Chapter 2 Rurik #2
“Why would you do that?”
“Because you asked.” Simple. True. The only answer I have.
Her mouth curves. Not quite a smile—nothing that soft, nothing that warm—but something that makes my chest tight and my dragon settle into something that feels dangerously like contentment.
“You’re strange.”
“I’ve been told that too.”
“Selene said you’re the reckless one. The troublemaker. The dragon who can’t sit still for more than five minutes.”
“All accurate.”
“Yet you’ve been sitting outside my door for days.”
“Also accurate.”
“Why?” The question is sharper now. More insistent. “Don’t give me vague answers about instinct and protection. Tell me the truth.”
The truth.
I look at her and something inside me goes still—the restless, reckless, constantly moving parts of me that have never settled for anything suddenly want nothing more than to be exactly where she is.
The truth is that my dragon has been circling her name in my head since the moment we found her, repeating it like a mantra, like a prayer, like the only word that matters in any language.
The truth is that I think she might be mine.
But I can’t say that. Not now. Not when she’s still fragile, still healing, still looking at me with eyes that hold more walls than windows.
“Because when I look at you, I stop wanting to be anywhere else.” The words come out before I can filter them. “That’s never happened to me before. Three hundred fifty years, and I’ve never wanted to stay in one place until you.”
Her breath catches. Just a fraction. Just enough to tell me the words landed.
“That’s—“
“Terrifying? Insane? Both?” I force a grin. The one that usually deflects. The one that usually works. “Trust me, I’m aware. If you want me to leave—“
“No.” The word comes out sharp. Almost startled. “I mean—“ She stops. Visibly collects herself. “You can stay. For now. In a strictly guardian capacity.”
“Strictly guardian. Got it.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.” I cross my arms over my chest. Mirror her defensive posture. “Rest. Then training. You set the boundaries, I’ll respect them. Deal?”
She considers. That brilliant, clinical mind calculating variables, assessing risks, weighing costs against benefits.
“Deal.” Her hand extends. Formal. Professional. Completely at odds with the spark that jumps between us when our palms connect.
Her skin is cool against mine. Pale from weeks without sunlight. But there’s strength in her grip—more than I expected. More than she probably realizes.
“I should let you rest.” I force myself to release her hand. Step back. Put distance between us before I do something stupid like reach for her again. “The healers will want to check on you.”
“Rurik.” My name on her lips stops me at the door. “Thank you. For staying. For—“ She gestures vaguely. “All of it.”
“Thank me after I’ve actually taught you something.” I flash her a grin. “My methods are unconventional. Drayke calls them reckless. Auren calls them insane. You might hate me before this is over.”
“I might hate you anyway.”
“Noted.”
I close the door behind me and lean against the opposite wall. My heart is hammering. My dragon is practically purring.
Mate. She spoke to us. She made a deal with us.
“Not yet,” I mutter under my breath. “Patience.”
The word tastes foreign on my tongue. Three centuries of never waiting for anything, and now I’m standing in a hallway teaching myself to be still.
For her.
Gods help us both.
The war room feels smaller with all four brothers inside.
Drayke presides at the head of the table, and even seated, he commands the room.
Centuries of leading the Brotherhood have carved that authority into his posture—the way he listens, the way he waits, the way his silence carries more weight than other men’s speeches.
When he finally speaks, everyone stops to hear it.
Selene stands at his side. Their bond has changed things—softened his edges, sharpened hers. She’s no longer the new Fire-Bringer Drayke rescued eight weeks ago. She’s becoming something else. Something that makes even Auren pay attention when she speaks.
“The Fire-Bringer is awake and coherent.” Drayke’s voice fills the chamber. “The immediate physical threats have been addressed. Now we discuss what comes next.”
“What comes next is obvious.” Auren steps forward, all cold precision and tactical logic.
His golden scales catch the torchlight, ancient and calculating.
“We can’t keep her here indefinitely. She’s a liability—a beacon pointing directly to our location.
Every moment she remains, Valdris grows closer to finding us. ”
“She has nowhere else to go.” Selene’s voice cuts through the clinical assessment. “Her entire life has been stripped away. Family, career, home—all of it gone. We can’t just dump her somewhere and hope for the best.”
“We can relocate her. Establish a safe house. Assign rotating protection—“
“And what happens when Valdris’s forces track her down?” I hear myself interrupting. Feel everyone’s attention swing toward me. “A safe house won’t hold against what’s coming. Rotating guards means gaps in coverage. The only way to truly protect her is to keep her close.”
“You mean keep her close to you.” Auren’s gaze could freeze fire. “Your objectivity is compromised, Rurik. Has been since we brought her in.”
“My objectivity has nothing to do with it.” The lie tastes bitter. “She’s a Fire-Bringer. The first new awakening since Selene. Her power could be—“
“Her power is dormant.” Auren cuts me off. “Suppressed by trauma and blood loss. Even if she could access it, she has no training, no control. She’s more likely to burn down the fortress than defend it.”
“Then we train her.”
“With what resources? We’re already stretched thin. The rogues are regrouping, Valdris is stirring, and you want us to divert attention to training a traumatized human who might never—“
“Enough.” Drayke’s command silences us both.
His gaze sweeps the table—Auren rigid with disapproval, me practically vibrating with barely leashed energy, Zyphon lurking in shadows, watching everything with those unsettling violet-cracked depths.
“We’re not here to debate whether to protect her. We’re here to decide how.”
“She wants to learn to fight so she can defend herself.” The words come out before I can stop them. “She asked me to train her.”
“Defend herself?” Auren’s voice could freeze fire. “She’s been conscious. The trauma alone—“
“Doesn’t make her incapable.” Selene steps forward, and there’s steel in her voice. Fire in her storm-gray glare. “I was a wreck when Drayke found me. Couldn’t control my flames, couldn’t think straight, couldn’t do anything except react. But I learned. I got stronger. She can too.”
“Your situation was different.”
“Was it?” Selene’s eyebrow arches. “Kidnapped, tortured, used for my blood? Sounds pretty similar to me. The only difference is timing.” Her chin lifts. “And maybe the fact that someone believed I could survive instead of writing me off as a liability.”
Auren’s jaw tightens. Even Drayke shifts slightly—an acknowledgment, maybe, or a warning to his mate.
“She’s not a weapon to be contained.” My voice rises. Can’t help it. “She’s a person. A person who was kidnapped, tortured, and drained for three weeks by psychopaths trying to wake an ancient monster. And your response is to treat her like a problem to be solved?”
“My response is to ensure our security.” Auren doesn’t back down. Never does. “Sentiment won’t protect this fortress when Valdris’s army arrives.”
“Neither will abandoning someone who needs us.” I shove back from the table. My chair screeches against stone. “She’s under my protection. End of discussion.”
“Your protection?” Auren’s tone could cut glass. “Since when does one brother’s infatuation override strategic necessity?”
“Since that brother’s infatuation might be the only thing keeping her alive.” Selene’s voice cuts through our escalating tension. “Both of you, sit down and stop flexing. You’re not helping.”
I blink. Turn toward her. She’s standing with her arms crossed, fire dancing in her eyes, looking for all the world like a queen about to command her court.
“Auren.” She pins him with a look that makes even the coldest brother pause. “Your tactical concerns are valid. No one’s dismissing them. But you’re thinking about this like a military problem when it’s actually a personal one.”
“Personal concerns have no place in—“
“Oh, shut up.” The words come out with affection despite the edge. “You’re not a machine, no matter how hard you pretend. And neither is she.”
Auren’s mouth snaps closed. Progress.
“Here’s what I know from experience,” Selene continues.
“Aisling needs to feel in control of something. Anything. Right now, her whole life has been stripped away. Her home, her sense of safety—all gone. If you put her in a box and tell her it’s for her own good, she’ll either break trying to escape or break when she can’t.
” She looks down. “I almost did. Drayke’s restraint is the only reason I didn’t burn down this entire fortress in my first week. ”
“Restraint.” Drayke’s mouth curves slightly. “That’s what we’re calling it.”
“Selective patience.” Selene waves a dismissive hand. “The point is she needs agency. Training gives her that. Something to focus on besides the nightmare waiting to find her.”
“And the tactical concerns?” Auren’s voice has thawed slightly. Not warm—never warm—but less frozen.
“Are valid.” Selene acknowledges with a nod. “But Zyphon might have a solution for those.”
All heads turn to the shadows where our most dangerous brother lurks.
Zyphon steps forward, and the darkness clings to him, reluctant to release its grip. Violet light pulses through the cracks in his obsidian scales—manifestation of the shadows that have been consuming him slowly for three hundred years.