“Because,” I say quietly, rising to look her in the eye, “you're our fated mate.”
In the silence that follows, I let the truth stand bare between us. I watch her face carefully as shock hollows her features and denial rushes in to seal the cracks. Then, beneath it all, something far more fragile rises to the surface.
Grief.
It’s different from the sharp grief of loss but rather the kind that comes when the shape of your future shifts without your consent.
“No,” she whispers. “That’s not—no.”
“We will protect you,” I continue. “We will burn the world before we allow you to be harmed again.”
Her head shakes once, then again, harder. “You don’t get to decide that. You don’t get to walk in here and rewrite my life with a word.”
“We aren’t rewriting it,” I say softly. “We are part of it.”
“I didn’t ask for this.” Her voice fractures. “I didn’t ask for dragons. Or fate. Or a goddess tying me to anything. I didn’t ask for any of the other shit that has happened in my life.”
Her hand presses to her chest like she’s steadying her own heartbeat.
“I finally learned how to survive on my own,” she continues, eyes bright and furious. “And now you’re telling me I’m back to square one, with no autonomy and no independence? No choice or freedom?”
“That isn’t what I’m saying.”
“Then what are you saying?” she demands.
“That you were never meant to be alone.”
Her breath stutters. Alone has been her armor. Her refuge. Her proof of strength.
“You don’t know what it has cost me,” she says, voice low now. “To need no one. To rely on no one. To trust no one.”
“I do,” I answer.
She studies me like she wants to disprove every word I say.
“We will protect you,” I continue, quieter now.
She looks at me like I’ve stolen from her the one thing she fought hardest to claim: control.
And I’ve yet to tell her that we came looking for her to suppress her magic for good.
10
AURA
Dragons.
I wouldn’t have believed it if the big one hadn’t shown me. I stare at the shimmer of dark scales still tracing his forearms, and the heat rolling off him that seems to disturb the cool cave air around him, and my mind rebels. Bears and wolves were already more than I could comprehend. Dragons don’t belong in my world. They’re stories from creepy books I used to hide in my closet.
“You’re lying,” I say, though my speech lacks conviction.
“No,” he replies simply.
I shake my head, backing away until my shoulders hit the stone wall behind me. “This—this is some kind of trick. Another test. I don’t belong to anyone.” The words tear out of me sharp and frantic. “I won’t. I can’t.”
The thought of being claimed again makes my skin crawl. It’s teeth at your throat and hands on your wrists, and someone else deciding what your body is worth. I knowexactly where that path leads, and I won’t walk it again.
My magic stirs weakly below my skin, a reflexive reverberation of my panic.
