Page 29 of Tempest Blazing (The Dragonne Library #3)

Tess

I lay curled around Whiskey on my bed, my cheek pressed deep into his orange fur. His purr rumbled against my chest like a tiny engine, vibrating through my ribs and settling somewhere near my heart. I closed my eyes and just felt it—the weight of him, solid and warm and real.

My fingers found the spot behind his ears that made him lean into my touch, and his purr deepened. One amber eye cracked open to study me with that peculiar cat wisdom, as if he knew exactly how much I needed this moment. How much I needed him .

"You're the best thing that's happened to me in a long time, you know that?" I whispered against his fur. He responded by headbutting my chin, then settling back down with a contented sigh.

"Should I be concerned that you seem more attached to the cat than to me?" Thalon's voice drifted into my head, warm with amusement.

I didn't lift my head from Whiskey's fur. "Obviously I need you both," I murmured. "Different kinds of comfort."

"Ah, so I'm relegated to second place behind a feline," he said, and I could hear the smile in his voice.

The peaceful moment couldn't last forever, though. A familiar knot of anxiety twisted in my stomach as I thought about everything else waiting for me. "I should probably start looking into the Harbingers," I said reluctantly. "Figure out what they're planning, why they wanted me so badly."

"Not yet,"* Thalon's voice turned serious. *"Give it a few more days. Your final guild trial has a strict deadline—focus on passing that first. The Harbingers have waited this long; they can wait a little longer."

I wanted to argue, but he was right. The trial was only days away, and failing it would mean losing everything I'd worked for. "Fine," I conceded. "But after the trial—"

"After the trial, we'll hunt down every last one of them if we have to."

A sharp knock at the door jolted me upright. Whiskey let out an indignant chirp and hopped off the bed with offended dignity, tail flicking as he stalked toward his food bowl. I ran a hand through my messy hair—when had I taken it down?—and padded barefoot to the door.

"Just a sec!" I called, my heart giving a strange little flutter.

The knock had been confident, familiar. Mason?

He'd slipped out early this morning while I was still half-asleep, pressing a soft kiss to my shoulder before disappearing into the dawn.

Heat crept up my neck as memories of the night before flickered through my mind.

I pulled the door open and found him standing there—tall, solid, wonderfully familiar—but he wasn't alone.

A young woman stood beside him, sharing his dark hair and the same strong jawline, though hers was softened by full lips and intelligent brown eyes that studied me with frank curiosity.

She was shorter than Mason by several inches, her black hair pulled back in a practical ponytail, wearing jeans and a fitted t-shirt.

His sister. It had to be.

Mason cleared his throat, and I caught the nervous tension in his shoulders. "This is Kali," he said, voice carefully neutral. "She... wanted to meet you properly."

Kali's gaze flicked over me—taking in my bare feet, my rumpled clothes, probably cataloging every detail for future reference. There was wariness there, but also curiosity. And underneath it all, something that looked almost like hope.

I took a breath, reading the tension coiled in her shoulders, and stepped aside with a welcoming smile. "Then I'm glad you're here. Come in."

I made space for them to enter, instinctively scooping up Whiskey so he didn't get trampled by unfamiliar feet. He settled into my arms with a resigned purr, apparently deciding that being held was an acceptable compromise.

We settled onto the couch, and I felt some of the tension ease as Mason gently nudged Kali forward. Whiskey had claimed the armrest, watching our new guests with regal interest.

"Tess," Mason said quietly, his voice carrying that particular weight it got when he was about to say something important. "You're the only one I've ever trusted like this." His eyes found mine, steady and serious. "Kali wanted to meet you because... you matter."

His voice caught on the last word, and I felt something twist in my chest. The simple honesty of it, the way he said it like it was both a confession and a gift.

I turned to meet Kali's gaze, which had softened slightly. "He matters to me too," I said, meaning every word. "Which means you do, whether you like it or not."

Kali snorted, but she didn't pull away when I shifted closer on the couch. "You're weird," she muttered, but there was less edge to it now.

"Welcome to the club," I replied, and was rewarded with what might have been the ghost of a smile.

"Mason's different around you," she said finally. "Lighter. I haven't seen him like this since..." She trailed off, but her expression had shifted to something warmer. "Thank you."

The simple words hit me harder than any grand declaration could have. I reached out tentatively, and when she didn't pull away, I squeezed her hand. "Thank you for giving me a chance."

"Don't make me regret it," she said, but she was almost smiling now.

Another knock at the door—but this time it burst open before I could reach it. Pippa strode in, looking supremely smug about something, her arms stacked high with pizza boxes and drinks.

"Look who I found loitering near the vending machines," she announced, gesturing dramatically behind her.

"Figured you deserved one normal evening before you dive into the insanity of final trial prep.

We've only got a week, and knowing the Guild.

.." She shook her head, her usual brightness dimming for just a moment.

"Let's just say you'll want this memory to hold onto. "

Kane, Draven, and Raze stepped through the doorway, each holding bags of food and drinks.

My heart lifted at the sight of Raze—we hadn't really talked much since that brutal survival challenge where we'd been partnered together, but seeing his familiar grin made me realize how much I'd missed his easy humor.

"Well, well," Raze drawled, "looks like we've got ourselves a proper slumber party. Should I have brought my pajamas?" He winked at Kali, who actually cracked a smile despite herself.

Draven's gaze lingered on the way Mason's presence filled the space behind me, protective but not possessive, and something predatory flickered behind his smile. "Building an army, love?" he purred, challenge dancing in those mood-ring hazel eyes as they warmed to amber.

Kane's nod was brief, his attention already shifting to scan the room with tactical precision—probably calculating optimal seating arrangements even as we spoke. Some habits never died.

"Or maybe we're building a cult?" Raze said, dropping his bag of snacks with theatrical flair. "I've always wanted to be in a cult. Do we get matching robes?"

Laughter bubbled up from somewhere deep in my chest, bright and genuine, surprising even myself. "Apparently."

What followed was controlled chaos—chairs scraping across linoleum, pillows vanishing from my bed, and the careful choreography of finding space for everyone without stepping on toes or egos.

Whiskey, disturbed from his morning nap, hopped onto the bed and curled into a perfect croissant-shaped loaf, his one eye daring anyone to move him.

I found myself on the floor between Mason's legs, my back against his chest, his warmth seeping through my shirt. When his arms came around me—protective rather than possessive—tension I hadn't realized I was carrying finally began to ease.

Food was dumped unceremoniously on the coffee table—pizza, various snacks that Pippa had apparently raided from the common areas, and enough drinks to supply a small army. People started grabbing slices and drinks without ceremony.

Conversation built in overlapping waves around me. Kali and Pippa fell into an animated argument about pineapple on pizza, with Kali firmly in the "absolutely not" camp and Pippa defending it with the passion of someone personally offended by food prejudice.

Kane made a dry remark about optimal cheese distribution that had Draven choking on his drink with laughter. "Leave it to you to turn dinner into a tactical exercise," Draven said, wiping his eyes.

I watched everyone with a strange ache in my chest—this mix of chaos, comfort, and warmth that felt almost too good to be real.

Mason's hand rested gently on my knee, thumb tracing absent patterns that sent small sparks of awareness through me. My found family was here, messy and magical and real.

Kali shifted closer to me, offering another slice of pizza without saying anything. I took it, murmuring thanks, and our eyes met—just for a second—but it was enough. A silent truce. Maybe even the beginning of trust.

Kane quietly refilled my drink without asking, then joined in a surprisingly nerdy side conversation with Pippa about leyline interference and its effects on portal stability.

I watched him—how relaxed he was here, even if he'd never admit it—and something in my chest eased.

They were all so different, but this worked. Somehow, impossibly, this worked.

"You're weirdly soft now," Kali teased Mason, her voice fond despite the words.

When I nudged him with my foot, he just shrugged. "Not soft. Safe."

As the evening wound down, the plates were empty and the bed was covered in crumbs, something else settled in my chest alongside the warmth. A cold, crystalline certainty that made my spine straighten.

After everything that had happened with the fighting ring, after all the violence and fear and uncertainty—after being so helpless, so weak—I couldn't let that happen again. Not to me. Not to them.

I looked around at these people who'd somehow become mine, and the weight of responsibility pressed down on my shoulders like armor. They'd saved me. Protected me. Fought for me when I couldn't fight for myself.

Never again.

"I need to get stronger," I said suddenly, the words cutting through the gentle chatter. "The final trials are in a week, and I—" My voice caught. "I can't be weak again. I won't."

The room went quiet. Mason's arms tightened around me, but I pulled forward, away from his comfort. I needed to say this.

"Last week, I was completely helpless. You all had to save me, and I—" I swallowed hard. "I never want to feel that powerless again. I need to train harder. Push further. Become everything you already believe me to be."

Draven's expression had shifted, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes. "Love," he said carefully, "what does 'strong' mean to you?"

I blinked, thrown by the question. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," he continued, voice gentle but probing, "are we talking about surviving? Never needing anyone? Or standing up for what matters, even when it's hard?"

Kane leaned forward, his blue-violet eyes intense. "There's a difference between strength and armor, Tess."

Heat flared in my chest—frustration, maybe, or something sharper. "I don't know," I admitted, the words coming out more vulnerable than I'd intended. "I just know I never want to be powerless again. I want to pass these trials. I want to prove I belong here, with all of you."

"You already belong here," Kali said quietly, and the simple certainty in her voice made something crack inside me.

"Do I?" The question came out smaller than I'd meant it to. "Because from where I'm sitting, it looks like I'm the one who keeps needing to be rescued."

Mason's hand found mine, steady and warm. "Needing help doesn't make you weak."

"Doesn't it?" I pulled away, restless energy making it impossible to sit still. "Everyone else here is powerful in their own right. Dragons, fae, incubi, gargoyles, werewolves—and then there's me. The human who gets kidnapped and needs a cavalry."

Raze made a soft sound of disagreement. "Tess—"

"I know you all see something in me. And maybe I'm starting to see it too. But I need to be sure," I said, standing up and pacing to the window. "The trials are coming, and I'm going to pass them. Whatever it takes."