Chapter 68
CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT
SOFIA
Sofia saw her father before they’d even landed, standing among the other dragons and shifters.
The snowy slope was already alight with multiple bonfires, Chalia being the last to arrive.
Shifters and dragons were scattered across the wide slope as far as the darkness allowed her to see.
There were so many of them. And more back in Suvi—more on the farms.
Countless Dragonborn, shifters, and even Dereyans ready to fight.
Micael was gone, but the resistance would live on.
Sofia slipped from Chalia’s back, but waited for Fox to dismount, his movements still a bit stiff. Her father didn’t wait, wrapping her in his arms as she stood. He was warm and smelled faintly of sulfur from Quelia’s Womb. But he also smelled like home.
She closed her eyes, sinking into the warmth of his embrace.
“I’m glad you made it,” he said, the words pressed into the skin of her forehead. “They told me you’d made it, but I needed to see for myself.”
She opened her mouth to reassure him, but all that came out was a broken sob. She gasped for breath, but he just pulled her in tighter until her sobs were muffled into his shirt. He let her cry until she had nothing left, a hand on her back, soothing.
Only when she was quiet did he pull her back, looking her over, his eyes taking in the blood splattered across her face and clothes. “You’re not hurt?”
“Bruised, but nothing else,” Sofia said.
“They told me—” he stopped, eyes catching the slash in her shirt where the ice spear had gone in. “You’ll have to explain to me what happened. They said you brought down fire from the sky.”
Sofia opened her mouth, but floundered. She wasn’t even sure she could explain. How she’d healed. How she’d harnessed the fire. She knew it had something to do with the tether burning brightly between her and Chalia, but she wasn’t sure she’d know how to explain that to anyone else.
“I made something for you,” he said, saving her from her own thoughts. He pulled something small from his pocket, and she squinted in the dim firelight. “Javi mentioned you’d lost yours and had been struggling with your lungs.”
He was holding a small pipe. It was made from a dark wood, and he’d carved a small dragon wrapping around the stem, as if it were about to take flight.
“It’s beautiful,” she said, voice breaking on the words. She took it delicately, as if it might break apart the moment she touched it. She’d never owned much, but after her time in the forest with Fox and the raid of the resistance base, she’d lost what little she had.
“It’s been a while since I carved anything, so it’s a little rough…” he started, but she shook her head.
“It’s perfect. Thank you.” She wrapped him in another hug, her arms holding him tightly against her. She would never tire of hugging him. His own face was shining with tears when she pulled back, and he quickly wiped them away.
“There will be time for that tomorrow,” he said, running a hand through her hair. “Right now is for celebration. And I don’t think you’re mine tonight.”
He looked past her, and she turned to see Fox watching them, his mother at his shoulder looking around the slope with wide eyes.
Sofia pulled them over for introductions, Fox looking almost pained as her father wrapped him in a hug. But when he stepped away, she saw the way his eyes were watering, cheeks gone pink. Someday, he’d get used to being loved. She’d make sure of it.
His mother and her father fell into an uneasy conversation as Javi handed out cups of whisky. They settled down next to the nearest bonfire. The air was already thick with the smell of roast meat and herbs. Tonight was for those who still lived. Tomorrow was for the dead.
Sofia grabbed her cup, taking a swig and savoring the rich burn down her throat.
They ate when the meat was done roasting, spread out across the slopes on furs and blankets. Sofia closed her eyes, savoring the sweetness of the rabbit smothered in a berry sauce. There were roasted nuts, as well, and even some salted greens that tasted of the forest and the rain.
The bonfires across the slope sent sparks rising into the black sky above.
The humans and shifters who’d finished their suppers danced around the fires as others sang.
They didn’t have instruments, but no one seemed to care.
Even the dragons were dancing in their own way, flying above the slope in twirling patterns.
Sofia didn’t need to squint to find Chalia.
She just knew where she was by instinct, swirling around Jobin in an aerial dance as they launched higher into the sky and dove back down again, perfectly aligned in their movements.
Eha was on the ground, Zuni wrapped around her neck tightly.
The two had been inseparable since they’d reunited, and Sofia didn’t doubt it would be awhile before Eha let her son out of her sight.
Other dragons moved around them, occasionally butting heads against Eha, as if to reassure themselves she was real.
Sofia noticed a black shadow off to the left, not quite a part of the festivities.
The black dragon that Harlow had had—Crax—was curled up, eyes watching the others as they danced and celebrated.
Sofia had only briefly spoken to Aurelia about him, but she knew he’d disappeared from the flock over thirty sun cycles ago.
Sofia could only imagine the trauma of being locked away by Harlow for that long.
It would be a long road to recovery for him.
“He needs space tonight,” Chalia said. The dragon hadn’t even broken her dance through the sky.
“He’ll find his way back to the flock—to himself,” Sofia said.
“I hope so,” Chalia said.
Sofia gazed up, taking in the vastness of the night sky.
Tonight wouldn’t be the end for any of them.
She knew grief and the weight it brought to time.
But they’d get through it. A constant flurry of snow fell around them, and Sofia found herself tilting her face back to catch the flakes in her open mouth. They were sweet on her tongue.
Warm fingers brushed her own, and she glanced up at Fox.
He wasn’t looking at the dragons or the fire, but at her.
Their parents were on the other side of him, deep in a conversation she couldn’t hear over the crackling of the fire and the singing.
His hand brushed over hers again before his fingers ran up her forearm, leaving goosebumps in their wake.
She closed her eyes, focusing only on the feel of his touch.
She’d almost lost him.
His chest hadn’t been moving. She’d been ready to die for what she believed in. She’d expected it. She’d never imagined a scenario where he was the one to die. Her chest tightened, her throat suddenly too dry.
She stood, pulling him up with her as she grabbed the fur they’d been sitting on with her other hand.
The snow was trampled down and slick, and she slipped a few times as they walked, Fox catching her each time.
Everywhere he touched sent sparks through her, and she walked faster until they made it to a small cavern farther down the slope.
It was too small to house more than a couple of sleeping pads, so it had never been claimed.
The bonfires and stars beyond let in just enough light to see by as she pushed Fox inside and pressed him against the cavern wall.
His head was bent down from the angle of the stone, but she didn’t care, too busy looking into his eyes, reveling in how alive they looked. He read something on her face because he didn’t speak. He cupped her face with warm hands, soaking her in.
“I almost lost you,” she said, her voice cracking. “I almost—I—”
“You saved us all,” he said, brushing his thumb across her cheek. She realized she was crying as he wiped away a tear.
“You almost died. You should have died, and I—I was the one who killed you.”
He grabbed her hand, pressing it against his chest. “I’m still here.”
She pulled her hand from his. “You weren’t supposed to die. You weren’t supposed to sacrifice yourself like that.”
“But I didn’t die.”
“But you did. You died, Fox.”
“What? Did I take your job?”
She didn’t answer. They both knew that’s exactly what she’d been thinking.
“It doesn’t matter,” he said, his voice going soft. “I made it. We both made it.”
Her throat tightened painfully.
“You called fire from the sky,” he said, examining her hands as if they might spark to life again even now. His fingers traced the veins and calluses along her hand, the barest whisper against her skin. “You are a fucking goddess.”
“And you survived. You survived what killed him.”
Something passed over his face, there and gone in an instant, and then he was smiling. “Even your magic knew you couldn’t kill me. After all those threats.” He cupped her face once more, gently.
She laughed despite herself.
“It knows I’m not done with you yet,” she said, turning her head to nip gently at his thumb as it ran along her cheek.
His pupils went wide, and she bit down harder, taking his thumb into her mouth slowly and running her tongue along it, all while keeping her eyes focused, boring into his.
His breath hitched. She dropped the fur onto the ground, sinking to her knees, still not breaking eye contact.
His hands moved, fingers weaving into her hair, holding her delicately.
She was eye-level with his crotch, and she could see his bulge growing. She ran her lips along the hard ridge of his pants, and his fingers spasmed in her hair, not quite tugging, but tightening. Her scalp tingled at the sensation, and she hummed against him. He let out a soft “fuck” above her.