Chapter 11
ELEVEN
TAMSIN
Four days after the attack, the dragons conspire against us.
“You’re being summoned.” Selene appears at my door with a grin that suggests mischief. “Leave your weapons. Bring nothing practical.”
“Summoned where?”
“It’s a surprise.” She grabs my hand and pulls me into the corridor before I can protest. “Our mates have decided we need ‘stress relief.’ Apparently watching us fight shadow creatures made them realize we might benefit from something other than battle strategy and wound care.”
“That sounds ominous.”
“It sounds amazing.” She practically bounces as we walk. “Drayke’s been secretive for two days. Rurik nearly exploded trying to keep whatever it is quiet—you know how he is with secrets. Even Zyphon looked almost pleased when I asked what was happening, which for him is basically jumping for joy.”
We collect Aisling from the infirmary—she puts up token resistance about patients needing her, but Selene isn’t taking no for an answer—and Nasyra from the Fire-Bringer quarters.
The four of us follow Selene through corridors I haven’t explored, descending deeper into the fortress until the stone walls give way to something unexpected.
Hot springs.
The chamber opens into a natural cavern, steam rising from pools carved into the rock over centuries of use.
Enchanted lights float near the ceiling, casting soft golden illumination that makes the stone walls gleam.
The air is warm and humid, scented with minerals and something floral I can’t identify.
Someone—multiple someones, clearly—has transformed the space.
Cushions and blankets line the pool’s edges in colors that complement each other, arranged with a precision that speaks of careful thought.
A low stone table overflows with platters of food: exotic fruits I don’t recognize, aged cheeses, pastries still warm from the ovens, and several bottles of wine.
Baskets sit at intervals around the pools, filled with oils, soaps, soft cloths, and what looks like an entire apothecary’s worth of beauty supplies.
“The fortress has hot springs?” Aisling’s clinical detachment cracks into genuine surprise. “I’ve been here for months. Nobody mentioned hot springs. The therapeutic applications alone—”
“The brothers keep them private.” Selene is already stripping off her outer layers.
“Dragon thing. The heat helps with their shifted forms, apparently. But Drayke said we’ve earned access.
” She waves at the elaborate setup. “This took coordination. I’m impressed they managed to work together without setting anything on fire. ”
“Who did what?” Nasyra examines one of the oil baskets with obvious curiosity.
“Rurik handled food.” Selene ticks off on her fingers. “He spent hours in the kitchens driving the cook insane. Demanded everything be perfect, then ate half a platter of tarts before anyone could stop him.”
“That tracks.” Aisling’s mouth twitches.
“Zyphon did the lighting. Apparently shadow magic can also manipulate light when he’s not using it to terrify people.
Who knew?” Selene gestures at the floating orbs.
“Drayke coordinated and provided the space. He also personally threatened any dragon who might disturb us with creative dismemberment.”
“And Auren?” The question escapes before I can stop it.
Three pairs of eyes turn to me with varying degrees of amusement.
“Auren handled security.” Selene’s grin turns knowing. “Made sure no one would disturb us, reinforced the wards, set up a perimeter. Perfectly reasonable ice dragon behavior.” She pauses for effect. “He also personally tested the water temperature. Multiple times. For safety reasons, he said.”
“Safety reasons.” Nasyra’s dry tone carries clear skepticism.
“That’s what he claimed. With a completely straight face. While adjusting the cushions for, and I quote, ‘optimal ergonomic support.’”
“He selected the oils too.” Aisling holds up a bottle, examining the label.
“These are high quality. Imported. Someone researched what would be best for human muscle recovery and skin care.” She sets it down with raised eyebrows.
“That’s not the behavior of someone who just wanted to check security. ”
Something warm blooms in my chest. The image of Auren—cold, controlled, precise Auren—researching massage oils and testing water temperature and arranging cushions is so unexpected, it makes me smile before I can stop myself.
“Well.” Aisling begins unlacing her boots with newfound enthusiasm. “I suppose my patients can survive without me for a few hours. The mineral content in this water looks promising.”
We descend into the pools, and I understand immediately why the brothers keep this place private.
The heat seeps into muscles I didn’t realize were tight, dissolving tension that’s been building since I fled Valdoria.
The water is silky against my skin, mineral-rich and soothing.
Steam curls around us in gentle tendrils.
For the first time in ages, I feel something other than fear and grief and the constant pressure of survival.
I feel relaxed.
The wine flows freely. So does the conversation.
We’ve migrated to the cushions by the pool’s edge, wrapped in soft robes someone thoughtfully provided, passing around the oils and taking turns working knots out of each other’s shoulders.
The food has been thoroughly demolished—apparently fighting for your life builds an appetite—and we’re well into our second bottle of wine.
“This is what I miss.” Aisling’s voice is soft, unguarded in a way I’ve never heard from her.
“Before everything. I used to have spa days with my friends back in Cork. We’d get pedicures and drink too much prosecco and talk about nothing important.
” She stares at her wine. “I didn’t think I’d ever feel normal again. ”
“You’re not normal.” Selene bumps her shoulder gently. “None of us are. We’re Fire-Bringers who fell in love with dragons and fight shadow magic for fun. Normal is overrated.”
“Normal was going to be my whole life.” Aisling laughs, but there’s something real beneath it. “Veterinary practice. Nice apartment. Maybe a cat. I had a five-year plan. A ten-year plan. A retirement strategy.”
“What happened to the cat?”
“Never got one. Kept saying I was too busy.” She shakes her head.
“Now I’m mated to a dragon who brings home injured creatures every other week.
Last month, it was a three-legged fox. Before that, a hawk with a broken wing.
He says they ‘needed help.’” Her expression softens despite her exasperated tone.
“We have seven permanent residents in what was supposed to be a storage room.”
“Rurik runs an animal sanctuary?” I can’t quite picture the chaotic, fire-touched dragon I’ve seen gently nursing wounded creatures.
“He thinks I don’t know. Sneaks them in at night, so I ‘accidentally’ discover them.” Aisling’s smile is fond. “The first time, I was furious. Now I just make sure he’s using proper wound care techniques.”
“So.” Selene tops off everyone’s glasses.
“Childhood dreams. I’ll go first—what did little Selene want to be when she grew up?
” She grins, clearly enjoying the spotlight.
“A pirate. I wanted to sail the seas, find treasure, answer to no one. I had a wooden sword and everything. Used to make my grandmother walk the plank off her porch.”
“That tracks perfectly.” Aisling snorts. “I wanted to be a princess.”
“You?” Selene nearly chokes on her wine. “Miss ‘I don’t need anyone’s help, I have seventeen backup plans’?”
“I was six.” Aisling’s cheeks flush pink. “I had a plastic tiara. I wore it everywhere—to school, to the grocery store, to bed. My parents were mortified when I insisted on wearing it to my grandmother’s funeral because ‘princesses always look their best.’”
The image is so at odds with the sharp, practical woman beside me that I laugh—a real laugh, unstrained and surprised out of me. “What happened to the tiara?”
“Lost it in a move when I was twelve. Cried for days. Then decided princesses were impractical and I was going to be a surgeon instead.” She takes a long drink. “Much more sensible. Also, my parents hated the idea, which was a bonus.”
“Nasyra?” Selene prompts.
Nasyra’s mismatched eyes go distant, focusing on something five centuries away.
“I wanted to be a scholar. Spend my life in libraries debating theory, writing treatises about the nature of magic, having long arguments about the proper interpretation of ancient texts.” Her mouth curves in a bittersweet smile.
“Instead I became a noble’s daughter trained for political marriage.
My value was my bloodline and my womb, not my mind. ”
“And then?” Selene’s voice is gentle.
“Then I fell in love with a dragon, died, and came back as a weapon.” She shrugs, but there’s old pain beneath the casual gesture. “Life rarely follows the plan. Though I suppose I’ve learned more about magic through experience than any library could have taught me.”
“You could still write those treatises,” I offer. “Plenty of source material now. ‘On the Experience of Resurrection: A Personal Account.’”
Nasyra’s laugh is surprised and genuine. “Perhaps. If we survive long enough for academia to seem appealing again.” She tilts her head at me. “Your turn, princess. What did little Tamsin want?”
I take a fortifying sip of wine and let the memory surface.
“An explorer.” The word feels sweet and sad on my tongue.
“I used to steal maps from my father’s study and trace routes to places I’d never seen.
Beyond the mountains. Across the sea. I wanted to discover something—a lost city, a hidden people, a new species of magical creature.
I wanted to leave my mark on the world through adventure rather than politics. ”
“What stopped you?”
“My powers.” The old frustration rises, familiar and bitter.
“I was seven when the white fire came. After that, there were tutors and training and the constant awareness that I was too valuable to risk. Too important to let out of sight. The girl who wanted to explore became the princess who needed protecting.”
“And now?” Aisling asks quietly.
“Now I’m exploring whether I can survive my sister trying to murder me.” I try for lightness. It mostly lands. “Not quite the adventure I imagined, but technically qualifies.”
Selene raises her glass. “To childhood dreams and the strange paths we took instead.”
We drink, and something eases in my chest. The sharing of dreams and disappointments, the acknowledgment that none of us ended up where we expected—it creates a solidarity I didn’t know I was craving.