Elias flicked my ear enough to sting. “Not all of us have our mates with us,” he grumbled although his mouth tipped up in a smile. “You don’t have to show off.”
My grin was pure arrogance and happiness. The only reason I didn’t tug Finley closer to me was because I respected her need to stand on her own.
With fast strides, Callan made his way to us, his chest dripping while Kassidy tossed him a towel, rolling her eyes when he shook his hair out to wet her. With his towel slung over his shoulder, the siblings guided us toward a table beneath a cloth awning, piled high with roasted fish, fruits, and baskets of warm bread.
Kassidy and another female worked to clear the table of the scattered notes and parchments, evidence they’d been working while I’d lounged and waited.
Around us, the heart of Vistos stretched wide and open.
The square wasn’t truly a square but a sprawling circle of smooth stones carved from the shore to the nearest mountain. Dozens of pavilion-like structures framed the outer edges, with high-arched beams of dark wood supporting sweeping canopies that swayed with every gentle gust of wind. Beneath them were long, communal tables, sturdy enough to withstand dragons landing nearby and worn from generations of shared meals.
Unlit firepits dotted the center, waiting for the evening when flames would rise, and the entire place would glow in gold and amber. I could picture it. Laughter that echoed, music that carried, families piled close.
It was a place built not just to eat, but to gather and celebrate. To belong.
It reminded me of Respandora, where the children of mages long ago gathered once a month at the square with pots of stew brought from every home. Where lanterns were strung between pillars and children weaved between legs.
Two different realms, different people, but the same heartbeat of community.
When we settled in, each of us filling our plates with food, the chatter of the square wrapped around me. Conversations, footsteps, laughter. It was all there as one unbreakable whole. An entire island eating together like a family.
“How is Solana?” I asked, drawing my attention to Kassidy.
“Resting,” she answered, a dark shadow crossing her features. “Her breathing’s a bit easier, but she still hasn’t stirred.”
Beside me, Finley straightened. “Could I see her? I’d like to know if it’s the same magic I sensed in the hatchling.”
Rather than answer, Kassidy tilted her head, her eyes steady. “Why did you run off after the attack the other day?”
I bristled, every muscle in me ready to step in, while Finley’s body grew taut beside mine.
“No one, not your mate, your king, or your friend, would tell me,” Kassidy pressed.
Finley’s attention flicked to Everly. A single nod passed between them, and some of that tension in Finley’s shoulders eased.
It was true, though. Each of us had refused Kassidy’s question. It wasn’t our place to speak on magic we barely understood.
“Even your dragons kept their silence,” Kassidy said. Her voice was stern, but beneath it was something closer to concern and not anger.
“You don’t have to reply to her,”Hoshiko said in my head.
Chin lifting, Finley inched nearer to me.“I should, though. Kassidy has a right to know.”
“Remember what I told you,”I said, through Hoshiko’s mental connection.“You are a dragon.”
Her smile was small, but there.“I am a dragon.”
“Your magic may not be gentle, but it is yours,”Hoshiko said, mirroring my words from the previous night.“You are a warrior forged in fire, yet your soul is gentle. No magic can take that from you.”
Finley pressed her shoulder against mine, where I felt the tiniest tremor leave her body. Our bond hummed with thatrelease. The tension along her back loosened, and with her chin tilted, she looked more like the female I’d always seen—unyielding and unshakable.
“I ran because my magic needed to be released,” she said, her voice steady. “My magic not only lets me see if magic was used in a death but also is death itself.”
Pride swelled in my chest at the way she held herself—my brave dragon. Elias and Everly shifted closer.
“When released, my magic kills anything it touches,” she continued. “Sometimes, I lose control of it, and I need to get away so I won’t harm anyone.”
Kassidy’s expression faltered, her eyes lit with fear. The bond I shared with Finley tightened with the sting of rejection. On the outside, she remained unshaken, but I felt the way she internally shrank, bracing against Kassidy’s growing fear.
