Chapter 42
FORTY-TWO
AERO
Aero’s dragon tore free.
Not the controlled shift he’d mastered over centuries—this was violent, primal, his human form shredding as the beast erupted from within.
Scales ripped through skin. Wings burst from his back, membrane spreading in a forty-foot span.
His jaw elongated, teeth lengthening into razors, claws punching through fingertips.
His roar shook the foundations of buildings, cracked windows, sent Haven Shores’s remaining residents fleeing. It was a sound of pure rage—eight hundred years of control destroyed in a single moment of devastation.
He didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything except the creature who had hurt his mate.
Lightning exploded from his body—not called, not controlled, just pure rage made manifest in electrical discharge. It struck the water around Nerissa’s pillar, superheating it into steam. The harbor boiled where his fury touched it.
He launched from the seawall, wings catching the wind he’d helped summon, and dove toward the siren with murder burning in his ancient heart. No thought. No strategy. Just the primal, screaming need to destroy.
She was diving. Her pillar collapsed as she abandoned it, her body cutting through the water toward the open ocean. Running. Fleeing.
His dragon screamed its rage at the siren’s retreating form, demanding she turn and face what she’d done. She didn’t.
He pursued her, lightning striking the surface in massive arcs, steam rising in clouds. But she was faster in the water than he was in the air, and she dove deep—deeper than he could follow, deeper than his fire could reach.
She was gone.
And Cassia—
Mate, his dragon keened. Mate hurt. Go back. Go back NOW.
He wheeled in the air, wings beating frantically, and dove back toward the seawall. The shift happened mid-flight—scales retracting, wings folding, his body shrinking back to human form. He landed hard, knees buckling, and scrambled across the wet stone to where Cassia lay.
She wasn’t moving.
She wasn’t breathing.
“No.” His voice came out broken, barely human. “No, no, no—”
Blood pooled beneath her head, dark against the gray stone. Her face was too pale, her lips going blue. He pressed his hands to her chest, searching for a heartbeat, finding nothing but stillness.
Dragon healing magic was limited. They were built for destruction, not restoration—fire and lightning and death, not the delicate work of mending broken things. But he tried. Poured every scrap of energy he had into her, his dragon lending its strength, both of them desperate.
Someone was shouting. Footsteps pounded against stone. He was vaguely aware of people approaching—Theo’s voice, Narla’s calm urgency, the crackle of healing magic gathering.
“Move.” Junie’s face appeared in his vision, tear-streaked but determined. “Aero, you have to move. The healers need space.”
“I can’t—”
“You can. You will.” Hands gripped his shoulders—Leo’s, he realized dimly, pulling him back from Cassia’s body. “Let them work.”
He let himself be moved. Not because he wanted to—every cell in his body screamed to stay beside her, to protect her, to burn the world to ash if she didn’t wake up. But Leo’s grip was iron, and Junie was already kneeling beside Cassia, her chaos magic shifting into something focused and healing.
“Breathe,” Leo said quietly, his hand still firm on Aero’s shoulder. “Let them work. She’s strong. She’s survived worse than this.”
Had she? Aero couldn’t remember. Couldn’t think past the image of her body hitting the stone, the sound of bones cracking, the terrible stillness afterward.
Other witches joined the healing effort.
Narla, her serene face finally showing cracks of fear, her owl familiar landing beside Cassia’s head like a silent guardian.
Avine, tears streaming down her cheeks as she channeled energy from somewhere deep within.
The pack’s healer—a wolf named Marcus, Aero remembered suddenly—pressing glowing hands to Cassia’s chest with focused intensity.
Aero stood apart, watching. His hands were covered in her blood. His dragon was making sounds he’d never heard before—keening, whimpering, a beast in agony. He couldn’t feel his legs. Couldn’t feel anything except the gaping void where his heart used to be.
Time stretched. Seconds became hours. The sun climbed higher, indifferent to the woman dying on the seawall.
Please, he thought at nothing, at everything. I’ll do anything. Take anything. Just let her live.
The healers worked in silence. He watched Junie’s brow furrow, watched Narla’s hands tremble, watched the glow of their magic pulse and fade and pulse again.
“Something’s wrong.” The wolf healer’s voice was grim. “She’s not responding. The damage is too—”
“Don’t.” Junie’s voice cracked. “Don’t say it. Keep trying.”
“Junie—”
“I said keep trying!”
More magic. More effort. Aero watched his mate’s face, searching for any sign of life—a flutter of eyelids, a twitch of fingers, anything. She remained still. Cold. Wrong.
He was going to kill Nerissa. When this was over—when Cassia was—
He couldn’t finish the thought. Couldn’t think the word.
The glow around Cassia’s body pulsed brighter. Junie made a sound—half sob, half laugh. “There. There, I’ve got something. She’s—”
Cassia coughed.
Aero’s legs gave out.
He didn’t remember crossing the distance between them. One moment, he was standing, the next, he was on his knees beside her, gathering her into his arms, shaking so hard he could barely hold on.
“Aero?” Her voice was barely a whisper, her eyes fluttering open to find his face. “What… what happened?”
“I love you.”
The words tore out of him—desperate, terrified. He should have said them last night. Should have said them days ago, weeks ago, the first moment he understood what she meant to him.
“I should have told you before. I’ve never said it to anyone—I didn’t know how—but I love you, Cassia. And if you die, I will burn this world to ashes.”
She stared at him. Blood was still drying in her hair. Her skin was too pale, her breathing too shallow. But her lips curved into something that might have been a smile.
“That’s…” She coughed again, wincing. “Very romantic. In a terrifying way.”
“I mean every word.”
“I know.” Her hand found his cheek, weak but determined. Her fingers were trembling. “I love you too. Even though you’re ancient and impossible and took entirely too long to get here.”
A sound escaped him—half laugh, half sob. “Every day.”
“Good.” Her eyes fluttered, the effort of staying conscious clearly taxing her. “We have a siren to stop.”
“Rest now.” He pressed his forehead to hers, breathing her in. Alive. She was alive. Broken and bloodied, but alive. “The siren can wait.”
“Can she?”
“She’ll have to.” His arms tightened around her. “I’m not leaving your side until you’re healed. And then—” His jaw set. “Then we finish this.”
Cassia’s eyes searched his face. Whatever she saw there made her relax slightly, some of the tension leaving her battered body.
“Side by side?” she asked quietly.
He kissed her forehead, gentle despite the rage still simmering beneath his skin. “In tandem. Every time.”
Her eyes closed. Her breathing steadied. Around them, the healers continued their work, and Aero held his mate against his chest, feeling her heartbeat—slow but steady—against his own.
Nerissa had escaped. The town was battered but standing. Cassia was alive.
It wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.
But for now—for this one moment—it was enough.