Chapter 23
Ciaran
The corner of my mouth tilted into a faint smirk as I pulled shadows closer around me, not to disappear but to distort, to unsettle. Dragons prided their senses as sharper than any other species, but even their instincts were susceptible to a well-woven Shadow Fae illusion.
They stirred again, their luminous eyes scanning the space where I stood. Idly, I draped a thin layer of magic over my presence—just enough to confuse, to make them question whether the shimmer at the edge of their vision was real or imagined.
The larger of the pair rumbled—a low, tectonic sound that vibrated in my ribcage, but I didn’t break my stride.
You sense us. Good. Feel how powerless you are to stop us.
By the time their suspicion crystallized, I had already slipped past the glowing wards and into the mass of stone and etching that formed the Council’s entry door. The air trembled faintly as they resumed their vigil. If they had been aware of my presence, they were too unsure to act on it.
The crack in the massive doorway—a hidden overlook disguised with ivy—was right where it had always been. My fingers brushed the grooves in the ancient stone until I felt the resistance thrumming beneath my palm. I leaned forward, lips brushing the faintest whisper of incantation. The door shuddered once, reluctant, as though it recognized me but disapproved. Then the magic yielded, the way it always had.
I stepped into the concealed corridor, letting the stone seal itself again behind me, any evidence erased. The hum of the wards outside faded into silence.
Towering, black stone walls rose on either side. I made my way deeper into the labyrinth the Elders called their inner sanctum.
This was for her. It was always for her.
Tess had too many enemies, too many secrets she hadn’t yet uncovered. If she needed me, I would be ready. I would have answers.
I would not fail her.
The secret library wasn’t far—buried in the heart of their fortress. Those who wielded knowledge always underestimated what determination could do.
Determination like mine.
The air itself seemed to change as I crossed the threshold into the library. Shelves carved from polished obsidian stretched high into the vaulted ceiling. Dragonfire orbs illuminated the room in a soft, flickering glow, casting long, dancing shadows. Crystalline artifacts lined the walls, each one thrumming faintly with the energy of the knowledge it contained.
I moved between the shelves, trailing fingertips lightly over scrolls wrapped in leather and glowing fragments of Flameborn Lore encased in translucent glass. I paused before one artifact— a shard of bone etched with swirling patterns. It pulsed faintly as my hand brushed near, as though testing me.
Not today, I thought, withdrawing my hand. My objective lay deeper still.
Navigating the labyrinth of shelves, I paused now and then to investigate. A scroll buzzed faintly under my touch, its enchantments protesting my presence like an irate fly. I flicked it open briefly, letting its contents flare in sparks of red glyphs before dismissing it. Another shelf contained what looked like a shimmering lattice meant to catalog crimes against the Elder Council—dull reading.
But then I saw it, glowing faintly, nearly hidden beneath layers of magical obfuscation—an alcove bathed in faint amber light.
Found you.
Approaching the pedestal, I leaned closer. The Flameborn crystal rested atop its intricate stand of woven iron and stone, pulsing softly with life. I took a breath, steadying the flare of anticipation that raced through me. This was no longer a game of curiosity. This was a moment that might change everything.
With a flick of my wrist, I called forth a tongue of dragonfire, tinged black as midnight. Shadow Fae like me weren’t supposed to wield such magic—it was antithetical to our chaotic nature. And that, perhaps, was why the Council had never foreseen this moment. Their arrogance, as always, left blind spots to exploit.
The fire licked at the surface of the crystal, dissipating like mist. The glow intensified, like molten amber, until my vision blurred, and I was pulled into the story embedded within the artifact.
???
I was no longer in the alcove of the Library; I wasn’t even me . I was watching through eyes that didn’t belong to me, feeling emotions so enormous they threatened to tear me apart.
I was no longer in the alcove of the Library; I wasn’t even me . I was watching through eyes that didn’t belong to me, feeling emotions so enormous they threatened to tear me apart.
An immense dragon stood atop a dais of black volcanic stone, her scales shifting between gold, obsidian, and deep amethyst, flickering like living flames. Power radiated from her in waves so intense that even in this borrowed memory, it prickled against my skin. Above her, the sky churned with fire and storm, the air thick with the raw scent of magic and destruction.
A battle raged around her. I could hear the distant roars of other dragons, the clash of steel, the screams of the dying. Chaos reigned, and the balance she had once sworn to protect teetered on the edge of collapse.
Her voice trembled through the air, resonating deep within me. “For centuries, we thrived as stewards of harmony. But now, the world trembles. Unity has faded, splintered by hatred, greed, pride. I will do what must be done.”
This was no simple declaration. It was a vow, etched into the very fabric of existence. I felt her pain, her resolve, the weight of the choice she had already made.
The ground beneath her rumbled as she extended her claws, digging deep into the volcanic rock. Magic surged through her, a force so immense it made the mountain quake. The storm above howled in answer, the land itself recoiling in anticipation.
Then, she roared .
It was not just a sound—it was sacrifice, defiance, love, and farewell all woven into one devastating cry. The force of it cracked the stone, split the sky, and sent a shockwave of power rippling through the battlefield. She unleashed everything—her life, her essence, her very soul.
Flames erupted from her body, golden fire laced with ribbons of shadow, engulfing her in an inferno so blinding that I had to shield my eyes. When the light finally dimmed, she was gone.
In her place, an orb of staggering brilliance hovered above the dais, pulsating with molten fire and shifting shadows. Waves of magic rippled outward from it, filled with intent, with purpose . The Draconis Heart had been born.
It pulsed once. Twice. Then it reached outward—not with hands, but with something far deeper, more primal. It was searching .
The vision blurred, flickering through time, revealing those the Heart had chosen. Not the strongest. Not the wisest. But those who could weave bonds where others saw only division. Those shaped by hardship, forged through creativity, bound by an unshakable will to unite.
The force of that realization slammed into me like a physical blow. I stumbled backward in the memory, gasping. It hadn’t been an accident.
The Draconis Heart chose Tess.
The Heart hadn’t chosen her out of coincidence. Tess wasn’t just part of this world. She was meant to be here.
Which meant the Library had chosen her too. It had called to her, drawn her in, just as the Heart had. The thought sent a shiver through me. The Library wasn’t some passive archive of knowledge—it was alive, sentient in ways few understood. And if it had reached for Tess, if it had claimed her, then it wasn’t just offering her a place among its halls. It had a purpose for her, something deeper than any of us had realized.
My feelings for her surged into something undefinable—primal, furious, protective. Tess wasn’t just mine to care for; she was mine to defend, mine to shield from everything this world and the next dared to throw at her.
And if the Library—if anyone—thought they could manipulate her, twist her, use her... they wouldn’t live long enough to regret their mistake.
???
The portal to Earth closed behind me with an audible snap, leaving no trace of where I’d come from except the faint buzz of residual magic.
The wilderness sprawled around me, vibrant yet perilous. Ancient trees rose like sentinels, their twisted branches allowing beams of filtered moonlight to dapple the leaf-strewn ground. Instinctively, I scanned the area, tension writhing in my abdomen. Tess.
The thought of her burned hotter than the power still faintly coursing through my veins. She should be finishing the Survival Challenge, nearing the finish line of the grueling tests the Guild had thrown at her. Every step of the challenge had been meant to gauge her strength, endurance, and wit—designed to weed out pretenders and reveal the truly worthy.
But something wasn’t right.
A shift in the air cut through my nerves like a blade. The acrid scent of smoke drifted on the wind, threading through the rich, earthy smells of the forest. At first, it was faint—a whisper of danger that could have been dismissed as the remnants of some campfire.
Until I saw the flames.
In the distance, the sky glowed a sickly orange. Smoke churned, rising in pillars like the twisting limbs of a vengeful spirit. I clenched my jaw as the knot of dread in my gut tightened into a vice. This wasn’t part of the challenge. It couldn’t be.
But the flames didn't care about plans or challenges—they were consuming everything in the exact area where my mate was supposed to be.