She considers. That brilliant, clinical mind calculating variables, assessing risks, weighing costs against benefits.
“Deal.” Her hand extends. Formal. Professional. Completely at odds with the spark that jumps between us when our palms connect.
Her skin is cool against mine. Pale from weeks without sunlight. But there’s strength in her grip—more than I expected. More than she probably realizes.
“I should let you rest.” I force myself to release her hand. Step back. Put distance between us before I do something stupid like reach for her again. “The healers will want to check on you.”
“Rurik.” My name on her lips stops me at the door. “Thank you. For staying. For—“ She gestures vaguely. “All of it.”
“Thank me after I’ve actually taught you something.” I flash her a grin. “My methods are unconventional. Drayke calls themreckless. Auren calls them insane. You might hate me before this is over.”
“I might hate you anyway.”
“Noted.”
I close the door behind me and lean against the opposite wall. My heart is hammering. My dragon is practically purring.
Mate. She spoke to us. She made a deal with us.
“Not yet,” I mutter under my breath. “Patience.”
The word tastes foreign on my tongue. Three centuries of never waiting for anything, and now I’m standing in a hallway teaching myself to be still.
For her.
Gods help us both.
The war roomfeels smaller with all four brothers inside.
Drayke presides at the head of the table, and even seated, he commands the room. Centuries of leading the Brotherhood have carved that authority into his posture—the way he listens, the way he waits, the way his silence carries more weight than other men’s speeches. When he finally speaks, everyone stops to hear it.
Selene stands at his side. Their bond has changed things—softened his edges, sharpened hers. She’s no longer the new Fire-Bringer Drayke rescued eight weeks ago. She’s becoming something else. Something that makes even Auren pay attention when she speaks.
“The Fire-Bringer is awake and coherent.” Drayke’s voice fills the chamber. “The immediate physical threats have been addressed. Now we discuss what comes next.”
“What comes next is obvious.” Auren steps forward, all cold precision and tactical logic. His golden scales catch the torchlight, ancient and calculating. “We can’t keep her here indefinitely. She’s a liability—a beacon pointing directly to our location. Every moment she remains, Valdris grows closer to finding us.”
“She has nowhere else to go.” Selene’s voice cuts through the clinical assessment. “Her entire life has been stripped away. Family, career, home—all of it gone. We can’t just dump her somewhere and hope for the best.”
“We can relocate her. Establish a safe house. Assign rotating protection?—“
“And what happens when Valdris’s forces track her down?” I hear myself interrupting. Feel everyone’s attention swing toward me. “A safe house won’t hold against what’s coming. Rotating guards means gaps in coverage. The only way to truly protect her is to keep her close.”
“You mean keep her close to you.” Auren’s gaze could freeze fire. “Your objectivity is compromised, Rurik. Has been since we brought her in.”
“My objectivity has nothing to do with it.” The lie tastes bitter. “She’s a Fire-Bringer. The first new awakening since Selene. Her power could be?—“
“Her power is dormant.” Auren cuts me off. “Suppressed by trauma and blood loss. Even if she could access it, she has no training, no control. She’s more likely to burn down the fortress than defend it.”
“Then we train her.”
“With what resources? We’re already stretched thin. The rogues are regrouping, Valdris is stirring, and you want us to divert attention to training a traumatized human who might never?—“
“Enough.” Drayke’s command silences us both. His gaze sweeps the table—Auren rigid with disapproval, me practically vibrating with barely leashed energy, Zyphon lurking in shadows, watching everything with those unsettling violet-cracked depths. “We’re not here to debate whether to protect her. We’re here to decide how.”
“She wants to learn to fight so she can defend herself.” The words come out before I can stop them. “She asked me to train her.”
“Defend herself?” Auren’s voice could freeze fire. “She’s been conscious. The trauma alone?—“
