Because of her.
My jaw tightens, heat and frost grinding together beneath my skin. “I already know why you cursed me,” I say, voice low, dangerous. “You thought I’d burn the world down if you didn’t.”
“Yes,” she agrees calmly. “But you misunderstood what I was watching for.” Her eyes flick toward the empty crystal dome, then back to me. “The fire was never the problem. Your inability to choose something beyond it was.”
The words sink in slow and sharp.
Not punishment.
Not redemption.
A test.
Rage stirs, but it’s different now, edged with something colder than fury. “So, she was a measure,” I say quietly. “A way for you to see whether I’d destroy the one thing that could ground me.”
The witch inclines her head slightly, neither confirming nor denying, which feels worse than either. “She was meant to witness whether a dragon could learn restraint without losing himself.” Her voice softens by a fraction. “I did not anticipate that you would anchor each other instead.”
Pieces begin sliding into place with brutal clarity.
The way my fire calmed when she touched me.
The way the dome reacted to her presence.
The way my dragon stopped raging and started…
…listening.
Not a revelation about the curse.
A revelation about us.
The witch studies me for a long moment, ancient power recognizing ancient power. Then her gaze shifts, sweeping across my assembled brothers with the kind of assessment that sees past flesh to the supernatural cores beneath.
“Love cannot be controlled,” she agrees at last, voice quiet but threaded with something heavier than concession. “But it can be…observed.”
My teeth grind together. “You already had your observation,” I say, frost creeping along my knuckles. “The curse broke. The balance held. What else do you fucking want?”
Her eyes return to mine, and this time there’s no softness left in them—only calculation.
“I was not waiting to see if you would fall in love,” she says. “I was waiting to see what you would do when love became a weakness someone else could exploit.”
The words land like a blade sliding between ribs.
Scar goes perfectly still beside me.
“The Seelie Prince did not take my daughter by accident,” the witch continues, voice level. “He felt the shift in you when the curse fractured. Felt the balance settle. You changed the shape of power in this region the moment you learned restraint.” Her head tilts slightly. “And predators notice when a monster chooses attachment.”
My dragon snarls under my skin, wings twitching with suppressed violence.
“Youknewthis would happen,” I accuse, low and lethal.
“I knew it was inevitable the moment she began to fall,” the witch corrects. “This would always be the final measure if she was a part of your world.” Her gaze sharpens. “Not whether you could control your fire. Whether you could hold onto thatcontrol when someone threatened the one thing capable of unmaking you.”
Silence swallows the room.
The brothers shift subtly behind me, the weight of her words settling into bone.
Scar exhales slowly, something dark flickering behind his eyes. “So this isn’t a lecture,” he murmurs. “It’s a warning.”
