Page 8 of Tempest Blazing (The Dragonne Library #3)

Tess

My muscles ached and my brain felt foggy from exhaustion—today's classes had been especially intense after the announcement. But Mason and I had agreed we couldn't afford to wait—we needed to start researching the Matrix immediately. A couple hours before dinner would have to do.

The Library seemed to sense my purpose the moment I stepped inside, guiding me through shifting corridors with gentle nudges of warm air. I followed the subtle cues—a brightening sconce here, a softly creaking door there—until I found myself before a room I'd never seen before.

"In here," came Mason's familiar voice, tinged with amusement.

I stepped through the doorway and couldn't help but smile. He was already seated at a circular table surrounded by towering stacks of books. The sight of him still sent a little thrill through me—my mate, brilliant and determined.

"The Library's playing matchmaker again," I said, gesturing to the cozy space.

Mason's grin was pure mischief as he stood and crossed to me. "Can't say I mind." His hands found my waist, pulling me close for a quick kiss. "Though I suspect it's more about giving us privacy for potentially dangerous research than romance."

"Why not both?" I laughed, feeling some of the day's tension ease from my shoulders.

He chuckled, then gallantly pulled out the chair beside his. "Your research station awaits, my lady." As I settled into the seat, his hands found my shoulders, strong fingers working at the knots of stress there with practiced ease.

"Mmm," I sighed, melting under his touch. "If you keep that up, we'll never get any work done."

"Just a minute," he murmured, his thumbs finding a particularly stubborn knot. "Can't have my brilliant mate too tense to think clearly."

After another blissful moment, he pressed a kiss to the top of my head and took his own seat, immediately diving back into his research.

The Library settled into comfortable silence around us, broken only by the whisper of turning pages and the occasional scratch of Mason's pen as he took notes.

Hours passed in focused concentration, both of us lost in our respective texts as dust motes danced in the magical light filtering through the windows.

"Another dead end," Mason muttered, slamming another leather-bound tome shut. The sound echoed off the stone walls, sharp and frustrated.

I glanced up from my own book—a collection of theoretical magical applications that made my head spin. "What did that one say?"

"Same thing as the last three. The Concordance Matrix requires a power source of 'divine magnitude' to function properly." He rubbed his temples, leaving smudges of dust from the ancient pages. "But no specifics. No names. Just vague references to 'primordial energies' and 'creation-level magic.'"

My fingers dug into the edges of my book.

We'd been at this for hours, cross-referencing everything we could find about the Matrix, and the picture emerging made me sick.

The spell wasn't just designed to sever bonds—it was designed to destroy them so completely that they could never be reformed.

A magical lobotomy. The thought of our connection being severed, of Thalon's warmth and strength ripped away from me, sent ice down my spine.

"Here," I said, sliding another book across the table. "This one mentions power sources specifically. Maybe—"

I stopped. My eyes caught on a passage I'd somehow missed before. The words seemed to shimmer on the page, drawing my attention like a magnet.

The Matrix, when properly constructed and powered, requires energies equivalent to those used in the First Creation. Only artifacts of divine origin possess sufficient resonance to activate the spell's full potential.

"Mason." My voice came out thin. "Look at this."

He leaned over, his shoulder brushing mine as he read. I felt the exact moment he understood—his entire body went rigid. The dread radiating off him hit me like a physical thing.

"Divine origin," he said slowly. "Like..."

"Like the Heart of Creation." The words tasted like ash. "It's the only artifact we know of that fits the description."

Mason was quiet for a long moment, his dark eyes fixed on the page. When he finally spoke, his voice was carefully controlled. "So the Harbingers aren't just looking for the Heart to gain power. They need it to make their weapon work."

I nodded. The motion felt heavy, wrong. "Which means..."

"Which means they're not going to stop until they find it." He straightened, running a hand through his short hair. "Tess, if they get their hands on both the Matrix and the Heart—"

"They could sever every bond in existence." Panic flared, hot and sharp through my chest. Thalon . Mason . The world tilted. The thought made my magic recoil, pulling tight against my ribs like it was trying to hide. "Dragon bonds, mate bonds, family connections—everything that ties us together."

The silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating. I turned back to my research, desperate for something—anything—that might tell us how to stop this. The next book was older than the others, its pages yellow with age and covered in script so faded I had to squint to make out the words.

But when I found the section on the Heart of Creation, the text was crystal clear.

Forged in the union of divine love, the Heart of Creation stands as the ultimate symbol of balance between Order and Chaos. Created by the Progenitors Alaia and Sovrax as both wedding gift and cosmic anchor, it embodies the perfect harmony of opposing forces.

My breath caught. "Mason, listen to this."

I read the passage aloud, my voice growing stronger as I continued.

The text went on to describe Alaia as the embodiment of chaos, growth, and change, while Sovrax represented order, structure, and stability.

Together, they had created not just the Heart, but the entire supernatural world—a realm where both forces could exist in balance.

"The Dragon Riders," I continued reading, "were established as the original guardians of the Heart, sworn to protect the artifact from those who would use its power to tip the cosmic balance toward either extreme."

Mason's eyes widened. "We're not just disaster response. We never were."

"No." I set the book down carefully, my hands shaking. "The Library, the Guild, the entire Rider system—it was all built around protecting the Heart. Everything else came later."

The implications slammed into me. Moriyana's words from our conversation echoed in my mind: You have a natural balance that resonates with the Library's very essence. Order and chaos, structure and freedom—you embody both.

"Oh," I whispered, the pieces clicking into place. "Oh, that's why..."

"Why what?" Mason leaned forward, concern creeping into his voice.

"Why the Library chose me. Why Thalon bonded with me." I looked up at him, and I could feel the blood draining from my face. "It's not because I'm special or powerful or any of that. It's because I'm balanced. Chaos and order, just like Alaia and Sovrax."

Mason's eyebrows shot up. "Tess, that is special. You're talking about a connection that no other being has ever achieved with the Library. That kind of perfect balance—it's not exactly common."

A beat of silence. Then his expression shifted, and I watched the exact moment when a new, darker realization hit him.

"Tess." His voice dropped low, almost a growl. "If the Harbingers know about the connection between the Heart and the Matrix—"

"They might know about the balance requirement too." The words tumbled out as understanding crashed over me. "They might know that someone like me would be the ideal person to—"

"To wield it." Mason's hands clenched into fists on the table. "They're not just after the Library. They're after you ."

The possessiveness in his tone sent a different kind of shiver down my spine.

The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees.

I could feel Mason's magic stirring, responding to his emotional state.

His gargoyle heritage was protective by nature, and right now, every instinct he had was screaming that I was in danger.

"We don't know that for sure," I said, but the words sounded hollow even to me. Too many coincidences. Too many connections.

"Don't we?" Mason stood abruptly, beginning to pace like a caged animal.

"Think about it, Tess. You show up at the Library, and suddenly it's more active than it's been in centuries.

You bond with a dragon that no one else could even approach.

You develop magic that's both chaos and order combined.

And now we find out that the weapon they're building requires exactly the kind of power you represent? "

Each word made his voice rougher, more strained. I could see the tension building in his shoulders, the way his movements were becoming more predatory. His gargoyle side was emerging, triggered by the threat to someone he was bonded to protect.

"Mason." I stood too, moving carefully toward him. "You need to breathe."

"I need to keep you safe." He stopped pacing and turned to face me, and I saw that his eyes had shifted—stone-gray, the color they got when his other nature was close to the surface.

"They're going to come for you, Tess. Not just as a Dragon Rider, not just as the Librarian. As the key to their weapon."

I reached out and caught his hands, feeling the way his magic cycled just beneath his skin—protective, defensive, ready to shift into something that could stand between me and any threat.

"Hey," I said softly. "Look at me."

I had my own fears about what we'd discovered, but through our bond I could feel his protectiveness washing over me in waves—fierce, primal, and barely contained.

It took a moment, but his gaze finally focused on mine. The gray was still there, but I could see Mason underneath it.

"We're going to figure this out," I told him. "Together."