Page 17

A soft thud marks the door closing behind me, and silence follows—thick, unnatural. Too quiet. Too heavy.

I lean back against the wood, exhaling a breath that trembles through me.

The hearth burns low, casting a dying glow across the stone walls. Shadows dance like ghosts, stretching long and thin. This tower, this room, is supposed to feel safe. Familiar by now.

But it doesn’t.

Not after him.

Not after the way Kainen said my name like a vow wrapped in fire and steel.

I drift toward the window, moonlight and ash-laced smoke bleeding into the sky beyond. Somewhere out there, past the charred trees and ruined borders, something ancient stirs. Something monstrous. Something broken.

But it’s not that storm that claws at me.

It’s the one he left inside me.

His touch still lingers at my waist, burned into my skin. The heat of his breath still ghosts my neck. The weight of his hands —rough, possessive, reverent—held me like I was more than just a girl torn from one world and dropped into another. Not a prisoner. Not even a curse.

I should hate him for it.

For the way he watches me like I’m the next war he’ll conquer.

For the way he kissed me like it meant something.

Like I meant something.

But I don’t hate him.

And that terrifies me more than anything else.

Because when he said he’d find me if I ran… part of me didn’t want to run. A broken part of me wanted to be found. Wanted to be his . Not because I’m weak. Not because I’m his to claim.

But because the darkness in him sees something in me. And maybe—maybe—I see it too.

I sit at the edge of the bed, my hands trembling in my lap. I could pretend it was adrenaline. Battle haze. The aftermath of survival.

But it wasn’t.

It was real.

And worse—it’s dangerous.

Because Kainen doesn't seem the kind of man who gives without reason. He doesn’t offer pieces of himself lightly. Not without a cost. Not without consequence.

And if I fall into this...

If I let myself want him...

He’ll burn the world to keep me.

And he’ll burn me too.

Once again, the dream returns.

Flame. Wings. A city built from wealth and ruin.

I stand in the center of it all, barefoot on scorched marble, the scent of burning flowers tangling in my hair. Ash drifts down like snow. Behind me, something roars—not with anger, but with grief. I start to turn toward it, heart pounding?—

And I wake, gasping.

My skin is slick with sweat. My breath fogs in the cold night air as I stumble from bed and find no guard at my door and head to the courtyard. The sky above is a blanket of stars… but I still see it. That other sky. The fire. The phases of the room.

“What do you remember?” a voice asks behind me.

I flinch—but it’s just Malachi. He emerges from the shadows like he was born from them.

“Nothing,” I whisper. “Everything. I don’t know.”

He joins me, his eyes fixed on the sky.

“You smell like ancient magic,” he says. “Like something buried inside you is beginning to rise.”

“I saw a golden city,” I tell him. “It burned like hell. And I wasn’t afraid. I was waiting.”

He says nothing for a moment.

“Dragons remember things others forget,” he says at last. “Through blood. Through dreams. You’re not one of us… but you’re close.”

“How close?”

He finally turns to me, and in his eyes, I see fire again. Not just recognition—but memory.

“There was once a girl born of flame,” Malachi says softly. “She walked with dragons. She was a princess to this world and was meant to marry a cursed king. The gods before me said she would burn to save it.”

“And you think I’m her?”

“I think history doesn’t die. It waits.”

My throat tightens. “Kainen doesn’t trust me.”

“No,” Malachi replies. “He fears that he does.”

I glance toward the castle. The windows are dark.

“I don’t want to be someone else,” I murmur.

“Then don’t be,” Malachi says. “Be both.”

The hallway crackles with the heat of our voices.

"I asked for none of this!!" I yell and twirl on Kainen. "You treat me like a weapon ready for explosion—and maybe I am, but you don't get to decide."

His jaw clenches, black eyes flashing. "You are hiding something." From yourself if not from me.

"That is unfair—" fair.

"No," he says, walking toward me. "Watching you play at being powerless, about to break, is unfair."

I recoil like he’s struck me. The words land harder than they should.

I respond, firmly pushing past him, "I need air." I need to breathe.

Hedoesn't follow.

Good.

My skin is shocked by the cold outdoors as I run into the royal grounds. The trees, like shadows, calm and unusual; the night is foggy. I move fast, deeper into the dark. And then something changes.

A noise. A breath. A flicker of movement too fast for human eyes.

I turn, and they show up.

Not Fae. Not the Nightfallen. Figures from the shadows emerge with twisted limbs and overly big grins.

They rush me, and then fire erupts in flames. Their screams pierce my ears. A dam bursts in my chest; it's not from them, but from me. Heat burns the ground, flames whirl outward in a savage whirlwind. The flames do not cease even as the animals wail and flee.

It doesn't quit. My lungs seize, my eyes burn, and the planet becomes light and fire and horror.

Then a fresh roar pierces through the tumult. The air splits as something enormous falls from the heavens, wings open and scales shining like obsidian seared by lightning.

Malachi.

He falls between the flames and me, his dragon form coiling around me in a broad, shielding circle. His body is a fortification of presence, not of weapons. He drops his huge head next to mine and looks at me through molten golden eyes.

Breathe, I can sense him say. Not expressed in words but rather in the bones of my skull, in the fire that at last starts to retreat.

My legs weaken, but as the final embers die, his wing drapes softly between me and the flames to protect me.

I whisper, voice breaking, not meant to. "I meant not to?—”

The ground trembles once again.

Kainen, appearing in a flash of darkness and gold, shows up with a tremendous blast of magic. His coat breaks in the breeze, eyes wild as they rest on me—crouched, shivering, shielded by a dragon.

"What happened?" His voice is harsh with anxiety. He moves forward. "Selene—are you injured?"

Malachi raises his head and groans gently.

"She's safe," he says, the words formed by magic vibrating in the air. "You're late."

Kainen flinches, shame playing over his features.

"As soon as I sensed you calling, I arrived."

Malachi says, "You weren't fast enough," then raises his wing to let me breathe completely.

I stagger straight forward. Kainen comes to assist me, but I step aside before he can touch me.

"There was so much fire," I reply, just above a whisper.

Kainen remarks, "You called the fire." And it responded.

"No," I murmur. "That's impossible."

His eyes deepen as he studies me. "Then how?" Kainen looks back at me, then once at Malachi. "Selene, you are not alone in this."

I shake my head, uncertain. “Aren’t I?”