“Fire—”
“What about the stallion?” I interrupt, glancing behind me.
He follows my gaze. The horse trembles, sides heaving, eyes still wild.
“I’ll have someone attend to him,” Keiren says, stepping toward me.
“No.” I shake my head, turning back to the stallion. “I’m not leaving him.”
“You can barely stand.”
“I can.” I straighten despite the ache. “Please. Let me try.”
He studies me—anger, concern, and something deeper warring behind his eyes.
Then he nods.
I turn toward the stallion, lowering my voice, my movements slow and deliberate. I murmur nonsense sounds meant to soothe him, letting the magnificent creature see my hands, my breath.
His chest heaves, every muscle taut, eyes rimmed with white.
“Facilis,” I whisper. “Easy.”
He snorts, tossing his head—but he doesn’t bolt.
Step by step, I approach. “Easy now. I’m not here to hurt you.”
Closer. Closer…
When I reach him, I rest a hand against his neck. Slick with sweat, it quivers beneath my touch.
“You’re alright,” I murmur. “You’re safe now.”
I walk a slow, careful circle. The stallion follows.
We circle the paddock again and again, until he mirrors me—stopping when I stop, turning when I turn, nosing my shoulder with cautious curiosity.
I tap the back of his knee. “Arcus,” I whisper. “Bow.”
To my astonishment, he lowers his head and folds into a kneel.
I grin.
Grabbing his mane, I swing onto his bare back. He surges to his feet and launches into a sprint, galloping the perimeter of the pen in smooth, powerful circles.
Wind in my hair. Fire in my blood. The world narrows to this moment—this beast, this bond.
When I dismount, breathless and flushed, I look to where Keiren stood—
But he’s gone.
A roar cracks the sky.
The stallion spooks, jerking back, but I hold him steady, fingers tangled in his mane.
Above us, the dragon soars—wings slicing the air, tail streaming like a comet—as it vanishes beyond the mountains.
I know something is different the moment I walk into breakfast.
