She is burning herself out.
Darial yells something I can’t hear. Ronyn is at her side, bellowing her name.
We could end it in a single exhalation of flame. We could burn her and the magic rather than contain it. But she is our mate and hurting her to fulfill our oath would destroy us all.
Our dragon hearts recoil at the thought.
Then she stops, the magic dying with a whisper. Smoke rises around us as Aura drops to her knees, the childclutched to her chest as though she’s shielding her own heart from the world.
The surviving wolves howl as they flee, unwilling or unable to fight a force they can’t comprehend.
The forest itself seems to shudder.
Hunter, now in human form, leads three men and a woman from the shed. Their faces are bloodied but relieved. “The twins?” the woman asks as she moves forward.
“They’re safe with Caleb,” Hunter says.
Victory is ours.
Yet fear surges within me.
Aura freed her magic from the binds we secured it with.
She used her magic, and now she is at risk from those who would seek to claim her power.
We are sworn to contain magic by any means necessary. Our power has failed to restrain hers. Only one option remains, and it is unthinkable.
Ronyn kneels beside Aura. Darial lands behind me, his claws flexing in the dirt, his dragon jaw tight.
I return to human form and move forward.
“Aura,” I snarl.
She looks up, tears on her cheeks. “She was going to die. I had to—”
“How? We told you the dangers—”
“I had to.”
Darial shifts, his golden scales twisting back into human flesh. “I don’t understand. The magic was bound.”
The woman, likely Scarlet, rushes forward at the sight of the child in Aura’s arms. She sobs, falling to her knees with arms outstretched. Her red hair is matted and her sweater torn. “Ahya. She’s—” Scarlet’s voice trembles.
Aura freezes.
She remains motionless for a moment, focused solely on the child in her arms. Smoke and blood linger in the clearing, but nothing else matters.
Aura’s fingers tremble as she touches Ahya’s curls, memorizing every detail. Tears stream down her cheeks onto the child’s brow.
“I’m here,” she whispers, voice breaking. “I’m here.”
The words seem to undo her.
She presses her forehead gently to Ahya’s, breathing her in like she’s trying to store the sensation forever. Her shoulders shake. Her magic flickers faintly, gold, and protective, wrapping mother and child in a soft, luminous hush.
Scarlet remains kneeling, arms still outstretched, but no longer demanding. Waiting. Afraid to hope.
Aura looks up, her eyes reflecting a blend of love and grief.
