Page 170 of Cursed Evermore

That said, I knew he was attracted to her. The only males in my Veythral I knew for certain who weren't were Bastian because he only had eyes for Arielle—whether he wanted to admit it or not—and Sirril, only because woodland sprites didn't tend to mix outside their species.

The look on Elariya's face upon hearing me call her my mage was permanently burned into my mind. Though she shouldn't have been surprised. I'd already told her she was mine. It didn't matter if I wasn't taking full advantage of such a claim, she was still mine.

Those things weren't important now. I needed to figure out what went wrong with the spell and find a way to fix it.

I'd never seen a spell react the way ours had, but it was still the only viable idea I had to track the ring.

I released Elariya’s hand. She gazed up at me, her face filled with determination.

“I'm going with you.” Her voice held a bold edge I hadn't heard before.

“And where am I going?” I stared back at her with raised brows.

“Obviously, the caves.”

I leaned in, breaching her personal space. She flinched but still managed to keep that firm look in her eyes. “You are not to go anywhere near those caves.”

“Why? Something important must be inside there.”

“Yes, my dragons, who will either burn you to ash or rip you apart if you go anywhere near them.” I stepped away from her, getting ready to leave. “Go and work on your magic with Arielle.”

“They were singing earlier,” she said, ignoring my order. “The dragons were singing.”

I froze, and my heart stopped dead, my breath turning to stone in my chest.

“What did you say?” The words rasped out of me like they'd been carved from stone.

“I heard the dragons singing.”

Impossible.I'd never met another being who wasn't a Nightblade who could hear the dragons' song. Let alone a mage.

Dragons sang when they wanted to be heard. There were other Fae and beings who could hear them, but that was rare.

Memories and emotions were woven into the fabric of each song. The songs acted like bridges between the world of the living and the realm of the dead, allowing them to seek counsel from ancient wisdom or find peace with those they'd lost. When dragons sang, they were either storing precious memories or calling them back from the threads of time. The more beautiful or tragic the memory, the more haunting the song.

Dragons also needed to sing to release the intensity of their feelings, or their fire would become unstable and dangerous. The songs purged toxic emotions, keeping their flame pure and controlled. A dragon who stopped singing became a creature of pure rage and destruction.

“What exactly did you hear?” I demanded, moving close to her again.

“It was an enchanting melody. It came straight from the caves. I felt this pull in my soul, and in my heart, I knew I was supposed to go there. Then... it stopped.”

I gazed at her, and for the first time since I was a boy, I didn't feel like the most dangerous thing in the room.

I didn't know what to make of this. That knowing feeling she described was exactly how you knew you were hearing a dragon's song. But she shouldn't have been able to hear them.

This woman had done several things that mystified me since I'd brought her into my life. I'd been able to figure out some explanation that accounted for things like portaling, but this... it was different. It even went beyond that uncertainty of power you often faced with mixed beings like her. Hearing dragons sing didn't resonate from innate power. It was something more.

“Wolfe, please say something.” She stared at me, her eyes pleading.

I didn't know what to tell her that wouldn't either make things worse or freak us both out, so I thought of the best answer for now. “I think you may have been mistaken.”

Her breath hitched and her hazel eyes snapped wide. “No. I don't think so.”

“You must have been. Mages can't hear the dragons' song.”

“I know what I heard. I definitely heard a song from the caves.”

“I'm not disputing that. I'm just telling you it's not what you think.”