“Ah, Bloom. So much you don’t know…”
“And whose fault is that?” The question slips out more barbed than I intend.
“Yeah… of course. Right. Well—” His grin falters. “This is their natural size.Thisis a dragon. But when they choose, they can expand. Grow.”
Grow.
Sure. Why the hell not. Everything else I thought I knew has already been ripped out from under me—so yeah, miniature dragons. Makes perfect sense.
Shaking my head, I glare at her as Talen’s thumb strokes over the top of her head and the ache hits again. That need to reach for her, to touch. To be closer.
To bond.
My hand lifts before I can stop it.
Ahria puffs—doubling in size in a heartbeat—and snaps for my fingers. I jerk back with a sharp hiss as a burst of fire spits from her jaws, licking across my skin.
“Yeah—maybe don’t try to touch her just yet,” Talen steps back as I suck my finger into my mouth, trying to kill the sting. “She’s small and unbonded, but not harmless. Knows exactly where to bite so you bleed out in seconds. Plus there’s still more Threads packed into her than most could survive.”
“Then how?” I ask as I drop my hand back down, brows pulling in. “How is she… that size if she's so powerful?”
“Their Threads don’t reduce, but we think they can reshape them. Compress them to fit their form.” He gives Ahria a nudge and she lifts from his hand, wings catching the air as she hovers by his side. “Which means, a bonded dragon doesn’t get weaker when they’re small. They're just as dangerous. Still capable of channeling a brutal amount of magic through their rider. And it also means...” Turning his attention to Ahria, his tone sharpens. “they’ll die far too young if theydon’tbond. If they don’t find a way to release it.”
Ahria huffs out a thin wisp of smoke before flying off to a nearby post, claws clicking softly against the wood as her rat-sized frame settles neatly on top.
“But if they can grow...” I say frowning as I watch her and try to make sense of it all. “Why stay small? Why not stay… Big? Fierce.”
“We think it drains them.” Talen folds his arms loosely. “Holding their Threads in that expanded state takes energy. A lot of it. So they can only manage it for short bursts. A few hours. Less if they’re flying or fighting.”
“So this is how Lucien can be bonded without anyone at the Citadel noticing? His dragon’s with him the whole time—just… miniature?”
“Exactly,” he exclaims and out of the corner of my eye, I catch his smile returning. “Inside the Innerland Veils, JC can’t fly or communicate with Lucien. But once a dragon bonds, they need to stay close to their rider to release their Threads… so she doesn’t leave him for long. A few days at most.”
I almost ask why we don’t know any of this. But the answer’s obvious. The Citadel doesn’t want bonding to return, so of course the story they sell is simpler. Dragons are monsters, dragons will kill you.
Fear is always easier to control than truth.
“So is Cal small?” I turn back to face him.
He lets out a short laugh. “No. Let’s just say Cal doesn't like being little. And since he merged with me… I don’t think it’s possible anyway. My Threads can’t compress like his. So he only comes through in his larger form. Which means he can’t stay around long... Much to his frustration.”
My head shakes in disbelief as my fingers curl at my side. God, how much more is there that I don't know? Thathehasn't told me?
Angling away from him, a cool breeze from the lake brushes over me, sending a shiver slipping down my spine. Dropping my gaze, I realise that, aside from the damp wrap clinging to my breasts, I’m bare to my waist. Rubbing at my arms, I try to pull warmth back into my skin.
“Come on,” Talen sighs, gesturing ahead. “This has been enough for one night. Let’s get you properly dry, and then to Ezzy.”
Ahria'stiny green body glides along beside us, effortlessly plucking helpless little moths from the air as we walk back toward the camp in silence.
By the time we reach the tents, the quiet has become unbearable enough that I risk a glance up, only to find Talen already looking at me. We both turn away at once, awkward and guilty, like we've been caught doing something we shouldn't, and I force my attention back to the moonlit path beneath my boots.
When we reach his tent, he waits outside while I get warm and dry. I also quickly grab my pack, which is heavier than normal, and shove in the borrowed clothes he'd left out for me, then together we head off to see Ezzy.
“Here,” he finally murmurs, stopping outside a small tent and holding out his leather flight jacket with a weary smile. “Keep it, you’ll want it for training. I managed to get most of it dry while you were changing. One of the benefits of having Air and Fire Threads.”
Reaching out, I take it and bite the inside of my cheeks to stop myself from smiling back.
“Anyway...” Shifting his weight, he gestures to the canvas shelter beside us. “This is the Healer’s Tent. You’re welcome to stay in my tent. I have to head back to the Citadel now, and I’m hardly ever here... But if you’d be more comfortable elsewhere, I understand.”
