Page 13 of Echoes of Fire (Drakarn Mates #2)
TWELVE
ORLA
My mind was a fragmented mess, thoughts colliding like spent debris in orbit, falling and burning before anything meaningful could take shape. I stayed in Rath’s quarters just long enough to dress, my movements sharp and mechanical, as if forcing my body into motion could quiet the storm of my thoughts.
It didn’t.
Last night lingered as if it had physically etched itself into me—every touch, every growled vow and promise, every searing kiss. As thrilling as it had been, as natural as it had felt to succumb to the pull between us, the aftermath now beat with heavy uncertainty.
Fated mates.
Bonding.
His claim that I was his. The very idea bristled against every logical bone in my body. It should have felt ridiculous, laughable even.
How was I supposed to reconcile my concept of love and connection, something I’d always believed to be built slowly, steadily, with the Drakarn belief of an instant, primal bond dictated by pheromones and instincts?
Except it wasn’t ridiculous—not in the way his eyes had burned into mine last night, like I was all that mattered in his world. Not in the way his presence felt stitched into the air I breathed, as if some invisible string tethered us together whether I wanted it or not. Not in the way I’d felt that crushing pull in my chest when I saw him lock eyes with that bastard Krazath in the arena and knew that he’d stepped into that fight for me.
My hands shook as I laced up my boots. I forced myself to pause and focus, fingers gripping tightly to the leather straps.
What the hell was I doing?
Rath was emotionally … consuming, that much was obvious. But what shook me was how much of myself I’d already given over in return. Since crashing on this volcanic hellscape, my life had been a string of survival-based decisions: solve the next problem, fix the next broken thing, keep yourself and the team alive.
Somewhere along the way, Rath had become one of those problems—or perhaps he’d convinced me survival meant hiding myself in him like he was my armor.
But now? After last night—after talk of some crazy mating ritual, laid out so plainly this morning—none of this felt simple anymore. The problem wasn’t just Rath or me or the bond itself—it was all of it, twisting together in this impossible, dizzying knot of biology and circumstance that no Earth training manual could prepare me for.
“Shit.” My knees hurt from kneeling too long, the stone floor unforgiving even through the thin layer of fabric covering my skin. I pressed my palms against my thighs to ground myself, willing my frantic heartbeat to slow.
Rath had given me space. I had no idea when he would return to this room and, frankly, the thought of facing him right now put a lump in my throat—not from fear, but from the unbearable pressure of how much he just … expected from me.
Not demanded, exactly, but Rath’s intensity didn’t leave space for half-measures or hesitation. If I stayed, if I said yes to him in every way that mattered, there would be no turning back.
And I wasn’t sure if I could live up to that.
I needed more space. I needed time to think—somewhere Rath wouldn’t follow. He had to sense my turmoil, I was sure of it, but if I left before he returned, maybe I could buy myself just enough distance to wrestle my thoughts into something coherent.
Outside, the whirr of distant voices and the rush of the river carried on, too ordinary to care about my internal conflict.
How could something so monumental happen, and the world just … keep turning?
The corridors twisted and opened, the spaces feeling labyrinthine and growingly familiar as I navigated them on autopilot. I wasn’t even sure where I was going until the faint sound of rushing water reached me, the humid air thickening as the path sloped downward. My chest ached with too many emotions to name, and instinct guided my steps more than reason.
The baths.
I didn’t know why the thought brought the promise of relief, but it was enough to pull me forward. I needed calm, clarity—anything to cut through the riot in my head and heart.
Not to mention, I was still a bit … sticky.
The baths were one of the few places I’d found since arriving here that still felt … soft. Even with steam hissing from the walls like the breath of unseen leviathans, and algae casting the water in ghostly hues of green and blue, the space was undeniably alive in a way that soothed the edges of my anxiety.
I stripped my clothes in the small changing area and chose a pool in an alcove where prying eyes were unlikely to watch. The warm air clung to my skin as I slipped into the water, the heat enveloping me immediately and drawing a groan from my throat.
It was hotter than I’d expected, almost scalding, but the sting soothed after a moment, replaced by a deep warmth that seeped into my muscles and began to soften the tension I’d been holding onto for so long.
Steam curled in lazy tendrils around me, drifting toward the stalactites above. The algae-infused light kissed the water’s surface, rippling faintly with each exhale I released into the mineral-rich pools. Beneath the surface, the volcanic stone was smooth under my feet.
I closed my eyes and sank lower until the water lapped at my shoulders, letting the heat absorb some of the weight pressing against the walls of my chest. For a moment, just a fleeting moment, I tried to pretend I was anywhere but there. That I was back on Earth, immersed in some sort of secluded hot spring, with no alien trials or fated bonds to unravel and no piercing golden eyes haunting me.
But Volcaryth didn’t let me forget itself. The ever-present trace of fire lingered in the air, a sharp reminder that I was far removed from the world I’d called home.
The idea of home twisted something in me, a deep, confusing ache that I’d been suppressing since the moment we crash-landed. I had thought I’d come to terms with it, that I’d made my peace with the idea that Earth—my colleagues, my family, the life I’d left behind—was gone. But there, in the quiet of the baths, it all bubbled back up.
Maybe that was what terrified me the most about Rath and everything he represented. I wasn’t just fighting against this bond—I was fighting against what it might mean to give up the ghost of the life I used to dream of.
Rath wasn’t part of that dream. This world wasn’t part of that dream.
And yet, somewhere deep within me—far deeper than science could probe—something in me wanted him anyway.
I pressed my palms to my face, the heat from the water clinging to my skin as I inhaled deeply through my nose. The steam burned slightly on its way into my lungs.
I was startled from my spiraling reflection by an unmistakably human voice, sharp and warm as it pierced through the haze of steam.
“Mind if I join you, or are you hiding?” Selene’s voice floated toward me before her figure resolved through the mist, a towel wrapped around her body. Her long black hair was damp, clinging to her skin. She must have just emerged from another pool.
I managed a laugh, though it carried a hollow edge I couldn’t quite disguise. “I’m hiding, but not from you. Maybe cowering.”
Selene grinned, but the look in her dark eyes was searching. Without waiting for more permission, she sank into the water near me with a soft sigh, the ripples from her entry washing over me.
“You’ve got that look,” she said as she settled in, leaning back against the smooth stone edge casually. “The one that says your whole world just got turned upside down. Or exploded.”
Her bluntness sent a derisive snort escaping from me. “Can’t it be both?”
“It absolutely can,” Selene quipped, offering me an easy smile as she swept her fingers through the water. “I’d argue they tend to go hand in hand. Want to share?”
I hesitated, bracing myself. Selene had always been disarming in her no-nonsense approach to everything—from patching up wounds to sassing intimidating alien warriors—but I wasn’t entirely sure even she could make sense of this.
Still, the words began to tumble out before I could stop them. “I feel like I’ve stepped into a story I don’t understand,” I admitted, my voice low and thin against the cavern’s hush. “And somehow I’ve already committed to roles I didn’t ask for.”
Selene tilted her head, her sharp gaze softening just a fraction. “This about Big Red?”
My laugh cracked this time, barely holding together. “When isn’t it about him? And don’t call him that.”
She huffed, sending a ripple of steam-laden breath across the surface of the water. She nudged my leg with her foot under the water, a gentle prod to pull me from my spiraling doubts. “I’m guessing this is less about Rath the warrior and more about Rath the … whatever he is to you?”
I swallowed hard, trying and failing to dislodge the knot in my throat. “He thinks I’m his fated mate,” I said softly, the words tasting almost bitter on my tongue. “And maybe … maybe there’s something chemical or biological there, something real. But it’s all so … fast. So overwhelming. And I’ve barely figured myself out here, let alone what I am to him.”
Selene was quiet for a moment, her gaze sliding toward the faintly glowing pools farther out in the chamber. Her words were gentle but purposeful.
“I won’t pretend to understand it all. Kaiya and I have been trying to wrap our heads around the biology. The pheromone stuff, the bonding rituals, their obsession with biting or whatever weird shit is at play,” she said, a faint smirk tugging at her lips for a brief second before sobering again. “But connection—real connection—is never just biology. It’s built with choices.”
“But what if I didn’t get to make those choices? He claimed me in front of everyone without even asking.”
“To save your life,” she pointed out.
Rudely.
I sank lower into the water, letting the heat slap against my skin as if it could dissolve the tension knotted beneath the surface.
“But now what? What happens if I can’t live up to whatever this bond is supposed to mean to him? What happens if this all blows up in my face?” My voice broke slightly on the tail end of the question, the jagged strength of my doubts cutting through what little calm I could scrape together.
Selene arched a single brow, looking entirely unfazed by the outburst. “What happens if it doesn’t?” she countered, her tone so maddeningly even it was like she knew how that question would twist inside me.
I opened my mouth only for nothing coherent to come out. I wanted to shout back, insist she hadn’t seen Rath, hadn’t felt the intensity he carried everywhere with him, hadn’t been dragged into the gravitational pull of someone so certain of every step he took that it felt impossible to diverge.
But she just waited, her dark eyes pinning me in place the way only she could.
“It’s so much,” I finally managed, the words weak as they left me. It didn’t feel like the truth, at least not the whole of it, but it was the best I could offer. “What if I want time to figure this out first? What if I need time that he can’t give me?”
Selene’s exhale came soft, gentle with understanding. “Then that’s what you tell him. Look, your guy strikes me as this … overwhelming force of nature. But from what I’ve seen, he’d rather burn himself alive than force you into something you truly don’t want. Unless it’s to save your life. In which case, well, we’ve seen how that goes.”
I gave her a flat look. “And what makes you think he’ll understand? Have you seen how Drakarn handle emotions? Intensity is kind of their whole thing.”
Selene shrugged like I’d just asked her something as simple as where she’d stashed the med kits. “They’re intense. But they’re not incapable of listening. Remember, you’re not the only one in this bond thing. If Rath values you—and clearly he does—then make him hear you. Let him understand the space you need. Building something real doesn’t mean submitting to his every whim.”
I let her words sit between us, their weight shifting something delicate inside me. My jaw clenched, the burning pull of doubt still smoldering, but she wasn’t wrong. Rath wasn’t just claiming me in the way the Drakarn did; he was offering something at the core of himself, messy and complicated and raw.
The real question might not have been about Rath and his expectations but about me . What part of me was afraid of saying yes—because saying yes meant staying, meant stripping away every excuse I had to leave behind difficult emotions and impossible bonds I hadn’t planned for.
“You’re thinking,” Selene murmured. “Stop trying to solve him like he’s a damn equation. You can’t science your way through this one, Orla.”
That pulled a snort from me, my lips tugging into the first faint smile I’d felt all morning. “Are you seriously accusing me of being too logical?”
“Damn right I am.” Her grin was irreverent, but her voice softened beneath it. “Listen, science girl, there’s nothing logical about falling for someone—human, Drakarn, whatever. You don’t get to control it, but you do get to decide what you’ll do with it. So yeah, maybe you’re scared. That makes sense—this is wild. But maybe lean into it a little. Give it a chance to prove itself before you shut the door completely.”
A spark of laughter slipped out before I could stop it, the sound catching on the edges of my frayed emotions. “Are you sure you’re qualified to play relationship guru?”
“Touché,” Selene replied, unfazed. “But for what it’s worth, if I had a ridiculously hot, ridiculously devoted alien hanging on my every word, I wouldn’t be sitting here overthinking it. Enjoy the ride. And I do mean that literally. Figure the rest out later.”
The exaggerated waggle of her eyebrows brought a laugh out of me so unexpectedly I almost startled myself with it. I shook my head as warmth unconnected to the water spread through my chest.
“Thanks. Seriously.” I tilted my head back toward the slick volcanic rock, exhaling fully for what felt like the first time in hours.
“No problem.” Selene leaned back in turn, her grin softening. “And hey, if you need me to punch him, you know where to find me.”
“Pretty sure that’d be the shortest fight in history,” I teased, finally letting the tension lose its grip on my chest entirely.
Selene kicked water at me in retaliation, and soon laughter filled the small alcove, turning the soothing peace of the baths into something warmer, something … human.
Exactly what I needed.