Page 6 of Echoes of Fire (Drakarn Mates #2)

FIVE

ORLA

Rath’s quarters felt cramped, and not because of the walls. The space itself was more than large enough—ample room for his oversized bed platform, his towering racks of weapons, and his peculiar collection of volcanic relics that sat arranged with obsessive neatness. Even the row of silken tunics in his closet space that I hesitated to touch hung spaced precisely apart.

Despite the size, the air seemed to press in on me, heavy and unrelenting.

I didn’t care if the temperature-controlled sheets were some engineering marvel or if Rath thought my scanner and rock samples from my satchel should be displayed like trophies. None of that mattered—not when every surface of the room exuded him .

His heat clung to the walls. His scent—the faint aroma of charred air and metal—saturated the space. His essence lingered like those wings of his, wrapping around me even in his absence.

I could only take so much before I went crazy.

Two days after that … moment in the hidden cavern, and I needed an escape.

Rath had left early in the morning, mumbling something about council meetings and an overdue conversation with Darrokar. For someone so usually direct, his reluctance to step away had been blatant.

His gaze had lingered over me, eyes gleaming with an unshakable intensity that seemed to bypass verbal barriers. He’d stopped masking it. That heat, that quiet certainty—it was everywhere now. And it filled the chamber to the brim, a threat … or a promise.

I pulled one of his tunics tighter around myself, its fabric absurdly light but efficient against the wind in the tunnels. My usual work shirt hadn’t seen the light of day since the temple disaster, shredded into something unwearable. I had other clothes I could wear, but if I was being honest—with myself, at least—I liked the way the tunic faintly carried his scent.

Pathetic, Orla.

I slipped out of the room before my thoughts could spiral deeper. His chambers sat deep enough within Scalvaris that wandering unnoticed wasn’t hard—except for the prickling sense that I was doing something wrong.

Whether it was a paranoid trick of the mind or those zealots lurking just out of sight, I didn’t know. But it didn’t stop me from pressing forward. My boots echoed against the carved stone floor as I threaded through corridors, the veins of heat crystals casting faint orange light along my path.

The carved arteries of the city felt alive, their high-ceilinged passages whispering with the pulse of steam vents and rushing water systems below. Crossing busier intersections felt overwhelming—hissing pipes venting heat, Drakarn warriors sharpening blades, and artisans hauling crates of glimmering crystals. Bits of guttural words reached me in clipped fragments, their consonants rippled with unmistakable curiosity whenever I passed. I kept my head down.

By the time I veered into the quieter halls leading toward the human quarters, I felt brittle. Like one wrong breath would snap me in two.

The enclave for the crew had been carved into an alcove smaller and plainer than any Drakarn living space that I’d seen—not that I’d seen many, but I welcomed the dimmer atmosphere. The air felt cooler here, soothing the perpetual flush lingering on my skin.

I hesitated near the edge of the communal space, listening. Kira was murmuring to someone, possibly baking if she had the supplies, and Eden’s habitual humming—no surprises there. But when I heard Selene’s voice—a calm, familiar low timbre edged with her usual combat-medic steadiness—I knew exactly where I was headed.

Knocking softly at her door, I leaned into the cool stone wall.

“Come in,” she called easily, warmth coating her voice.

Selene’s quarters weren’t much bigger than mine had been, yet she’d managed to make the small space her own. Every piece of equipment—medical or otherwise—sat in perfect order on her table. The faint scent of antiseptic mixed with something floral, maybe herbal tea. She glanced up as I stepped inside, a roll of bandages still in her hands, her braid shifting over one shoulder.

“Big, red, and broody let you sneak away?” she teased, setting the bandages down with a flourish.

I snorted, slumping into one of the stiff-backed chairs she’d tucked against the wall. “Not exactly. He’s in a meeting. I got away before he could do anything about it. Talk about suffocating.” The words tasted wrong on my tongue. Not quite a lie but definitely not the truth. Rath had been accommodating, kind, without pressing for anything I wasn’t ready to give.

Her brows quirked, a wry smile tugging at her lips. “Could’ve fooled me. Kaiya saw you two in the market. She said it was quite the sight.”

I groaned, my hands flying to cover my face. “Please. Just don’t.” My voice was half-laugh, half-groan.

Selene laughed softly, leaning against the table, arms folded. “Sorry, sorry. No teasing. Not right now, at least.” She gave me a sympathetic look. “For real, how is it?”

Before I could answer, a familiar figure filled the doorframe briefly, tray in hand, likely on her way to the communal oven. Kira caught neither my gaze nor Selene’s, murmured something apologetic, and disappeared down the corridor again before I could even finish my frown.

“Is she okay?” I asked. She’d seemed depressed ever since I woke up there. But maybe that was just how she was; it wasn’t like I’d known her before all of this .

Selene’s sigh was deep and slow. “She’s hanging on, but she’s not okay. Her sister was on the other side of the ship before the crash. The uncertainty is worse than grief; it’s a wound she can’t stop picking at.”

My stomach twisted, guilt mixing uncomfortably with weariness. “That’s terrible,” I muttered, staring blankly at the polished surface of the table. It was bad enough knowing I’d never see Earth again, but I’d made that decision when I signed up to leave. Volcaryth wasn’t the intended destination, but I was starting to adjust, at least a little. To lose a sister, though?

Selene’s voice softened again. “We’re all dealing with something,” she said, her careful gaze settling on me. “Which brings us back to you and your Drakarn shadow. I want details. How did this happen?”

I hesitated, fumbling for words that didn’t all sound hysterical. “I … have no freaking clue,” I finally said, picking absently at one loose thread in my borrowed tunic sleeve. “I’m stuck with him—and part of me, god … I think part of me might actually …”

“You’re allowed to like him, Orla.” Her smile was faintly amused but far from cruel. “No one back on Earth is going to chastise you for caring about someone. Even fire-breathing aliens.”

“They don’t breathe fire,” I said, as if that was the important part. “I don’t even know him. And this mating thing? This … supposed mystical, permanent ‘bond’? It feels absurd. We’re from different planets. How can there be something … meant to be?”

She didn’t laugh this time. “Terra’s figured it out with Darrokar.” Her voice held a quiet steadiness, the kind reserved for those who’d already pieced together the advice you weren’t ready to hear. “Might not hurt to ask her.”

“There’s nothing to figure out,” I countered, wrapping my arms around myself. “I didn’t ask for any of this.” The memory clawed its way back—zealots surrounding me, Karyseth’s venomous words, blood slipping down my skin onto that damned altar. A shudder rippled through me, bone deep. I crossed my arms tighter. It wasn’t enough to hold the memories at bay.

Selene’s gaze softened, but she didn’t argue. Her elbows rested on the table as she watched me in that unnervingly steady way medics had. Like she wasn’t just treating wounds but cataloging whatever might linger beneath. When she finally spoke, her words cut straight through my defenses. “And yet, here you are, sitting in his tunic, spilling over with more anger about liking him than the fact he nearly tore a priestess to shreds to keep you safe.”

The floor felt suddenly unstable beneath me. I opened my mouth to deny it, but no words came out.

Damn her and that disarming precision.

“Look … I’m not saying you need to declare your undying devotion after four days. But maybe instead of running from what’s happening as fast as you can, sit with it. Decide what you actually want, not just what’s easiest.”

I leaned back, wary. “You think this is easy?”

“It’s easier than admitting he matters.” She nodded toward the tunic I was fidgeting with, a faint, teasing smile brushing her lips. “He’s right there, on your skin, and you’re fighting him tooth and nail.”

I groaned, pressing both hands to my forehead. “He’s not just overwhelming. He’s … consuming. He looks at me, and …” My voice broke slightly, the heat rising to my cheeks as I remembered how Rath’s eyes blazed when he called me shyrarva —like I was the center of everything his world revolved around. “He’s so sure, like he knew this was inevitable. And I—I don’t get how that feels real.”

She stood quietly, her fingers returning to sort through folded bandages. “If this is going to be your reality, you’ll need to decide sooner or later if Rath is part of your plan. Because from what I’ve seen?” She smirked faintly. “He’s already made his choice.”

Her words hit me harder than I wanted to admit. I slouched deeper into the chair, stubbornly tracing the carved heat veins lining the wall. Despite my hesitation—and outright denial—something kept pulling me toward him, as inevitable as a current in rushing water. But I refused to put that into words. Refused to let her see my hesitation grow roots.

“I should get going. Kira’s probably five loaves deep into baking mode,” I said, forcing a weak laugh as I stood, brushing off the details too big to face directly.

“You mean before Rath realizes you’re gone and goes scorched earth on the city to find you?” Selene quipped smoothly, already stacking supplies back onto her shelves.

Her comment stopped just short of teasing, but it still nudged too close to reality. I waved her off and let myself out, the door clicking softly shut behind me.

The tunnels were quieter now, the soundscape reduced to the occasional hiss of steam vents far above. The market district lights had probably dimmed by now, and I imagined the bustling trade had slowed to murmur and flicker.

But Selene’s questions still churned. What role did I want Rath to have in my life? Did I want Rath in my life? Did any of it even matter? The bond couldn’t be broken. We were stuck on this planet. What choice did I even have?

My thoughts spiraled violently as I walked. Time moved strangely in Scalvaris with the suns blotted out by so much rock, it was difficult to keep track. When I reached the tighter corridors leading to Rath’s quarters, the silence weighed too heavy. Something chafed against my instincts, the kind of subtle wrongness that set alarms I couldn’t ignore.

The corridor felt empty—but not the kind of empty that invited peace. The eerie sort, like the silence of predators just before striking. Heat crystal veins faintly lit the walls, painting jagged shadows across the passage floor, their occasional flickers betraying any movement.

My heart thudded faster. Each step felt heavier. My fingers flexed reflexively at my sides, searching for something to anchor to as the unease crawled across my skin. If someone was following me, I didn’t want to confirm it by turning.

Then, just ahead, the shadows wavered unnaturally before solidifying into a hulking figure.

Drakarn.

I stopped breathing for half a heartbeat. Dark scales glistened against the crystal’s dim light, their edges marked with dark red burns that’d fused them jagged near the warrior’s left jawline. His wings hung poised, their membranes catching barely enough light to seem like a predator fanning them before striking. All menace. His slitted eyes warmed with barely contained hostility as his snout lifted to fix me under his unwavering scrutiny.

I knew him. One of Karyseth’s zealots—Krazath. Those burns hadn’t been there the last time I’d seen him.

The hate in his eyes? It had only grown stronger.

This was so not good.