Chapter Four
LYRA’S POV
Warm summer night air hits as Talen hauls me from the lake, but it doesn’t help.
With my teeth chattering, my shoulders jerking in violent, uncontrollable waves, I try to drag in air that won’t go down.
So cold, I’m so fucking cold.
My skin feels like it’s being stabbed by a thousand needles, sharp and merciless yet numb all at the same time.
Clasping my hands to my lips, I try to stop the shaking. I just want to get warm and see Ezzy. I’m done with the surprises tonight.
Still, I can’t even move. A frantic rhythm pounds against my ribs, fast and uneven, and I think I’m about to faint—no, wait. Throw up.
Talen curses under his breath as he props me upright before I can fold in on myself, yanking the soaked leather jacket from my shoulders and throwing it to the ground.
But he doesn't stop there. His hands keep moving fast, hooking under my top next and dragging the wet fabric over my head, leaving me bare except for the wrap around my breasts.
“What… W–what are you doing?” I stutter, the words barely audible as I try to push him away, but another shudder rips through me and my strength gives out.
In front of me, Talen doesn’t answer. He strips off his own shirt in one fluid motion, steps in again, and wraps me close against his bare chest.
The heat hits instantly, stinging where it meets my near-frozen skin, so sharp it almost hurts. But beneath it, my lungs loosen. Relief floods in—sudden and addictive—and my body reacts before my pride can, pressing in closer.
“This is a glacial lake,” Talen says at last, voice steady despite the tremors still running through me. “Even in summer it barely gets above freezing. You weren’t under long—but it doesn’t take much.”
Pulling me closer, he mutters something over my shoulder to Ahria as she lands behind me with a heavy thud, though I barely register it. All I can focus on is Talen’s heat bleeding into me.
Minutes pass. Maybe more. Who the hell knows? And through all of it, he keeps me there, holding me until the shivering thins to faint tremors beneath my skin and feeling gradually returns to my fingers. My toes. Then finally, my jaw loosens enough to speak.
“How do you know how to swim…?” My question comes out quiet as a wave of warm blood spreads through me.
Talen wraps his arms tighter around me and drops his chin, resting it gently against my forehead. “I spent my summers on this lake. Not far from here.”
I manage to roll my eyes. Of course the Veirmonts have a lake house.
After a few more shaky inhales, my heart rate starts to settle, syncing with his. I’m still cold, the night breeze brushing over us, but no longer shaking with it.
Talen feels the shift too. His grip eases before his hands fall away and he retreats a few steps, just enough to look at me.
Suddenly a different heat rises when my gaze lands on him.
He’s wet. Shirtless. His chest rises heavily as water traces down the hard lines of his body, following the deep V of muscle beneath his skin before vanishing at the waist of his leather trousers.
I follow it without meaning to, almost lost in a trance, and when I glance back up his eyes catch mine—hold—then drop to my lips.
Desire lashes through my chilled veins as a brutal rhythm builds behind my sternum, climbing higher, pressing at my throat.
God. I want, I want to—
I try to shove the thought down, to swallow it. But the surge is too violent, too sudden and the dam breaks.
I move before I can stop myself.
Talen doesn’t move. Doesn't stop me.
And my fist connects with his nose with a sharp, satisfying crack.
Stumbling back, his hands fly to his face. “Fuck, Bloom—”
“That’s for Ezzy,” I hurl the words at him, ignoring the pain flaring through my hand.
His mouth opens—maybe to argue, maybe to apologise—I don’t give him the chance. My knee drives up next, fast and vicious, catching him square in the groin.
Doubling over, Talen folds with a strangled groan, hands dropping from his nose.
“And that’s for Brian. For Rowan.” The words tear out of me, raw and uneven. I don’t even care that it wasn’t fully his fault. He’s the one standing in front of me. He’s the one I can hit. And right now, I need someone to hurt the way I hurt.
Talen lifts his hands in surrender, but I don’t stop. I’m too angry to stop.
“And that’s—” My fist slams against his chest, solid muscle under my knuckles, “—that’s for letting me believe you were one of them.”
“Fuck, Lyra—” He straightens despite the pain, hands half-raised like he longs to reach for me but doesn’t dare.
“I wanted to tell you so many times. I almost did. But I’ve never been one of them.
It’s gotten easier to pretend I am. But having you actually believe it?
Having you look at me like I was?” Voice breaking, he turns toward the lake and the black scales inked on his back come into full view. “God, it was fucking killing me.”
The crack in his tone does something dangerous to my breathing, and as he turns back my focus lifts from the birthmark above his heart to his face before I can stop them—and I see it. The pain. The torment laid bare across it.
I look away fast.
“And what the hell were you thinking?” I continue, clinging to the anger because it’s easier than admitting the desire underneath. “Taking me up on a bloody dragon?”
“I didn’t think it would be that bad,” his voice is still strained.
“I thought I could control it, keep you steady. I can do it with anyone else, I’ve done it for years.
But with you…” Shaking his head, his jaw tightens.
“Because of this shared Threadfield, I couldn’t even hold my own magic straight with your fear bleeding into me. ”
Raking a hand through his wet hair, he exhales hard and shifts a step away, and it takes more effort than it should not to follow him and pull him back.
“I’m sorry.” He sighs, softer now. “You're right. This was such a mistake. I misjudged it. I shouldn’t have tried to manage your emotions like that. I just wanted your first ride with Ahria to be perfect. I thought if I could smooth the edges it would help the bond.”
Following his gaze, I turn toward Ahria, who’s settled about a hundred metres away, grooming one wing, and the same hollow pull opens inside me all over again, just like it did when I first saw her.
I’ve never wanted anything more. It’s overwhelming and perfect at the same time—the thought of her, of this Blood Moon Ceremony, of being bonded with her.
I get it. I get why he did it, controlling my Threads, my fear, like that. Hell, I allowed it. I could have said no. Still, the words manage your emotions, slip under my skin and settle colder than the lake.
“How can I even trust you?” My voice wavers despite my effort to keep it steady as I face Talen again. “That you’ve not been messing with my emotions all this time. Did you ever actually care? Was any of it real? Or was this only about helping Merrin—about whatever he thinks I’m supposed to be?”
“Was it real?” he repeats. “God, Lyra, it was the only real fucking thing I’ve had in years…
” Taking a step forward, he starts closing the distance between us and my pulse kicks up, but I don’t move.
“I never planned for this—for us—to happen. It wasn’t a strategy.
From the first day I saw you in the courtyard, all I wanted was to keep you safe.
You made it pretty difficult at times... but that was it.”
His hand runs over his stubble as his throat works and his expression softens in a way that has my heart skipping a beat.
“I should have walked.” He continues. “I didn’t.
Because I wanted it. I wanted you. Even knowing exactly what it could cost me.
” The air between us suddenly feels too thin as he takes another step forward “My feelings for you are real. Yours are real. Everything I told you in Ravenscross is true, that I haven’t used my magic to control your emotions without you knowing since before Ashvale. Since that kiss.”
As the last word leaves his mouth, a single truth string slips from his lips, fine and bright in the dark. It drifts across the short space between us and sinks into my skin with a sharp pull. My lungs stutter.
“I never wanted to hurt you, Lyra. But I did. I took your trust and twisted it. And for that I’m so sorry.”
His hands fall to his sides as he angles away, his head dropping with the movement.
The admission should feed my fury, instead it drains it, and I have to bite down on the inside of my cheek and force myself to stay still, shoving down the urge to reach for him.
I want to hate him, cleanly, completely. I need control—of this, of him. Over the way my chest locks up every time his beautiful, dark eyes lock on mine. Yet the harder I reach for it, the thinner it feels in my grip.
I need space. Distance. Air. Before I do something reckless, like hit him again.
Or worse.
“Take me to Ezzy,” I demand, folding my arms to hide how hard my pulse is ticking.
His mouth opens as though he wants to object. Then he exhales slowly, and nods, before turning to pick up our wet clothes from the ground.
“Dragons prefer the cold,” he states as he straightens, water still dripping from the fabric.
“They usually sleep outside. But if this bond is going to take, she needs proximity. She needs the chance to see who you really are.” He gestures toward Ahria, who is now focused on us.
“So I think it’s best if she stays in your tent. ”
“She what?!” I stare at him, any trace of want or longing obliterated by complete and utter shock. “Have you completely lost your mind? There is no goddamn way she’s coming inside a tent with me! Have you seen the size of her?”
The corner of his mouth pulls into that crooked, infuriating half-smile as he lifts his free hand and flicks his fingers toward Ahria.
Across the clearing, Ahria lets out a frustrated, almost pissed-off huff, smoke seeping from her nostrils as her head jerks toward us like she can’t believe she’s being summoned.
Talen raises a brow at her, a silent don’t push me.
The warning obviously lands as she unfurls her wings and launches into the air with a violent downbeat that rattles the ground beneath my boots.
I tense automatically. Desperate for her to be closer, yet completely petrified at the same time.
But as she closes the distance, something feels… off.
She should be blotting out the sky by now.
She isn’t.
She’s getting closer, yet she’s not getting bigger.
My stomach drops as my brain finally catches up, as her wings tuck back, a tiny puff of smoke drifting from her nostrils and she lands lightly in Talen’s palm.
I stare.
She’s no larger than a well-fed mouse.
What the—