“I could have?—“
“Could have died.” She shoves me behind a stone barrier, pressing me flat against the wall. “Fire-Bringers protect each other. That’s how this works. You saved Selene; I saved you. The debt balances.”
She says it like it’s simple. Like the rules of sisterhood are as clear and immutable as gravity.
Maybe they are.
The attack ends as suddenlyas it began.
The rifts close. The remaining shadow dragons dissolve into smoke and memory. The sky clears, morning light finally breaking through to illuminate a courtyard scarred by battle.
We won. If you can call it winning—several dragons wounded, the fortress damaged, the sense of safety we’d built shattered completely.
Lakhu made his point. He can reach us. He can hurt us. And next time, he won’t be testing defenses. He’ll be coming to claim what he believes is his.
Me.
The thought should terrify me. It does terrify me. But underneath the fear, something else has taken root. Something that feels dangerously close to belonging.
I fought for them today. Bled for them. Protected them.
And they did the same for me.
The infirmary ischaos in the aftermath.
Wounded dragons fill every bed. Aisling has transformed into someone I barely recognize—calm, efficient, snapping orders at assistants who jump to obey. Her medical training takes over completely, the warrior vanishing beneath the healer.
I watch her work for a moment, fascinated despite myself. Her hands are steady as she stitches a gash on a young dragon’s shoulder, her voice low and soothing as she talks him through the pain. This is a woman who was throwing fire at shadow dragons an hour ago. Now she’s saving lives with the same focused intensity.
“She’s something, isn’t she?”
Selene appears at my side, her own wounds hastily bandaged. There’s soot on her face and exhaustion in her eyes, but she’s smiling.
“Where did she learn all that?”
“She was a veterinary surgeon. Before.” Selene steers me toward a corner where supplies are laid out. “Apparently dragon physiology isn’t that different from large animals. Who knew?”
We settle into the corner, tending to each other’s wounds while Aisling handles the serious cases. The cut on my shoulder is deep but not dangerous; Selene has burns on her forearms from a barrier that overheated.
“Hold still.” Selene applies salve with practiced hands. “This is going to sting.”
It does. I hiss but don’t pull away.
“Thanks,” she says quietly. “For earlier. I didn’t see it coming.”
“Neither did I, really. Just... reacted.”
“That’s usually how it works.” She finishes with the salve and reaches for bandages. “The training, the practice—it’s all so that the reaction is the right one. Yours was.”
I don’t know what to say. Compliments still catch me off guard—I’m not used to them. Not used to being valued for anything beyond the power in my blood.
“You fight well,” Selene continues, wrapping the bandage around my shoulder with careful precision. “Better than well. The way your shadow-flame cuts through their darkness—I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“I don’t understand it myself.”
“Join the club.” She ties off the bandage and sits back, examining her work with a critical eye. “Fire-Bringer powers don’t come with instruction manuals. We figure it out as we go, make mistakes, set things on fire that probably shouldn’t be on fire.”
“Speaking from experience?”
