Chapter 11
DARIAL
As dawn breaks, Ronyn’s weight shifts on the furs. We agreed to keep watch in shifts: Ronyn first, me second and Kelan last. Ronyn’s wings unfurl silently as he takes to the sky. One moment he is there, and the next he is gone, his presence turning distant in our minds.
Warmth presses against my chest, soft and achingly sweet.
Aura is curled into me, her face tucked below my chin as though she found the hollow there in the night and claimed it without conscious thought.
Her breath skims my skin, each exhale a quiet proof that despite her claim to need separation, her body chose closeness to us while she slept.
The realization sends a deep, contented hum through my dragon, the great beast in me uncurling and settling like a cat before a fire. He is… pleased. Peaceful in a way I haven't experienced in centuries.
Behind her, Kelan lies close, one arm anchored around her middle. His heat is a barrier against the lingering coldness of stone and dawn.
I move only slightly to relieve the pressure on my shoulder, trying hard not to disturb her.
Kelan stirs awake.
He blinks once, then glances at the woman cradled between us. The tension he carries so often loosens a fraction, and he lets out a long, quiet sigh of contentment.
In our minds, his tone is low and warm.
She says she will leave, he sends, a thread of amusement woven into the statement. But her body wants something else.
I smile, though my chest aches with the truth of it.
She needs our shelter as much as we need her presence, I reply. She’s pulling away because she’s learned that trust leads to betrayal.
From high above Blackwood, Ronyn’s voice cuts in, sharp and focused. We keep her close. She fears trusting us, not our presence. We need to prove she’s safe with us.
Kelan’s agreement is immediate. Always.
For a moment, there is only the calm rhythm of Aura’s breathing and the slow brightening of the cave as the sun’s early rays creep closer.
Then Ronyn’s presence flares again, sudden and alert. There is movement on the horizon.
My dragon stiffens.
What do you see? Kelan demands.
There’s a brief pause.
Wings, Ronyn replies. Bronze. Silver. Dragons.
The word settles inside my bones like frost. There are others who have been enticed by her magic.
Kelan’s arm tightens imperceptibly around Aura, though she doesn’t stir. Return. Now, he barks.
Ronyn doesn’t argue.
I sit up slowly, easing Aura with me so she doesn’t wake. Her eyebrows furrow faintly, a soft sound leaving her throat, and instinct screams at me to guard her from whatever follows.
Kelan meets my gaze across her sleeping form.
We can’t let her magic pulse again, he says. Others are close enough to follow it straight to her.
My stomach twists. If we seal it… I begin.
She won’t be able to access it. Even in thought, Kelan is grave. She may not forgive us.
I observe the dark swipes that still linger below her eyes. Despite a peaceful sleep, exhaustion remains engraved. She fears her magic. It has only ever brought her pain, and yet it is part of her. A part that helped her survive.
She won’t forgive us, I send quietly. The magic is her safety net, fear or not.
Kelan’s jaw tightens. She’ll be alive to hate us.
Ronyn lands moments later, the rush of his return stirring the cave air. He shifts quickly, eyes already burning with restrained fury.
“They’re circling wider,” he says aloud. “Testing the territory.”
“Then we act now,” Kelan replies.
I swallow hard and nod.
Together, we move with care. Kelan anchors Aura physically with one hand over her heart. Ronyn braces her from the other side, supporting her body. I take her hands in mine, detecting the dim echo of her magic. Like blossoms shifting in the summer breeze, it is beautiful.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, though she cannot hear me.
We guide her power inward, folding it away, deeper, and deeper, into a vault she won’t be able to reach. The magic resists at first, flaring weakly, then settles as our combined power swamps it completely.
This is what we were made for. This is our purpose.
Every time we have suppressed magic, it has seemed like a victory.
We have celebrated, relieved to fulfil our role to the goddess.
This time, as the air stills and Aura sighs calmly in her sleep, her body relaxing as though a great burden has been lifted from her, I draw back slowly, my chest tight.
She’ll wake powerless, I think.
It is how it is supposed to be, Kelan answers.
I look at Aura once more, at the woman who trusted us enough to sleep between us, who searched for our protection at her most vulnerable, and I know with absolute certainty that tears at my heart that this choice will destroy the fragile trust she granted us. This choice will haunt us.
But it was never a choice if it was the only thing that would keep her alive.
We’ll bear the burden of her anger and betrayal together, hoping that Aura will understand. We’ve shackled the only thing she’s ever been able to rely on, so we can protect her from a threat she can’t yet comprehend.