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He hovered his hand over it and sucked in a breath. “I can feel him here. His remnants,” he spoke, eyeing me over hisshoulder. He turned back and muttered, “I just can’tseeit, or summon it forth—the fire.”
“To ensure his fire was as secure and protected as possible, he would have had to employ a form of blood magic,” I told him. “With you being his grandson, it stands to reason that an offering from you would suffice to access it.”
“A blood link,” he breathed. “Yes, of course.”
He called a single talon forth with a bit of a struggle, because of his weak connection to his draconian nature currently, then dragged it across his palm, letting a few drops fall.
Then the air trembled.
A low hum stirred the chamber walls.
The molten veins brightened, flaring gold-red, then split open.
Flame burst forth — not wild, butcontained, hovering inside a vessel embedded in the stone.
It swirled in suspended motion, no bigger than a heart. Crimson at the core, it was edged with orange, and flickering with veins of dark violet fire.
Malrik’s dragon fire.
V looked back at me and I gave him the nod of encouragement that he was silently asking for, and then he pressed his palm to the stone beneath the vessel.
The blood still seeping from the cut flared with light, matching the fire’s core.
And then it moved, surging downward, breaking from the vessel.
V grunted as it struck at his chest.
His body arched, a guttural roar tearing from his throat as the searing heat ripped through his veins.
I grimaced as it went on for several moments, before he jerked back and staggered, slapping his hand to his chest.
He spun toward me, his golden eyes blazing.
And then he held a palm before his face and let loose a controlled blast of his dragon fire into it.
As he diffused it, his gaze met mine and he grinned.
He’d done it.
His red magical flame emanated all around him then as well, and a euphoric cry escaped him, echoing beautifully off the walls.
“Motherfucker,” he breathed in rapture.
“Feel better?”
“Unbelievably. Now it’s your turn.” He strode toward me with wide steps that covered the distance between us in no time. “It won’t hurt now. I’m returning it to you.” He grasped both my shoulders, steadying me. “Ready, brother?”
Brother.I smiled. “Always.”
He tightened his grip, then his eyes shone brightly, his palms glowing with my own rose-gold power and permeating my clothes and skin alike, breathing back into me in the most glorious way that was not only completely painless, but fucking exhilarating.
I threw my head back and he had to hold me steady as it took me over, the glorious sensation surging to incredible heights as I felt my magic fill me up once more, strengthen me, prepare me, make me whole again.
When it finally came to an end, I was literally vibrating with it, and he had to release me, as my rose-gold power flamed out all around me, lightning crackling too.
I sucked in a soothing breath. “Fuck me,” I breathed. “That’s it… ungh.”
He chuckled with a mixture of mirth at my reaction and relief that I was well again.