Chapter 23
Gregory
Ihad finally surrendered to a peaceful dark, a mercy I hadn’t experienced in days. That sanctuary shattered in a heartbeat, replaced instantly by a suffocating blaze.
Gravity returned with a brutal slam, driving my bones against stone. I scrambled upright on instinct, fighting for balance as jagged rock bit into my bare soles, the tearing pain locking my legs.
Searing heat scorched my chest as my lungs burned from the thin, sulfuric fumes. The ground rumbled, a deep grinding beneath a precarious ledge. Dull pressure built until my ears popped, muting everything to a distant drone.
Through that rumble, a faint cry cut through. “Gregory,” Evan called, shaking all over. His knuckles were bone-white where he fisted the fabric of my trousers. The oversized shirt hung off his frame, the hem dark with grime, and soot streaked his cheeks, mingling with fresh tears.
I cupped his jaw, brushed away the dirt, and crushed him close, tucking him flush against me, away from the crumbling edge. Untamed portal energy shimmered off him in visible currents. The metallic taste of his magic was so strong it left the tang of a jester coin at the back of my throat.
“It’s okay,” I murmured into his hair. “I’ve got you.”
I scanned the landscape, from the glowing chasm below to the smoke-choked sky, scouring for any familiar landmark in the oppressive inferno. I stopped searching the horizon when Evan’s breathing grew harsh, each gasp a frantic, hitching noise that vibrated through my ribs.
Before he could collapse, I moved, scooping him off the ground. He grappled for me, and his arms locked around my neck, his breath a feverish heat on my skin. He buried his face in the curve of my throat, muttering a broken mantra. “I left Mom. It’s my fault. It’s my fault…”
His fear was a summons, and the feral beast in my blood responded to it. My teeth ached as my canines grew, and my fingertips burned as claws formed. Every muscle tensed, ready to protect him from whatever had hurt him.
I snapped my head up, searching for the enemy, but a deafening eruption from the depths answered—fire and molten rock shot into the night sky, bathing everything in an orange glow. As the ground shook, I finally recognized it—the Emberfall Cliffs, the place of the Test of Wills.
I spun, protecting Evan with my back as lava spatter rained down around us. Blistering intensity struck my shoulder, and the earth’s thunder swallowed the hiss of my skin burning. Only the omega I carried mattered. I had to keep him from the fire.
Ignoring the burn in my shoulder, I shifted my grip, adjusting Evan in my arms to see him.
With my thumb, I brushed the sweat-soaked hair from his forehead.
“Evan, look at me.” I tilted his chin up, so he had no choice but to meet my eyes.
“You have to get us out of here. Can you do it again? Can you open a portal back to the cabin?”
His eyes were wide and vacant as his lips quivered. “I can’t,” he choked out, his voice nearly drowned out by the howl of the wind. “I don’t know how I…”
What had triggered his magic? How could I make it happen again? I lost the questions to the terror pouring off him and the crumbling rock beneath my feet. I pressed my forehead to his. “Think of the cabin. The bed, the fireplace. Think of anywhere but here, Evan. Please.”
He broke then, a sob wracking through him as he shook his head. “I’m sorry.”
His apology was glass in my chest. I only managed to hold his head, desperate to comfort him. He was right here, but I couldn’t keep him safe.
A horrifying question crashed through my shock. Why here? Of all the hellscapes in the world, why had his nightmare thrown us into my birth home? I cradled his head against me and roared, my anger echoing across the fiery cliffs where I’d been born.
A massive retort responded to mine with a loud, guttural thunder that shook the very rock beneath my feet.
We both jerked our heads upward. Through the thick, swirling clouds of smoke, a massive form emerged—vast and monstrous.
Wind blasted down upon us as two immense wings pummeled the air, shredding the smoke and ash into nothing.
There, backlit by the violent orange glow of the blast, was a dragon.
Its scales were the color of obsidian, glittering like black glass where they reflected the shine of a distant moon and the glowing magma below.
Those orbs—the size of dinner plates—shone with the serene, cold radiance of blue jewels.
“Gregory…” Evan breathed. “There’s a fucking dragon there.”
“By the gods…” I didn’t hesitate. I spun and ran, holding Evan tight.
I searched the peak for any way down, an old game trail, a gentler slope, anything.
To the left, the path crumbled away into a steep slope of scree, so I veered right, my feet slipping on loose shale as I fought for purchase.
The creature opened its mouth, and molten lava poured out, chasing us down the mountain and swallowing the rock behind us.
As the dragon bellowed, cold dread flooded my veins. It was a nightmare from my childhood. This magic, this monster, was the test I could never pass—the ability to control the fire inside me. The creature was me, a mirage of what I feared most.
I pushed my legs harder, but we would never be able to outrun it. “We have to get out of here!” I shouted, fighting to be heard over the howl of the fire. “Evan, open a portal!”
He buried himself in my shoulder, chanting our destination in a panicked rush. “Cabin… cabin… cabin…”
A menacing red light bloomed at our backs, and the dragon’s throat began to heat again. It was gathering fire. “EVAN, NOW!”
Reality tore apart with a crushing, violent pressure. This wasn’t like the stable, crystal-formed doorways I’d used in the Empire, but an uncontrolled force, the universe itself trying to squeeze us through a crack never intended to open.
One moment, there was fire and falling rocks, and the next, the impact of a wooden floor. We crashed down hard, the timbers of the cabin groaning under the force of our arrival as I landed, still holding Evan tight.
The sudden silence of the cabin snapped me back to the present, but my adrenaline was gone, replaced by a blinding torment.
My entire ribcage screamed. I couldn’t breathe.
The unshielded teleportation, the sheer pressure of being wrenched through space without a stable portal, had shattered me from the inside out—jagged edges of broken ribs grated together with every shallow, desperate gasp.
My dragon blood surged into action, healing me. An intense furnace flooded my torso as my body instantly began to knit bone back together.
Fighting through the agony slowed my urgent assessment of Evan. I gave up searching for physical wounds and simply pulled him onto my lap, gritting my teeth against the fire in my own chest. He responded to that, wrapping his legs around my waist and his arms around my neck.
His deep sobs shook his body. I held him tighter and gently rocked us back and forth on the broken floor, running my hand through his hair.
Three nights. Only three nights since we’d retrieved Evan’s belongings from Genevieve’s shop.
Three nights since he’d found that picture of his mother and clutched it to his chest with tears streaming down his face.
Three nights since I’d faced the council’s fury over what happened in the village square, Adam’s jaw tightening with worry while Elder Xavier—the Magistrate—hurled stones at me.
I deserved every one of them. I’d nearly lost control and destroyed the village. Alaric had been right—I was a danger to them all.
The three nights since then had unraveled everything.
On the first two nights, Evan had woken up gasping and shaking, his panic worsening. And on the second night, his hands had sparked with emerald magic.
I should have known then. Should have understood what was building.
Tonight—the third night—his nightmare had ripped us out of reality.
I buried my nose in his copper hair, breathing in his scent beneath the sulfur and ash. My ribs were nearly healed now, the dragon blood working its relentless repair, but the terror remained lodged in my chest like a shard of ice.
I’d never imagined a nightmare could trigger a Conduit’s power. My sweet Evan had no training. No conditioning. His magic responded to the ragged edges of his emotions rather than conscious thought.
My mate’s power didn’t need crystals or spells or careful incantations. It needed only his heart, and his heart was bleeding.