Chapter 15
Chapter
Fifteen
FINLEY
I balked at the words that scraped against my chest like jagged glass.
Healing. It echoed in my head, foreign and sharp.
Healing. It wasn’t a word I’d associated with myself or my magic. How could I when all I knew was death? When my value was determined by the destruction I caused?
Willow’s eyes flicked to Kassidy, seeming to ask her permission. “I can prove it.”
“I don’t think—”
Willow rose from the table, cutting me off while she peered down at her sister’s frown. “Solana still suffers. Allow me to prove it with her.” She said it with such unwavering calm, I almost believed her.
“You can’t possibly think—”
“I don’t think,” Willow told me. “I recognize it.” She glanced at Kassidy. “We’ll go to the cave.”
Brenton was the first to stand, tugging my finger before he let go. I gripped his hand harder, my heart torn at the loss of contact.
He brushed his lips over my hair. “I didn’t know if you’d want to stand on your own,” he said so low that only fae ears could hear him.
While normally I would, I needed his strength. His bravery.
I let him pull me to my feet, his presence the only thing keeping my knees from buckling.
We left our uneaten food, the crisp air of the mountain we climbed filling my lungs while the little I’d eaten turned in my stomach.
Zaicha’s words of more circled inside my head. Could that more mean healer?
My steps were heavy and leaden. My magic churned beneath the surface, building and restless with each bubbling wave. I held on to Brenton harder, fisting my other hand just as tight.
Willing to have the control that seemed out of reach. Panic surged, and just as I was getting ready to call for Hoshiko and ask him to take me away, Everly touched my shoulder.
“Finley.” Her voice was quiet but firm. “The vial.”
I exhaled, grabbing the vial from the inner pocket of my magic while my magic began to burn beneath my skin. I clasped the vial.
“Breathe,” she reminded me. “Let it out slowly.”
With my eyes stinging, I wanted to shut them, but instead, I watched the small waves that formed in the vial as I released my magic into it.
“Don’t hold it in,” she continued, her tone gentle yet firm.
Death’s pulse rode with my exhale, sliding into the vial in a small haze of red that disappeared into the clear water. My chest loosened, but fear still clung to me.
“Look at how amazing you are, Lolli,” Brenton said, his eyes on the vial I continued to fill slowly. “This is you. Not your magic. You. You get to choose how it leaves you.”
My magic snarled in answer, but I clung to his words. Another slow exhale. Another trickle into the glass.
“That’s it,” he whispered, his hand tightening around mine. “Steady. Controlled.”
The pressure inside built stronger, sharper, trying to rip free of me. My hand trembled around the vial as the red threads of my magic streamed faster. More frantic. Trying to claw out.
A choked sob escaped me.
“Easy, Lolli,” Brenton murmured. “You’re doing it. You’re bending it to your will.”
Tears blurred my vision as I fought against the swell, the part of me that only knew how to unleash and turn everything into ruin. But I pressed on, forcing my magic to trickle rather than flood. Breath after breath.
“That’s it,” he whispered, his tone bleeding with pride. “You’re doing this. Not the magic. Only you.”
The vial grew heavier, filling with the red threads of my magic that unraveled into it, vanishing one by one as the roar inside began to lessen. My shoulders straightened. My fingers still trembled, my magic still burned.
But I was doing it. Steady. Controlled.
When the last curl of my magic slipped into the glass, the storm relented, leaving me raw but unbroken.
Brenton’s eyes found mine, pride burning from them like the sun breaking free of the clouds. He leaned closer, his words only for me to hear.
“That’s my girl. My brave dragon. You can conquer anything.”
My breath hitched at his words. At the fierce pride that twined through them.
My brave dragon.
My hand trembled as I put away the vial, my eyes never leaving his face. I leaned into him, into the warmth he provided.
“Your Lolli,” I said, just as low.
His eyes filled with emotion and love. His love for me. “My Lolli.”
How wrong I’d been in thinking I couldn’t be strong at his side.
Kassidy broke the silence first, her tone softer than before. “I don’t know magic, but I know a good soul when I see one. I’m sorry for my earlier caution. It was unjust.”
“It was understandable,” I said. “My magic . . . if I hadn’t been able to control it—”
“You would’ve brought your own ruin before you permitted it to harm any of us,” Kassidy retorted. “And you”—she turned to Brenton—“stood at her side without flinching. Some males would’ve seized control on their own. You didn’t. You let her hold her own strength.”
I brushed my shoulder against Brenton’s in silent acknowledgment and thanks. It had been his encouraging words, his faith in me, that had not only centered me but pushed me forward.
I hadn’t done it alone, but with Brenton and Everly at my side.
Wordlessly, we continued our hike up the mountain, my palm against Brenton’s until we reached the cave.
Kassidy ducked in first, her steps echoing against the stone, and we trailed her.
The deeper we went, the more dragons we passed.
Their hulking shadows were curled tight against the walls, their scales dulled to an ash gray.
The air grew thicker with the sour tang of rot and smoke.
Each ragged breath, every fatigued twitch of their tails, scraped against my chest.
Death prowled here. Patient but hungry. And already, its teeth had claimed too many.
“Why is it you cannot heal the sick dragons?” I asked Willow.
“I can only heal through my dragon’s magic,” she said, her eyes on the cave floor. “His magic only seems to worsen their condition. Your magic will help, though.”
I bobbed my head in a nod before I could think even though the motion felt stiff, almost dishonest. The cavern itself seemed to hold its breath.
Dragons untouched by the dark magic shifted, their heavy eyes lowering to me.
Their hope pressed into my ribs, too big to fit.
I fixed my gaze on the ground, on the cracks in the stone beneath my boots, because to meet their eyes felt like a promise I couldn’t give.
My magic had always been a blade, not a balm. “I hope you’re right, Willow, but—”
“I’m right,” she replied.
“Do you ever permit someone to finish speaking?” Brenton asked, his voice a light tease as he grinned at the young female.
Her smile was bashful. “It’s a bad habit my parents were never able to scold out of me.”
Everitt knocked his shoulder against hers. “That’s only because what you have to say is too important to keep in.”
Kassidy tousled her younger brother’s damp hair, her smile curved in approval. Everitt beamed.
Far too soon, we reached where Solana rested. Her massive head sagged atop taloned paws. The sharp edge of her power dulled and folded into something frail.
As it’d done before, my magic flared. I held it fast, wrapping my arms across my chest.
“There.” Willow turned to face me. “Your magic wants to heal her.”
I wound my arms tighter, giving my head a sharp shake. “You’re mistaken, Willow. My magic does not wish to heal anyone.”
The threads of my magic flooded through my veins, burning and flaming and ready to strike.
Her small hand circled my wrist, and I jerked away, turning my head back toward the entrance.
My magic bubbled, and when I pulled out my vial, Willow cupped a hand over it.
“Please, trust me,” she said. “Let me show you what you can do.”
Before I could reply, Willow’s eyes swirled to an endless white, and a gentle tug pulled at my magic, a silent request in the center of my chest. I gripped the threads of my magic harder, only trying to release it into the vial.
Willow’s next pull came stronger.
Amid the crowd watching us, I sought out Kassidy.
“Tell her to stop.” My voice shook just as hard as the hand I fisted at my chest.
Kassidy’s gaze bounced from her sister to me, her lips pressed together in a thin line.
“I trust my sister,” she finally said.
An even stronger pull came from deep inside my belly, and when my magic sparked at my fingertips, I let out a strangled whimper. Brenton’s hand went to my stomach, his other hand cupping my cheek.
“I’m here with you, Lolli,” he said quietly. “I put up a protective barrier around Solana and us. If she’s wrong, your magic won’t harm the others. But she’s not wrong, Lolli.” He took my hand to hold against his chest. “I feel it in here. There’s more to your magic. Let her show you.”
I shook my head, still fighting against Willow’s incessant request. “What if I hurt you?”
“Your magic won’t hurt me,” he said. “It never has, even before your training. I’m safe with you.”
He was right. Even before I’d learned how to control it, my magic had never struck him.
“Willow and Solana?” My voice wobbled with the weight of what he was asking of me.
“This is Willow’s decision with Kassidy’s approval,” he said. “You are not responsible for their choices.”
My bottom lip wobbled.
“Let go, Lolli.”
His hazel eyes centered me, so steady in the storm of my doubt. They weren’t demanding or teasing, but certain. Sure in me and in the magic I despised.
I wanted to laugh or scream. Let go? Did he know what he was asking of me?
Yet his hand waited, palm out and inviting. I slid my fingers through his, grasping him like the tether I needed at that moment.
I shuddered out a breath, the threads of my magic coiled tight around my veins. Willow’s presence tugged again.
Brenton’s thumb grazed across my knuckles, his eyes never leaving mine.
So I let go. I didn’t surrender control but opened myself enough for Willow to weave her own binding through my magic. The dark pulse of my magic spilled out. I squeezed Brenton’s hand, for once not caging any part of myself in.
The magic surged. Stronger, faster. My primal instincts rose with it, panic gripping me with the need to seize it back.
“I’ve got you, Lolli, always.” Brenton’s voice came steady, his gaze never wavering. “But you’ve got this, too.”
I sucked in his words with a greedy breath. He didn’t offer to be my shield, but he reminded me that he believed in me.
So I opened myself wider. Willow wove the red threads of my magic, her binding making it glow in the darkened cavern as if it were something alive and fierce. A pulse of it went through Solana’s massive body, sinking below the dulled scales.
The draga’s body shuddered, the first movement she’d made since our arrival. Then her labored breaths eased. It was subtle, but Willow’s attention flickered to mine, tears clinging to her lashes as she continued to work my magic through Solana.
My chest tightened as I witnessed the impossible.
Death’s hold withdrew to give way to life.
Still, my magic wasn’t gentle. It hissed and lashed, yet Willow kept it grounded, while Brenton grounded me. His presence was comfort and freedom, all at once. It was holding me steady while never holding me back.
As I watched, Solana’s scales shed their dullness, making way for bright scales that shimmered as embers fanned to life.
Her massive muscles twitched, a ripple running down her spine in a shiver that overtook her.
The cavern air shifted along with her, carrying the scent of smoke and earth where it had once felt stagnant. Then her reptilian eyes fluttered open.
A sob caught in my throat, caught somewhere between relief and awe. My magic still burned through me, but for the first time, I didn’t fear it.
I let it flow.
The weight of the release lingered in my chest, neither heavy nor light. When Willow’s gaze settled on a nest of hatchlings, I understood her silent request.
I nodded to Brenton, giving his hand a gentle squeeze, and he dropped the protective barrier around us. Reluctantly, I followed Willow to the nest, fear wanting me to recoil when she dropped to her knees.
But Solana was awake. She was breathing easier. Healed. Because of me.
Brenton went to his knees with me, his hand and support remaining constant.
When I felt Willow’s binding tug, I reached beyond her to the hatchling. Tentatively, but willingly.
The threads answered, still sharp and boiling, but I didn’t fight against them.
Her binding slipped around the threads, not guiding but letting me find my own way.
Slowly, I let the threads touch the first egg.
Where my magic wanted to surge, I slowed it so that it dipped into the egg, and I felt, more than heard, the tiny hatchling let out a warbling cry.
My eyes snapped to Willow, who nodded in encouragement.
With tender care, I wove my magic through it, sensing its tiny body flutter weakly, its first true movement in days.
Warmth swelled inside me, choking me with something too large to name.
Zaicha’s promise stirred in my mind. Her offer to train me, to help me understand my magic.
Hope. That was what swelled. What grew without restraint. Could I actually be more than a monstrous weapon, after all?