Chapter 20
Lyra
Lyra stood very still in the kitchen after Mikael’s quiet admission settled between them. The coffee pot hissed softly behind her, and for several long seconds she could do nothing except stare at him.
Not merely a king or the boy who had once watched Dag torment her through years of school hallways while saying nothing at all. He was a dragon, or at least something close enough to the old legends that her mind still struggled to fully accept it.
Mikael’s eyes remained fixed on her carefully now, the intensity in them quieter than before but somehow more dangerous because she could feel how much rested on her next words that would determine whether he trusted her or regretted her learning his secret.
Lyra swallowed softly and wrapped both hands around the warm coffee mug mostly to steady herself.
“I haven’t told anyone,” she said quietly.
Mikael didn’t move.
“I never will either.”
Something subtle shifted in his expression then, not relief exactly but something deeper and more vulnerable than she had ever expected to see from him.
“I grew up hearing stories about the royal bloodlines. The old legends about dragons protecting the kingdom and bonding themselves to kings.” A faint nervous laugh escaped her. “I always thought they were just stories parents told children.”
Mikael’s mouth curved slightly at that. “Most people do.”
Lyra glanced toward him again, unable to stop herself from remembering the impossible heat beneath her hands while she fought to keep him alive or the scales that had surfaced across his skin. None of it felt like fantasy anymore.
It felt terrifyingly real, but somehow she wasn’t afraid of him. That realization startled her almost as much as the dragon itself.
From the living room came Beckett’s loud groan of frustration followed immediately by Malaya laughing.
“This remote is broke.”
“It’s just smarter than you,” Malaya teased.
“That’s rude.”
Lyra smiled before she could stop herself, and Beckett suddenly appeared around the corner clutching a battered picture book against his chest.
“Did you give up the remote?”
He nodded. “It’s too hard. Malaya is fixing it.”
Lyra rumpled his hair. “What can we do for you?”
“Mikael?”
The king knelt down immediately. “What is it?”
Beckett held up the book with a hopeful look on his face. “Will you read to me?”
The softness that entered Mikael’s face nearly made Lyra’s heart burst. Other than herself, she had never seen anyone look at Beckett with that kind of patience before.
“Of course,” Mikael said quietly.
Beckett beamed and grabbed his hand to lead him to the bedroom. “It’s quieter down here.”
Lyra waited a minute before she followed them silently and peeked in the door of the small bedroom, followed by Malaya.
Something warm and painful twisted inside her chest because Beckett looked so impossibly happy snuggled up against Mikael who awkwardly attempted to fit his broad frame onto the tiny mattress without collapsing it entirely.
Malaya snorted from the hallway. “You look ridiculous.”
“Leave,” Mikael muttered without looking up from the book.
Lyra lingered quietly in the doorway afterward while Mikael began reading in a deep calm voice that filled the tiny room with surprising gentleness. Mikael even attempted different voices for the characters.
Badly… very badly… but he tried and Beckett loved every second of it.
By the time the story ended, the little boy was already drifting toward sleep. His small hand still clutched part of Mikael’s sleeve while his breathing slowly evened out beneath the blankets.
Mikael stayed there several extra minutes anyway, just watching him. Something about the sight made Lyra’s chest ache in a way she did not entirely understand.
Eventually Mikael carefully disentangled himself from Beckett without waking him and stepped quietly back into the hallway where Lyra still waited.
“He’s exhausted,” Mikael murmured softly.
“He hasn’t slept properly in days. A little nap won’t hurt him.”
Mikael studied her face for a moment before speaking again. “You haven’t slept much either.”
“I’m fine. Really.”
“Can I ask you a favor? Another one, after saving my life, that is.”
She nodded. “Of course. What do you need me to do?”
“Will you take me to where you found me?”
Lyra blinked slightly. “Now?”
“If you’re willing. Malaya can stay here and make sure Beckett is fine. He’ll probably sleep for a while.”
She hesitated only briefly before nodding. She knew he was still trying to put the pieces together, but she was afraid that seeing where he was found wasn’t going to give him many answers.
The late morning air bit sharply against her cheeks as they stepped outside.
She pointed in the direction they needed to go and they headed through the deep snow, pristine until their feet left prints behind them.
For not the first time, she wished she had the ability to paint so she could capture the pure essence of the forest after a good snow.
For a while neither of them spoke. The quiet between them wasn’t uncomfortable though. Mikael broke the silence first.
“I owe you an apology.”
Lyra glanced toward him with her brows raised. “For what?”
His gaze remained fixed ahead on the snowy trail. “For school. For Dag.”
The old pain rose so unexpectedly that it caught her off guard. Even now, after all the years that had passed. Pain she thought she had left behind long ago.
Mikael exhaled slowly. “I should have stopped him.”
Yes, you should have. The thought came instantly and bitterly.
Lyra shoved her hands deeper into her coat pockets. “You were popular, I wasn’t,” she said quietly. “Dag was your friend, you had his back.”
“But you had no one at your back.”
“That’s because no one wanted to be the next target.” She hated being blunt, but there was no other way to say it.
“That’s not an excuse.”
“No,” she admitted softly. “It isn’t.”
Snow drifted gently around them while silence stretched again.
“There were days I used to dread going to school so badly I would get sick before leaving the house,” Lyra confessed finally, her voice quieter now.
“Dag always knew exactly what to say to make people laugh at me, and eventually everyone else joined in because it was easier than trying to go against him.”
Mikael’s jaw tightened visibly.
“You watched it happen, and honestly…” She swallowed slightly. “That hurt worse sometimes.”
Because at one time, she had carried a crush on him. Despite it all, she had still liked him enough to daydream about things that could never happen.
God, she had liked him so much back then.
Mikael closed his eyes briefly as though the words physically struck him. “I know,” he said hoarsely.
“No, I don’t think you do.” Lyra stared down at the snowy path beneath her boots. “I hated you for a long time.”
“I deserved it.”
“Yes, you did,” she whispered.
The honesty of it hung painfully between them, but strangely, the anger itself no longer burned the way it once had. Time had dulled the sharpest edges.
“And yet,” Mikael murmured after a moment, “you still saved me. You had to know who I was.”
Lyra looked up at him then.
The cold wind stirred dark strands of hair across his forehead, and suddenly he no longer looked like the untouchable king or the boy whose best friend was a bully. He only looked tired.
“I couldn’t leave you there to die,” she said simply.
“Even after everything?”
“Yes, despite it all.”
Mikael stared at her with something almost unreadable in his eyes. “Why?”
Lyra thought about that carefully as they continued walking.
Finally she answered with a catch in her voice. “Because what happened to me never gave me the right to become cruel in return.”
She shrugged faintly afterward. “Maybe being hurt made me more aware of how much small kindnesses matter.” A weak smile touched her mouth. “I know what it feels like when nobody helps.”
Mikael looked away sharply. “That’s why you do so much for people.”
Lyra frowned slightly. “What?”
“The flowers for the elderly woman in the village. Feeding stray animals. Taking care of Beckett.” His gaze returned to her steadily. “You keep choosing kindness anyway.”
Her chest tightened unexpectedly. “No matter what happened to me, doing those things is the right thing to do.”
By then they had reached the edge of the cliffs, and Lyra slowed near the broken treeline before pointing below.
“You were down there,” she said quietly. “Mostly buried in the snow.”
Mikael stared toward the spot in silence.
The wind moved sharply across the mountain edge, carrying the faint scent of pine, and Lyra suddenly remembered the terror she had felt digging out his unconscious body that day. A solid chill ran up her body and made her shudder.
“You dragged me all the way back to your cottage. Alone.”
“I did what I had to do.” She tried to smile. “You are a heavy one, I’ll say that.”
Without warning Mikael turned and pulled her into his arms. The sudden warmth of him stole her breath. Lyra froze instinctively at first before slowly relaxing against his chest while his arms tightened around her with startling intensity.
“Thank you,” he said quietly against her hair as though he still could not fully accept that she had truly dragged him back from death itself.
The raw sincerity in his voice hurt.
“For saving my life,” he murmured. “For protecting my dragon when you didn’t even understand what you were protecting.” His hold tightened slightly. “I don’t know what happens after this, Lyra. I don’t know what the future looks like anymore.”
Neither did she.
“But I will remember your kindness for the rest of my life.”
Emotion rose so suddenly in her chest that it frightened her. Before she could think better of it, before fear or common sense could stop her, Lyra stepped back and cupped his face before she lifted herself onto her toes and kissed him.
Softly this time, not desperate like when he arrived at the cottage. Just a kiss full of honesty. Mikael went completely still beneath her hands for one stunned heartbeat.
Then he kissed her back.