“You’re not a doctor.”
“I’m the innkeeper. Same level of authority.”
Delos grumbled but settled back against his pillows. His eyes were already drooping, the conversation having taken more out of him than he’d admitted. Beck moved to adjust his blankets with a tenderness that made something in Cassia’s chest ache.
She gathered her cold tea and her brooding familiar and followed the others out of the room.
THIRTY-FIVE
CASSIA
Night had fallen by the time Cassia made it back to her cottage.
She’d spent the afternoon coordinating with Junie on ward reinforcement plans, her weather-sense tracking the distant accumulation of Nerissa’s weapon in the Pacific. The tsunami was still building—a slow, inexorable gathering of force that set her teeth on edge even from miles away.
Tomorrow, she would practice combining her magic with Aero’s. They would try to figure out how to fight in tandem without leveling buildings. The clock was ticking closer to zero.
Tonight, she just wanted not to think about any of it.
She was halfway through making terrible coffee—a habit Aero had ruthlessly mocked and continued drinking anyway—when a knock sounded at her door.
Her magic recognized him before she opened it. That hum in her blood, that prickle along her nerve endings, that sense ofthere you arethat had nothing to do with sight or sound.
Aero stood on her porch, still wearing the same clothes from the war council. Dark circles bruised the skin beneath his eyes. His hair was disheveled in a way that suggested he’d been running his hands through it repeatedly.
He looked terrible. He looked beautiful. He looked at her like she was the only thing holding him to the earth.
“Come with me.”
No greeting. No explanation. Just those three words, delivered in a voice rough with exhaustion and something else she couldn’t identify.
“Where?”
“I want to show you something.”
She should ask more questions. Should demand details. Should point out that they had a crisis to prepare for, and neither of them had slept properly in days.
Instead, she grabbed her jacket and followed him into the night.
Gust launched himself from his perch with an indignant chirp. You’re just going? Without knowing where?
Yes,she sent back.I trust him.
Her familiar’s skeptical silence was eloquent.
Aero led her down the bluff path toward the beach, his hand finding hers in the darkness. Something warm moved between them—steadier than before, a quiet current rather than a volatile surge. She wondered if practice was finally teaching their magic to coexist for longer than a few seconds.
They reached the sand, and he stopped, turning to face her.
“I haven’t shifted in front of anyone except Delos in longer than I can easily say,” he said. “My dragon form—it’s not something I share. It’s too vulnerable. Too exposed.”
“You don’t have to?—”
“I want to.” His hands framed her face, tilting it up so she met his gaze. “I want you to see all of me. Every part. Even the parts I’ve hidden for centuries.”
He stepped back. Took a breath. And let himself go.
The shift was nothing like she’d imagined.
