of in here—why he backed off when you told him to. Those instincts are howling, but he’s not going to act on them unless you want him to.” She sighs. “Which you clearly aren’t ready for, and that’s completely understandable.”
I stare at her. At the claiming mark on her chest. At the quiet certainty in her gaze.
“This happened to you.” It’s not a question.
“Yes.” She sits back on her heels. “Drayke—the one who leads the Brotherhood—his instincts were screaming about me. I fought it for weeks. Fought him. Fought everything.” A soft laugh. “And then I realized I was fighting the one person who would burn down the world to keep me safe.”
The words settle over me, heavy and strange. I have no idea what to do with them. No idea how to process anything that’s happened in the last hour.
“Get some rest.” Selene rises, gathering her supplies. “I’ll be back in a few hours to check on you. The door has no lock fromthe outside—you can leave whenever you want, go wherever you want. No one’s going to force you to stay.”
“But Rurik will follow.”
“At a distance. Yes.” No apology in her tone. “He can’t help it. And honestly? There are worse things than having someone that stubborn watching your back.”
She leaves.
The door clicks shut behind her, and I’m alone.
Not alone. Rurik is outside. Waiting. Watching. Ready to crash through if I scream again.
Why doesn’t that terrify me more?
I pull my knees to my chest. The scalpel rests in my lap. The bandages on my arms are clean and white. My stomach is full for the first time in weeks.
Nothing makes sense.
The dragons who captured me were monsters. Cold, calculating, using my blood for dark purposes. The dragons here—these Brotherhood dragons—are different. They sit on floors. They show vulnerability. They send women with soup and gentle touches.
It could still be a lie. An elaborate ruse.
But if it is, it’s a very strange one.
Exhaustion drags at me. My vision blurs. Every muscle aches with a bone-deep weariness I’ve been fighting for too long.
Sleep. Just for a few minutes. The blade is right here. The exit is right there.
I don’t mean to close my eyes. To let my head fall back against the wall. To drift into darkness.
But between one breath and the next, the world goes quiet.
And for the first time in three weeks, no one comes to hurt me.
TWO
RURIK
Three days.
Three days of pacing this corridor like a caged animal, sleeping in snatches against cold walls, listening to muffled sounds from behind a door I’m not allowed to open—Selene’s gentle voice, the clatter of trays, and once, a scream that had me halfway through the oak before Drayke’s hand caught my shoulder.
She’s fine. Nightmare. Selene’s handling it.
Handling it. While I stand out here wearing grooves in ancient floors, useless as wings on a fish.
My dragon hasn’t stopped pacing either. Seventy-two hours ofprotect, guard, OURSthundering through my skull until I can’t tell where its demands end and my own thoughts begin. I’ve slept maybe six hours total. Eaten when someone shoved food into my hands. The rest of the time, I’ve been here. Waiting.
For what, exactly?
