Chapter 19 #2
Garrick claps him on the back, grinning like this is the best thing he’s seen all week. “Bold move, Warlord.”
Jarek just shakes his head, somewhere between exasperated and amused. “That’ll make council news tomorrow. But hey, that’s their problem.” Jarek places a strong hand on the back of Thane’s head and pulls him in, then releases him with a laugh. “It’s about damn time, brother.”
And Rian—ever steady—nods once with quiet approval, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips.
The realization slams into me—they all knew. The entire Phoenix Ring had seen what I thought we’d kept hidden. Heat rushes through me.
Thane doesn’t acknowledge any of it. He’s already back in control. Already issuing orders. Like kissing me was just—handled. Like he hadn’t just staked his claim in front of the entire godsdamn outpost.
Like he hadn’t just changed everything.
My mind spins. And just when I think I might—might—get my bearings—
“Hhhkk—” Lyra lets out a strangled wheeze.
I whip around, glaring at her before she can even open her mouth. “Don’t. Say. A word.”
Her grin only widens, eyes bright with pure, unfiltered delight. “I don’t have to. That was plenty loud all on its own.”
“It appears your Fire Warlord does not like to share.” Calryx purrs the words into my mind, humming with delight.
I forgot she can feel everything I feel now that we’re bonded, even though she is nowhere in sight. Godsdammit. I groan, pressing both hands to my flaming face. I am never going to survive this day.
And that’s when I remember—Kieran.
My breath catches, guilt tightening in my chest. I turn—he’s still standing there, hands loose at his sides, his expression—completely unreadable.
Shit.
“Kieran, I—”
He exhales. When his eyes meet mine, there’s no anger—just something softer. Knowing.
His mouth quirks, that familiar smirk playing at the edge of his lips. “Looks like you fell after all.”
The words hit deeper than I expect—quiet and exact. They settle in my ribs like truth.
But there’s no bitterness in his voice. Just acceptance. And maybe—just maybe—a glint of something unfinished.
He dips his head—gracious as ever—then steps past me, already moving on.
I just stand there.
Breathless. Spinning. Trying to make sense of what the hell just happened.
Somewhere behind me, Thane’s voice cuts through—calm, measured, controlled. Like he hadn’t just kissed me senseless.
Like he hadn’t just wrecked my entire world and gone right back to war plans.
And that’s when I hear it—yelling. Laughing. The unmistakable sound of boots pounding across stone. I turn just in time to see Nessa, Darius, Fenric, and Taila barreling toward us—faces lit, eyes wide, entirely too delighted.
Oh no. No no no. They saw everything.
And that’s when Lyra steps beside me. Smug. Unhurried. Already pulling a pouch from her belt.
“Alright, pay up,” she announces, snapping her fingers.
Darius groans. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Nope. Kiss before the end of the week. Honestly, I was generous.” She holds out her hand—and one by one, they cough up coin.
Taila mutters something under her breath and passes a few silvers. Nessa shrugs and forks over a gold. Fenric groans the loudest and drops his coin in with a dramatic flourish.
“I really thought it would be her that snapped first.”
Lyra snorts. “She did kiss him first, genius.”
“Yeah, but he went full warlord about it,” Darius says, crossing his arms. “That counts for extra.”
Lyra divvies up coin with the speed of a black-market dealer. “Half to me. Quarter to Nessa—she guessed the location would be the outpost. And Taila gets the rest for calling the ‘in front of everyone’ part. Nicely done.”
“Thanks,” Taila beams. “I pay attention to tension.”
I stand there, stunned, my mouth open, my face burning. “You were all betting on this?”
Lyra just grins. “What else were we supposed to do? It was unbearable.”
The days blur into sweat, sore muscles, and the constant weight of expectation. Training begins at dawn. Ends when we can barely stand.
The outpost sits below a small mountain range, a forward stronghold for warriors preparing for battle. No grandeur. No excess.
The air is sharp, laced with the scent of damp earth, sweat, and the lingering burn of fire magics from daily training.
There are few breaks. Only the cycle of training. And for the first time—I thrive in it.
Each day is merciless and my entire body aches as I climb into bed each night. Magics with Valen in the mornings. Combat drills with Thane, Garrick, or Jarek in the afternoons. Squadron formation training after that.
I’m now training with my friends. Then flight lessons with Calryx—my favorite part of the day. Being with her is so natural and easy. And fun.
I’m learning to fight from a dragon’s back—performing aerial moves that once felt impossible.
It’s chaos. It’s exhausting. It’s bananas.
There’s no time to dwell on the kiss. No time to overthink the way his hands gripped me, the way his mouth moved against mine like he’d been starving for it.
Because the moment we return, training consumes my world. Like we’re running out of time.
The goal isn’t just control anymore—it’s mastery. Elemental Merging.
I can’t just call fire, then shift to air. I have to wield them all at once. Fire and air can create—or destroy. Water and earth offer balance—or collapse.
Balance. Adaptation. Power.
Aerial combat is an entirely new mindset. Not just dexterity and strength—but intuition. Connection. Timing.
Flying with Calryx is one thing. Fighting from her back? Something else entirely. I have to dodge, weave, strike—all while making sure I don’t get thrown from the sky.
I’m deeply grateful for the magical locks that secure me to the saddle—now fastened to the base of her neck for flight. Without them, I’d already be a smear on the canyon floor.
Most days, it’s just me, Thane, and Xaroth. Soon, other dragon riders will be part of aerial battle practice.
Bonded or not, we’re still learning. I have to anticipate her—and she, me. We have to become one.
And through it all?
Thane is always there. Sparring with me. Watching me. Pushing me.
The difference is—there’s no restraint anymore. He smiles more. Touches more. Lingers more. And it’s unsettling. Because I’ve seen Thane in full control. I’ve seen the Warlord—calm, precise, calculating.
But this? This is different. Now, he wants me to see it.
In training, he gets too close—his breath warm against my skin as he corrects my stance.
“Again,” he murmurs, fingers brushing my waist, the touch deliberate.
During sparring, every time I think I’ve found an opening—he’s already there. Knocking me off balance, but catching my wrist before I can fall. Holding just a moment too long before letting go.
Outside of training, there is no more avoiding each other. No more distance.
I reach for a blade—his hand’s already there.
Turn a corner—he’s beside me.
Wake in the morning—he’s already watching.
He still taunts me. But now? It’s a challenge.
And it’s making my insides melt.
“You’re hesitating,” he purrs into my ear after I miss a strike. “Still thinking too much?”
“Your balance is off.” A hand slowly skims over my hip, adjusting my stance. “Focus.”
“You think I’m going to go easy on you now that we kissed?” A smirk tugs at his lips. “Not a chance.”
And gods help me—are we talking about combat training or sex? Because I like it.
So I push back.
“You’re awfully handsy today, Fire Warlord,” I say as he stands behind me, body flush to mine, his foot nudging mine wider.
“Are you watching my stance, or something else?” I throw over my shoulder when I catch his eyes lingering.
When he kneels to tighten the straps at my thighs, my pulse stutters. “Touch me like that again and I’ll start thinking this isn’t just training.”
I’m in the middle of sharpening my blade when Lyra drops down beside me with a dramatic sigh.
I don’t look up. “That’s a heavy sigh.”
Lyra hums. “Yeah, I’m deeply concerned about something.”
I pause, glancing at her. “Should I be worried?”
She leans in slightly, voice low and conspiratorial. “Honestly, the eye-fucking happening between you two is getting out of control.”
A beat.
“We’re placing bets again.” She winks.
I nearly slice my hand. “Lyra!”
“No, listen. You two have been staring at each other like you’re seconds away from tearing clothes off—for days. Days, Amara.” She leans in, eyes wide with genuine concern. “What’s the hold-up, woman? Please tell me he’s capable—because all that warlord energy has to be worth something.”
I groan and press my hand to my forehead.
“He’s been leaving every afternoon. Doesn’t get back until after midnight.”
Lyra blinks. “What?”
I exhale, setting my blade down. “He has to go back to the capital. Council meetings. The attacks on the borders are getting worse.”
She stares at me. “Are you telling me the only reason you two haven’t thrown yourselves at each other is because of council meetings?”
I gesture vaguely. “War. Strategy. Border attacks. Duty. That kind of thing.”
She gives me a deeply unimpressed look. “Fine. I’ll be patient. But just so we’re clear—if you two don’t handle this soon, I’m staging an intervention.”
The pattern has been the same for days.
Train until we can’t stand.
Thane leaves.
I stew in frustration.
Repeat.
Later, that afternoon, I’m sitting on the stone ledge just outside the outpost, rolling the stiffness from my shoulders, trying not to think about how badly I want a moment alone with him.
I sense him before I see him.
I turn—he’s already there.
Not dusted with exhaustion. Not distracted by duty.
Just here. Early.
He meets my gaze and says just three words: “Come with me.”
I blink. “What?”
His gaze flicks to the dragons’ clearing on the mountainside, where I know Calryx stays now that she’s at the outpost with me. “Call your dragon. Let’s fly.”
I straighten slightly, pulse kicking up. “Where?”
Thane tilts his head, his smirk slow, easy. “Do you always ask this many questions?”