Page 27 of Scorched by Fate (Drakarn Mates #3)

TWENTY-SEVEN

SELENE

I made my way through rows of stone beds I knew by heart now, each step a reminder of how hard we’d fought to keep the Drakarn here alive. I heard few raspy breaths and more gentle sighs, and my own pulse eased in response. My fingers automatically brushed table edges to check supplies. But something was different this morning. I felt lighter, steadier.

I could see progress.

The Drakarn who’d been near death two days ago were no longer caught in that frantic half-consciousness. Their scales still lacked their full luster, but there was a definite shimmer there—life returning to their bodies. It was enough to flood my chest with cautious hope.

Mysha was sitting, her back propped up by pillows and her hands cupping a steaming mug. She glared at me as I approached, and I couldn't stop the smile that spread across my face. If she was feeling well enough to glare, she might actually pull through.

"What mess have you made of my healing caverns, human?" Mysha demanded, setting her mug on her bedside table.

"I think that's a question I should be asking you." I sat at the end of her bed, careful to avoid her legs and tail. "We used vyrathis to aid in healing, but I have no idea why you or the other healers got sick. The illness only affected the healers, as best we can tell." I paused for a moment, but she would want to know. "Three died."

Mysha sneered and hissed. "Damnation. How long have I been ill?"

"About two weeks."

She thought for several moments, reaching for her mug and sipping again before setting it back down. "Healer's Fatigue."

"What?" My fingers itched for a notebook, but I wasn't going to leave when Mysha was giving me answers.

"It's an old illness, and rare. I haven't seen it in my lifetime, but my mentor told me about a spell of it that nearly wiped out Scalvaris a century ago. Remnants of illness lurk in all of us, and in healers, it can mount until it reaches a saturation point and transform into something deadly. It first spreads through the healers, then to anyone who helps, then the rest of the city. Vyrathis is the only known treatment. It gives our bodies a chance to fight the illness. I must have told you before I succumbed." She nodded, satisfied with her deduction.

It wasn't exactly right, but close enough that I saw no reason to contradict her. "Will you tell Rachel and Kaiya about this? If you're up for it?"

She tried to swing her legs off the bed. "I'll be up and tending to the sick. They can find me after."

I placed my hand on her leg. "Maybe tomorrow, elder. Your body needs a bit more healing."

She hissed again, but didn't try to stand. She must have been truly fatigued. I left her to her rest.

I spent the next several minutes making check after check. Supplies? Holding out. Pulses? Steady. Fevers? Seemed to be back under control.

I spotted a large silhouette hovering near the beds in the back. Khorlar. His imposing figure blended into the rock—broad shoulders, dark gray scales, wings folded so tightly against his back he almost vanished into the cavern wall. He might have gone unnoticed if I didn’t catch the glint of light reflecting off his scales.

He didn’t look to me as I approached. Still, I knew he was aware of me; I'd seen his battle instincts firsthand. His wings stayed clamped to his spine, and he stared at a point on the wall like he was trying to memorize every chiseled contour.

“Khorlar?” I kept my voice quiet, not wanting to disturb anyone else who might be sleeping.

He finally glanced my way. His eyes narrowed slightly in acknowledgement. He was silent for an uncomfortable stretch before he answered, “Checking.”

I tilted my head. “Things are improving,” I said, my tone gentler than I’d expected. “Thank you. We wouldn't have made it back if not for your help.” I didn't want to imagine what the Ingarath would have done to us. They hadn't gotten the chance.

He didn’t nod, just flicked his tail once against the stone. “I honor my duty,” he said. It was so formal, carefully worded. I wondered what he was really doing there. But I doubted he’d welcome more questions.

After a moment, he turned on his heel and prowled to the passageway. He didn’t look back.

I didn't have time to waste on mysterious Drakarn.

Reika was right where I'd left her—still frail but getting stronger. Her hollow cheeks and bruises looked less brutal this morning, and her breathing was relaxed, if shallow. She appeared to be healing in slow, steady increments. I knelt beside her, studying the lines of tension that still marred her brow. Even in rest, Reika seemed poised on an invisible edge.

“You’re safe here,” I whispered. I wasn’t sure if I said it for her benefit or mine, but it felt like a necessary vow.

When her fingers twitched against the sheet, my heart gave a tiny leap. I didn't know if there were more humans out there, more Reikas who needed saving. If there were, we would find them. We had to.

I pushed to my feet, rubbing my sweaty palms on my thighs. “Rest easy,” I mumbled.

A shuffle near the entrance made me turn. My stiff shoulders loosened when I spotted Vyne, and my cheeks strained with a smile. This thing between us had me looking like a fool.

I didn't care.

“Long shift?” he asked. His voice, that low rumble, always made me feel safer.

“You could say that.” My body ached. “But there’s progress. Mysha woke up for a bit and was able to explain what happened.”

He glanced at the cots the same way I had, that fierce intelligence of his taking in details. “Good. They need you.”

Heat prickled across my face, and I was thankful for the murky lighting that might hide how flustered I felt. “I’m just doing what I can.” Then, I gestured toward the exit. “I think I’ve earned a break. Walk me home?”

Vyne offered a smile, the kind that made my heart stutter. He closed the distance, holding out his large, claw-tipped hand. I didn't hesitate, sliding my smaller one into his, and everything inside me clicked into place.

We left, the air outside the cavern cooler, though the city itself never truly cooled. We walked in silence for a while, letting the labyrinthine corridors of Scalvaris swallow us.

“Vega wants to go searching for more humans. She isn’t wrong—it’s important. I'm guessing the council isn't going to like that." They hadn't when Vega escaped the city to come rescue me and the civilians I was hiding with in a cave not far from our initial crash site. I had no idea how that might have turned out if Terra wasn't snuggled up with their leader.

Being snuggled up to a Drakarn of my own, now I saw the appeal.

His fingers tightened around mine. “They won’t,” he said. “The Ignarath will demand retribution for the scouts we killed. Sending a human like Vega out anywhere near their territory could court war if she manages to survive."

I cursed. "I don't know if anything can stop Vega, short of throwing her into a cell. And even that didn't work for long."

He released my hand and turned, his broad shoulders blocking some of the corridor’s pale glow. "That is not a problem for today, Zhyvarin ."

I might have argued, but I was tired from my shift and right next to my mate. I didn't want to waste time worrying about Vega and her future.

We walked again and made it to Vyne's— our —room. The heavy door slid shut with a stony thump, locking out the noise of the city.

Vyne let go of my hand to undo the leather straps across his chest, removing one layer of armor. His wings came free, then settled behind him. I stared a fraction too long, every inch of him reminding me just how good he looked, and how much he was mine.

“Sit,” he ordered gently, gesturing to a cushioned ledge along the wall. I did as asked, too tired to protest. My legs throbbed in relief when I sank into the seat.

He knelt in front of me, massive and graceful. The heat of his scales radiated through my clothes. “You’re pushing yourself hard,” he said, blunt as ever, though his tone was oddly gentle. One clawed hand lifted, brushing hair away from my face. “You do so much, Selene. For them. For us. Don’t lose yourself.”

I tried to reply, but I didn’t manage more than a shaky exhale. The exhaustion I’d been pushing aside the entire day suddenly crashed down, and I realized I was trembling. Vyne’s hands came up to frame my face, holding me steady in a way that seemed to say, I’ve got you.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he murmured, pressing his brow to mine. His breath, hot and steady, ghosted over my lips, and his wings flared forward to cocoon us. It was so private, so comforting, that something in my chest cracked open.

When I found my voice, it wobbled. “Thank you,” I managed. It felt woefully inadequate, but it was all I had.

Vyne’s thumbs rubbed small circles along my jaw. Then he tugged me toward him, arms wrapping around my waist. I fell into his chest, catching the deep, resonant thump of his heart, the scales shifting across his broad shoulders. Every inch of me seemed to unravel in that slow, careful warmth.

“You’re mine, Zhyvarin ,” he whispered. “No matter what wars or storms come.”

My heart lurched. I pulled back just enough to see his face, sliding my fingers over the rise of scales on his shoulder. He shivered beneath my touch, eyes slipping half-closed as he leaned into my hand. The trust in his expression nearly undid me.

He guided his mouth to mine, sealing the moment in a slow, tender kiss. No urgency this time, no desperate clash. Just a soft, lingering exchange that tasted of devotion and everything we would build.

I wrapped my arms around him and surrendered.