Chapter 13 Aisling #3
Because you’re mine. Because the thought of her touching you made my dragon want to tear down mountains. Because in three weeks, you’ve somehow become essential in a way I can’t explain without sounding completely unhinged.
“You’re pack.” The words come out rougher than I intend. “You’re under my protection. My—“ I stop. Start again. “I don’t let people hurt what matters to me.”
“What matters to you.” She echoes the phrase, and I can’t tell if it bothers her or not. Her expression is too guarded. “Valdris said I was hers. Called me her property.”
“It’s not the same.”
“No?”
“She meant ownership. Possession.” I lean forward, bracing my elbows on my knees.
The position puts me closer to her, close enough to catch the faint scent of smoke and wildflowers that clings to her skin.
Close enough to see the way her breath catches.
“I told you last night. Not ownership. Just..
. belonging. You belong with us. With the Brotherhood. With—“
With me.
The words hang unspoken. I watch her process them—watch the way her gaze drops to my mouth for just a second before snapping back to my eyes.
“She’ll use it against you.” Aisling’s voice drops. “The brand. If you stay close to me, she’ll find a way to hurt you through me. Track you. Target you. Everything she said about you being reckless, burning out before you matter—“
“I don’t care what she said about me.”
“You should.” She leans forward too, unconsciously mirroring my posture. The movement brings us closer. “She’s cruel in ways we can’t fathom. Patient. If she decides to use me as a weapon against you—“
“Then we’ll deal with it.” I reach out, slowly enough that she can pull away if she wants. My fingers close around her unbranded hand, and the contact sends heat racing up my arm. Her skin is soft. Warm. Alive. “Together. That’s the deal.”
“What deal? I don’t remember agreeing to any deal.”
“The deal where you stop trying to push people away and let them help you instead.” I trace my thumb across her knuckles, and her breath stutters. “Selene told me about that tendency. Said you’ve been doing it since you woke up in the infirmary.”
“Selene talks too much.”
“Selene cares. Same thing.” I continue the slow stroke of my thumb, watching the way her pupils dilate slightly.
“Look. I know you’re used to handling everything yourself.
Organizing everything into neat categories until you feel steady.
But this—“ I nod toward her wrist, toward the brand glowing beneath her sleeve. “—this isn’t something you can organize away. This is war. And in war, you need allies.”
“Is that what you are? An ally?”
The question is loaded. We both know it.
“I’m whatever you need me to be.” The words come out low. Honest. “Ally. Guardian. Pain in your ass who won’t leave you alone no matter how many lists you make.” I hold her gaze. “Whatever gets you through this.”
Her grip tightens on my hand. For a moment, I think she’s going to pull away—retreat behind those defenses she builds so well.
Instead, she shifts forward on the bed. Closes the distance between us until her knees brush mine.
“You’re warm,” she says quietly. “Dragon heat. It’s...” She trails off, swallowing hard. “When she’s loud in my head, everything feels cold. But you’re warm.”
“Then stay close to me. Let me be your furnace.”
Her laugh is startled, broken. “That’s a terrible line.”
“I know. I’m better at fighting than flirting.” But I’m smiling too, and something in the tightness around her eyes eases.
She leans forward and rests her forehead against mine.
The contact jolts through me like lightning. Her breath ghosts across my lips. Her scent fills my lungs. I feel the flutter of her pulse where our temples touch, can feel the heat of her skin seeping into mine.
Kiss her. Claim her mouth. Make her forget that creature’s voice.
I hold still. This isn’t about what I want. It’s about what she needs.
“Stay.” The word is barely a whisper against my mouth. “Tonight. I don’t—“ Her voice breaks. “She’s louder when I’m alone.”
“Then you won’t be alone.”
I pull back just enough to see her face. The exhaustion there, the fear, the stubborn determination that refuses to break no matter how hard the world pushes. And underneath all of it—barely visible, carefully hidden—something that looks a lot like want.
Mine. My dragon rumbles. Ours. Protect.
But it’s not just the dragon anymore. It’s me. All of me.
“Whatever you need,” I tell her. “However long it takes. I’m not going anywhere.”
The brand on her wrist flares.
Somewhere in the depths of that mountain, Valdris watches through her stolen window.
But here, in this infirmary, with Aisling’s hand in mine and her breath warm on my skin—that creature doesn’t seem quite as invincible.
We’ll find a way to sever that link. To burn out the brand or override it with something stronger.
And if we can’t...
Then I’ll spend whatever time we have making sure Aisling knows she’s not alone. That someone sees her—not as a weapon, not as a tool, not as a means to an end.
Just her.
The woman who organizes chaos to survive it. Who keeps her guard high because the world keeps proving it’s necessary. Who looked a primordial dragon queen in the face and refused to bow.
The woman whose touch makes my blood sing and my dragon purr with satisfaction.
Mine to stand beside. Mine to fight for.
Valdris can watch all she wants.
She’s not getting her back.
AISLING
He kicks off his boots without ceremony. Climbs onto the narrow infirmary bed beside me, careful to leave space even as his warmth bleeds across the gap.
“This bed is terrible,” he mutters. “How do humans sleep on these things?”
“We don’t have wings to cushion us.”
“Tragic.” But he’s settling in, adjusting until he’s lying on his side facing me. The position puts his face inches from mine. His eyes catch the low light, bright and fierce. “Comfortable?”
No. Yes. Both at once. Having him this close makes it hard to think—his scent surrounding me, his heat soaking into my bones, chasing away the cold that Valdris left behind.
“You don’t have to do this.” The protest is half-hearted at best. “Stay, I mean. I know you have duties. Patrols. Whatever it is Guardian dragons do.”
“My duty right now is making sure you sleep.” His hand finds mine between us, fingers threading through mine like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Everything else can wait.”
“Drayke won’t like that.”
“Drayke can take it up with my dragon.” A flash of teeth—that wild grin that makes my stomach flip. “He’s feeling particularly stubborn tonight.”
“Just tonight?”
“Fine. Most nights. All nights.” His thumb traces circles on the back of my hand. “You bring it out in me.”
I should argue. Should point out that this is a terrible idea, that getting attached to a three-hundred-year-old dragon with commitment issues and a death wish is the opposite of smart.
But his touch grounds me in a way nothing else has. The steady rhythm of his breathing. The solid weight of his body beside mine. The warmth that seeps through every point of contact, burning away the cold residue of Valdris’s intrusion.
“She said you’d burn out,” I find myself saying. “Before you ever matter.”
“She’s wrong.” No hesitation. No doubt.
“How do you know?”
“Because I’ve already found something worth not burning out for.”
The words hang between us. Heavy. Significant.
I should look away. Should break the intensity building in the scant inches separating us. Should do anything except lie here watching his eyes darken with something that looks dangerously close to what I’m feeling.
“Rurik—“
“You don’t have to say anything.” His voice drops to barely a murmur.
“I know this is bad timing. I know you have bigger things to worry about than whatever this is.
But I need you to know—“ He swallows hard, and I watch his throat work.
“You matter. To me. To all of us, but especially to me. And I will burn down anyone who tries to take you away.”
Anyone who tries to take you away.
Not ownership. Not possession.
Protection. Devotion. Something that feels like the start of something more.
“I’m not good at this,” I admit. “Letting people in. Trusting that they’ll stay.”
“I know.” His thumb continues its slow circles on my hand. “Neither am I, actually. Ask my brothers—they’ll tell you I’ve spent three centuries keeping everyone at arm’s length.” I pause. “You’re the first person who’s made me want to close the distance.”
My heart stutters.
“That’s—“ I stop. Try again. “That’s a lot.”
“Too much?”
I consider the question. Consider him—this wild, reckless, impossible dragon who’s been tearing down my carefully constructed defenses since the day he crashed into my infirmary room with an armload of stolen books.
“No,” I hear myself say. “Not too much.”
Something shifts in his expression. Relief, maybe. Or something deeper.
He doesn’t kiss me. Doesn’t push for more. Just lifts our joined hands to his mouth and presses his lips to my knuckles—a gesture so tender, it makes my chest ache.
“Sleep,” he murmurs against my skin. “I’ll be here.”
I close my eyes. His warmth surrounds me, his heartbeat a steady rhythm I can feel through our joined hands.
Valdris whispers at the edges of my mind. Little flame. You can’t escape me.
But with Rurik beside me, his fire answering mine in the darkness, her voice seems distant. Uncertain.
Less like a promise and more like a prayer she’s not sure will be answered.
I fall asleep to the sound of his breathing and the warmth of his hand in mine.
And when I wake in the dawn, he’s still there.
Holding on. Warm.