“Fear?”
“You’re scared others will betray you, so you did that pyre to terrify everyone else.”
“It will work.”
“It may not.”
He studied me for a long moment. To my surprise, the dragon-shadow slowly began to settle—not disappearing, but calming.
Folding its wings.
Lowering its head.
"The people outside." I shivered. "The ones watching. The ones you forced to witness. They're loyal to you. They love you. And you traumatized them today. I bet their children saw that, Kenji. Families saw their friends burn. You're about to go to war with your father—you need everyone strong, united, ready to fight. Instead, you've weakened them. Terrified them. Made them afraid ofyouwhen they should be afraid ofhim."
His jaw tightened.
"What you did came from fear." I held his gaze even though part of me wanted to look away. "You're scared that others will betray you, so you wanted to make an example. Show everyone what happens. Make sure no one ever thinks about disloyalty again."
I shook my head. "But these people were already loyal. They didn't need to be punished for someone else's sins. They needed to trust you. And now. . ."
I didn't finish.
The silence stretched between us, heavy and charged.
And then for some reason. . .he placed his hand back on my throat, right over his bite marks.
And I could feel his pulse in his fingertips.
Racing.
Unsteady.
Finally, he exhaled. "You're shaking, Tora."
I was.
Still.
My whole body was trembling despite my firm words, despite my demands. The adrenaline was fading and leaving nothing but exhaustion and horror in its wake.
He pulled me against him.
I let him.
God help me, I let him.
His arms wrapped around me, and I pressed my face into his chest and breathed in the scent of him—not smoke, not burning, just him—and I shook apart in his embrace.
"I've got you." His voice rumbled through his chest and vibrated against my cheek. "I've got you, Tora."
His hand stroked down my back. His lips pressed against my hair. He held me like I was precious, like I was everything, like he hadn't just admitted to burning over a hundred people twenty feet from where we'd made love the night before.
I was still shaking when he tilted my chin up and kissed me. And God help me, it was fire. Not the monstrous blaze outside—not death, destruction, and the smell of burning flesh.
This was the other kind of fire.
The kind of heat that had cocooned me in bed this morning, made me feel safe, made me feel claimed.
