Chapter 33
THIRTY-THREE
AERO
The planning continued until well past midnight.
They hammered out evacuation routes and contingency plans. They debated defensive positions and magical strategies. They argued about resources and timing and the hundred small decisions that could mean the difference between survival and catastrophe.
Through it all, Aero found his attention drifting to Cassia.
She threw herself into the planning with the same intensity she brought to everything—passionate, focused, refusing to accept limitations.
When Hux suggested evacuating the fishing fleet, she pushed back with detailed arguments about the importance of maintaining their early warning network.
When Junie proposed a complicated ward-strengthening ritual, Cassia offered modifications based on her knowledge of coastal magical currents.
She was brilliant. Fierce. Everything his dragon had recognized from the moment they met.
And she was exhausted. He could see it in the shadows under her eyes, the slight tremor in her hands, the way she leaned more heavily against the table as the hours wore on.
She’d fought a siren that morning. Nearly drowned on dry land.
And now, she was pushing herself to stay awake and contribute to planning sessions that showed no sign of ending.
At 2:00 a.m., with the others dispersing at last to their own preparations, Aero found Cassia staring blankly at a weather projection, her eyes unfocused.
“You need to sleep.”
She startled, blinking. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not.” He moved to stand beside her, close enough that their shoulders brushed. “You’ve been running on adrenaline and determination for eighteen hours. Your body needs rest.”
“I can’t sleep.” She rubbed her eyes. “Every time I close my eyes, I see Delos going down. The water construct hitting him. The blood.” A shudder ran through her. “How am I supposed to sleep when I keep reliving it?”
Aero didn’t have an answer to that. He’d been asking himself the same question all night.
“Come here.” The words emerged rough, raw.
He guided her to the sitting area of Avine’s suite—a comfortable arrangement of couches and chairs that had probably hosted countless friend gatherings under happier circumstances. The others had left, giving them privacy.
Aero settled onto one of the larger couches, then pulled Cassia down beside him.
“What are you—”
“Just rest.” He positioned her against his side, her head finding the hollow of his shoulder. “You don’t have to sleep. Just… rest.”
She tensed for a moment, then slowly relaxed into him. Her body was warm against his, fitting into the space beside him like she’d been designed for it.
“This is very domestic,” Cassia murmured against his chest. “Cuddling on a couch while the world prepares to end.”
“The world isn’t ending.” His arm tightened around her. “We won’t let it.”
“Such confidence.” Her voice was growing fuzzy at the edges, exhaustion winning at last. “What if we can’t stop her?”
“Then we’ll go down fighting.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head—a gesture so natural, it didn’t register as unusual. “But we won’t fail. You and I, with our magic combined—we’re strong enough to stop a tsunami. I believe that.”
“You believe things now?” She yawned. “That’s new.”
“Many things are new.” He watched the dark windows, the stars dim through the light pollution of the town. “A week ago, I would have told you that dragon mate recognition was a statistical anomaly. That emotional vulnerability was a weakness I’d long since evolved beyond.”
“And now?”
“Now I’m sitting on a couch in the dead of night holding a woman I would burn down the world for, and counting the hours until I can fight at her side.
” His tone gentled. “Everything I thought I knew about myself was wrong. Everything I thought I wanted was a lie I told myself to avoid the terror of actually wanting something.”
“That’s very philosophical for this hour.”
“Dragons are philosophical creatures. We have a lot of time to think.”
Her breathing was slowing, growing deeper. The tension drained from her muscles by degrees. “Aero?”
“Hmm?”
“I’m glad your dragon picked me.” The words were muffled against his shirt. “Even if it means fighting a crazy siren and possibly dying in the process.”
“We’re not going to die.”
“Promise?”
He hesitated. Promises weren’t something he made lightly—not with his lifespan, not with his history. But looking down at the woman falling asleep against his chest, the woman his dragon had claimed with an intensity that terrified him, he found he couldn’t refuse.
“Promise.”
She smiled, already more asleep than awake. “Good. Because I have plans for you, dragon. Plans that involve significantly less clothing and significantly more of that warmth you generate.”
His body reacted to the words even as his mind registered that she probably wouldn’t remember saying them in the morning. “Sleep now. Plans later.”
“Bossy.” But she nestled closer, her hand fisting in his shirt. “Sleeping. Not because you told me to. Because I want to.”
“Of course.”
Within minutes, her breathing evened out into the rhythm of true sleep. Aero held her, watching the slow rise and fall of her chest, listening to the quiet sounds of the sleeping inn around them.
Outside, the ocean churned with Nerissa’s gathering fury. Somewhere beneath those dark waters, a jealous siren was building a weapon that could destroy everything Aero had unexpectedly come to care about.
The deadline loomed.
Seventy-two hours to master a magical synchronization he and Cassia had only glimpsed. To prepare a town for potential disaster. To figure out how to defeat an ancient enemy who had every advantage in her own element.
His dragon lay quiet in his chest. Content, for once. At peace.
Because Cassia was here. Safe. Sleeping in his arms.
And whatever came when the wave arrived, whatever battle waited on the horizon, he would face it with her. He would fight for her. And if necessary—though he prayed to gods he’d stopped believing in lifetimes ago that it wouldn’t be—he would die for her.
Aero pressed another kiss to her hair and settled in to wait for dawn.
The clock was ticking.