The question is loaded. We both know it.
“I’m whatever you need me to be.” The words come out low. Honest. “Ally. Guardian. Pain in your ass who won’t leave you alone no matter how many lists you make.” I hold her gaze. “Whatever gets you through this.”
Her grip tightens on my hand. For a moment, I think she’s going to pull away—retreat behind those defenses she builds so well.
Instead, she shifts forward on the bed. Closes the distance between us until her knees brush mine.
“You’re warm,” she says quietly. “Dragon heat. It’s...” She trails off, swallowing hard. “When she’s loud in my head, everything feels cold. But you’re warm.”
“Then stay close to me. Let me be your furnace.”
Her laugh is startled, broken. “That’s a terrible line.”
“I know. I’m better at fighting than flirting.” But I’m smiling too, and something in the tightness around her eyes eases.
She leans forward and rests her forehead against mine.
The contact jolts through me like lightning. Her breath ghosts across my lips. Her scent fills my lungs. I feel the flutter of her pulse where our temples touch, can feel the heat of her skin seeping into mine.
Kiss her. Claim her mouth. Make her forget that creature’s voice.
I hold still. This isn’t about what I want. It’s about what she needs.
“Stay.” The word is barely a whisper against my mouth. “Tonight. I don’t—“ Her voice breaks. “She’s louder when I’m alone.”
“Then you won’t be alone.”
I pull back just enough to see her face. The exhaustion there, the fear, the stubborn determination that refuses to break no matter how hard the world pushes. And underneath all of it—barely visible, carefully hidden—something that looks a lot like want.
Mine.My dragon rumbles.Ours. Protect.
But it’s not just the dragon anymore. It’s me. All of me.
“Whatever you need,” I tell her. “However long it takes. I’m not going anywhere.”
The brand on her wrist flares.
Somewhere in the depths of that mountain, Valdris watches through her stolen window.
But here, in this infirmary, with Aisling’s hand in mine and her breath warm on my skin—that creature doesn’t seem quite as invincible.
We’ll find a way to sever that link. To burn out the brand or override it with something stronger.
And if we can’t...
Then I’ll spend whatever time we have making sure Aisling knows she’s not alone. That someone sees her—not as a weapon, not as a tool, not as a means to an end.
Just her.
The woman who organizes chaos to survive it. Who keeps her guard high because the world keeps proving it’s necessary. Who looked a primordial dragon queen in the face and refused to bow.
The woman whose touch makes my blood sing and my dragon purr with satisfaction.
Mine to stand beside. Mine to fight for.
Valdris can watch all she wants.
She’s not getting her back.
