I don’t want to say it. The implications are too vast, too personal, too bound up with the tension that’s been building between us since Caelreth.
My Auric Veil forces me to see truth. It doesn’t let me hide from it, even when the truth is inconvenient.
“Mating.” The word drops between us like a stone. “The texts describe the bonding of a dragon to a mate as the most reliable form of power evolution. The magic restructures both partners, exceeding original parameters. Creating capabilities that didn’t exist before.”
Silence stretches through the frozen chamber. Tyr stands motionless, eyes fixed on mine with an intensity that makes my skin prickle. The prismatic light from the ice casts shifting patterns across his features, highlighting the sharp planes of his face, the tension in his jaw.
I hold my ground. I don’t look away. If I’ve learned anything about dragons—about this dragon—it’s that backing down invites pursuit.
“You’re saying the only way to kill the Arbiter is for me to mate.”
“I’m saying that’s what the ancient texts claim.” I hold his gaze, refusing to look away from the weight of what I’ve discovered. “Whether they’re accurate?—”
“They’re accurate.” His voice is flat, certain. “I’ve heard similar from other sources. Dragons who studied the divine order. Scholars who documented the wars before the gods consolidated power. The mating bond transforms both partners. Amplifies power. Creates new capabilities.”
“Then you knew.”
“I suspected.” He turns away, pacing the perimeter of the reading chamber with the restless energy of caged power. The movement is pure dragon—that prowling stride that covers ground without seeming to hurry, that reflexive tracking of every exit, every threat, every variable in the room.
Including me. I feel his attention tracking me even when his back is turned.
TEN
ZEPHYRA
Istudy his profile as he moves, noting the tension in his shoulders, the rigid control of his stride. He’s fighting an internal battle I can only partially glimpse.
“The Arbiter is hunting us.” I keep my voice level, analytical. “Every encounter escalates. We have two choices. Run until it catches us. Or find a way to fight back.”
“You’re not telling me anything I haven’t calculated.”
He stops pacing, his back to me. “You’re suggesting I mate with you.”
The words land harder than they should. My composure slips for a fraction of a second—a hitch in my breathing, a skip in my pulse—before I wrestle it back under control. The Auric Veil shows me my own reaction in painful clarity: the spike in my magical signature, the involuntary response my body can’t quite hide.
If he turned around right now, he’d see it. Dragons read body language like I read magic.
“I’m presenting the facts.” My voice comes out steadier than I feel. “The decision is yours.”
He turns to face me, and the look in his eyes makes my stomach drop. Not anger. Not resistance. Hunger.
The same hunger I’ve been fighting to ignore since he first pulled me behind him in Caelreth’s frozen streets. Since the ley-roads, when his body blocked the wind without being asked. Since the waystation, when he took wounds meant for me and let me heal him with hands that couldn’t stop trembling.
“The facts.” He moves closer, measured and unhurried. The space between us shrinks by half. “Is that what we’re calling it?”
“What else would you call it?”
“A convenient excuse.” Another step. The distance between us is barely a foot. I see the gold flecks in his eyes, the faint scars that pattern his jaw, the pulse beating visibly in his throat. “A reason to do what we’ve both been wanting since the ley-roads.”
My breath catches. I don’t let it show on my face. “Attraction isn’t?—”
“Don’t.” The word cuts through my protest, sharp as ice. “Don’t pretend you haven’t noticed. Don’t pretend you haven’t been tracking every time I’ve touched you, positioned myself near you, put myself between you and danger.”
“I notice everything. It’s what I do.”
“And what do you see when you look at me?” He tilts his head, studying me with the same intensity I use to read magic. “What does that bloodline sight of yours reveal about my intentions?”
I don’t want to answer. Don’t want to admit what my Auric Veil has been showing me since the waystation.
