Page 25 of Fire’s Resonance (Hearts on Fire #1)

Bramwell takes his cue to leave, gathering his books with a quick nod to us both.

At the door, he pauses. “For what it’s worth, Spark, the texts say the Guardian Bond only forms between souls that are already aligned—compatible in the deepest sense.

It doesn’t create feelings. It amplifies what’s already there. ”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that before.”

After he’s gone, I dress quickly, avoiding Raak’s gaze. “Let’s go,” I say, heading for the door. “Before I change my mind.”

The corridors of Emberhold are quieter now, most dragons having retired to their quarters for the evening. Those we pass give us a wide berth, some with open curiosity, others with barely disguised hostility.

A female with platinum blonde hair cuts in front of us, her pale blue eyes assessing me coldly. “The human is walking freely now? How... progressive.” Her gaze shifts to Raak. “I see your defective flame has found its match, Silverclaw. Weakness seeks weakness.”

Raak’s response is a rumbling growl that makes the stones beneath our feet vibrate. His arm moves in front of me, positioning his body between me and the female. The protective gesture makes my dragon purr with approval.

Yes. Protect. Defend. Our male.

“Sarla.” His voice carries lethal warning.

“Integration protocols exist for a reason,” she says, ignoring his tone. “When this experiment fails, I’ll be waiting with my needles.”

She brushes past us, the threat hanging in the air.

“I’ve seen her before. Who is she?” I ask when she’s out of earshot.

“Sarla Tasher. Head of integration.” His jaw tightens. “She mindwipes humans who discover our existence.”

“Oh, right. How could I forget?” I shiver despite the heat radiating from my skin.

We continue deeper into the mountain, down winding passages that grow increasingly warm and humid. The walls here glitter with embedded crystals that catch the light from his gray flames, throwing rainbow reflections across our path.

Walking behind him, I can’t help admiring the way his tactical pants hug his ass, the way his muscles shift beneath his skin with each movement. My palms tingle with the memory of touching his bare chest, of feeling those hard planes beneath my fingers.

“Here,” he says finally, pushing open an ornate door made of some dark metal I can’t identify.

Beyond lies paradise.

A massive cavern opens before us, filled with steaming pools of varying sizes. Crystals embedded in the ceiling emit a soft, golden light that reflects off the water’s surface. The air is thick with mineral-rich steam, carrying a scent that reminds me of thunderstorms and hot metal.

“The healing springs,” Raak explains, his voice echoing slightly in the vast space. “Sacred to our kind. The minerals help stabilize dragon fire.”

I approach the nearest pool, dipping my fingers into the water. It’s hot—far hotter than any human could tolerate—but to my altered physiology, it feels perfect.

“Will we be alone?” I ask, already unfastening my pants, desperate to immerse myself in the soothing water.

His eyes track the movement of my hands, pupils dilating until only a thin ring of silver remains. “Yes. No one comes here after sunset except for healing ceremonies.”

“Good.”

I strip without further hesitation, too desperate for relief to care about modesty. The bond has progressed too far for physical embarrassment to matter. Besides, after what we just shared in his quarters, seeing me naked seems like a minor escalation.

I feel his eyes on me as I remove each piece of clothing, his gaze a physical caress against my skin. When I stand naked before him, I resist the urge to cover myself. Instead, I meet his gaze directly, chin raised in challenge.

His eyes roam over me with undisguised hunger—from my copper hair tumbling around my shoulders, to my full breasts with their hardened peaks, down the curve of my waist to the patch of darker red curls between my thighs.

A growl rumbles from his chest, his claws extending slightly before he forces them back.

I slide into the nearest pool with a grateful sigh, the mineral-rich water instantly easing the burning beneath my skin. My muscles relax for the first time in days, the constant tension finally releasing.

This is better. But not enough. Need him. Need him closer. Need him inside.

When I open my eyes, Raak is still standing at the edge, watching me with an intensity that should be uncomfortable but somehow isn’t. His gaze feels like a physical caress, trailing heat wherever it lands.

“Are you just going to stand there?” I ask, sinking deeper until the water reaches my collarbones.

Without breaking eye contact, he strips efficiently, revealing his powerful body inch by inch.

Silver-gray scales cover more of him than I realized—patterning his shoulders, spine, and trailing down his powerful thighs.

His cock is already half-hard, impressive even in its semi-aroused state.

I can’t look away, imagining what it would feel like inside me, stretching me, filling the emptiness that aches between my thighs.

Mine. All mine. Take what’s ours.

He slides into the pool opposite me, keeping a respectful distance. The water barely reaches his waist, forcing me to choose between staring at his chest or his face. I opt for the latter, though it’s not much safer. His silver eyes glow in the dim light, watching me with predatory focus.

“The scales look good on you,” he says after a long silence.

I glance down at my forearms, where opal patterns have emerged more visibly in the heated water. They shimmer with iridescent colors, catching the light like the finest opals I’ve ever worked with.

“They’re beautiful,” I admit grudgingly. “Even if I didn’t ask for them.”

“Some gifts aren’t asked for.” His voice is softer than I’ve heard before. “Doesn’t make them less valuable.”

The steam rises between us, carrying his scent—cedar, smoke, male—directly to my enhanced senses. My core clenches in response, the bond singing between us despite the distance. My nipples tighten beneath the water, the buoyancy making them even more sensitive.

Go to him. Let him touch us. Let him take us.

“Can I ask you something?” I say, desperate to focus on anything besides the persistent throb between my thighs.

He nods once, expression guarded but not closed.

“What happened during The Sundering? Everyone mentions it, but no one explains it.”

Pain flashes across his features briefly before he masks it.

“It was a magical experiment gone wrong. Elder Varen—Blaze’s father—attempted to enhance the clan’s connection to the Ancestral Flame.

” His jaw tightens. “Something interfered. The backlash killed many, including Blaze’s mother.

Our magic has been declining ever since. ”

“And you think these bonds will fix it?”

“They’re our last hope.” He moves slightly closer, the water rippling between us.

My body leans toward him unconsciously, drawn to his heat like a moth to flame.

“The Ancestral Flame Protocol was designed as an emergency measure—a way to restore our connection to original dragon magic if it was ever severed.”

“Why human-dragon pairs?” I press. “Why not just dragon-dragon?”

“I’m not sure. But there’s been whispers about pure dragon magic becoming too unstable,” he explains, watching me carefully. “Human adaptability balances it, creates a new kind of energy that’s more... flexible.”

“And the full moon tomorrow...”

“Will trigger your first big change,” he confirms. “The dormant dragon genetics in your blood will fully activate.”

Fear grips me at the thought—not just anxiety or nerves, but primal terror. What if I lose myself completely? What if Spark Dekker—the woman who built a life from nothing, who created art from fire and sand, who never needed anyone or anything but her own skills—disappears into this new creature?

“Will I still be me?” The question slips out before I can stop it, revealing more vulnerability than I intended. “Will I grow wings and a tail?”

His expression softens fractionally. “No wings or tail yet, but you’ll be more yourself than you’ve ever felt, little flame. The parts of you that never made sense—your affinity for fire, your unusual resilience, your connection to flame patterns—they’ll finally have context.”

“And us?” I gesture between us, unable to name what’s happening directly. “This... bond. What happens after?”

“We complete the Guardian Bond,” he says simply. “We protect each other. We protect the clan. We wait for the other three pairs.”

“Just like that? Instant partners for life?”

His jaw tightens. “Dragon bonds are permanent, Spark. There’s no dissolving them, no walking away once completed. That’s why the choice matters.”

“What choice?” I laugh bitterly. “My body’s already decided for me.”

“Your dragon has decided,” he corrects. “But your human half still has to accept it. That’s the balance of the bond—dragon instinct tempered by human will.”

I absorb this, mulling over the implications as steam rises around us. The water has allowed my body to relax, the bond-symptoms receding to a manageable level for the first time in days.

“And what about you?” I ask finally. “Do you want this bond? Or are you just following dragon instinct too?”

He’s silent for a long moment, his silver eyes assessing me with unnerving intensity.

“My whole life, I’ve been the Ashen One,” he says finally.

“Defective. Lesser. My gray flame marking me as different, weaker.” He lifts a hand from the water, gray flames dancing across his palm, flickering with hints of crimson where they never had before.

“Until you. Until your art showed me my flame had purpose. Until your touch made my fire burn true for the first time.”

He moves closer, the water rippling between us as he stops just short of touching me.

“I want this bond, Spark Dekker. Not because my dragon demands it, but because for the first time in my life, I feel complete when you’re near.”