Chapter 38 #3
“I think we are both too tired, and I’m not ready for all of you, not yet.” She began to lather the soap across his chest, gently tracing the curves of old scars and fresh bruises. Her hands moved with caution. When she reached his jaw, she paused.
He tilted his head down and kissed her. Slow. Deep. Tender. The kind of kiss that said, You matter, and I see you, and this is real.
When they pulled apart, she exhaled, her fingers tangled in his damp hair.
“Turn,” she whispered.
He did.
She slid behind him and gently scrubbed his shoulders, careful around the place where a dark bruise bloomed near his ribs.
“You don’t let anyone see this side of you,” she murmured.
“Nope, I’m all business and a soldier,” he said. “With you, I want to try to be more for you.”
She leaned forward and kissed the back of his neck.
They lingered in the water, washing away sweat and soot in near silence.
When they finally stepped out, she dried herself quietly and slipped into a long black tunic from his drawer.
It fell past her knees, carrying the scent of fresh linen and him.
He went down to the eating hall to get food for them.
When he returned, he wrapped her in a blanket from the bed and pulled her down beside the fire, where their two plates of food and a flask of wine waited. Roasted pheasant, fresh bread, buttered greens, and wine poured into mismatched ceramic mugs.
They ate slowly. She curled into his side, head on his shoulder. Neither tried to pretend the moment was anything more than what it was.
“You’ve been different since the raid,” she said quietly. “More focused.”
“I nearly lost my brother that night,” he said. “Darian and then you, whom I never knew that I needed.”
Thaelyn looked up. “And now?”
He turned toward her, cupping her cheek with one hand.
“Now, I’m done waiting for the world to permit us. I know it’s against the rules, with me assigned to be your trainer.”
She swallowed. “This, whatever it is, it could fall apart.”
“It could,” he said. “But it doesn’t have to.”
She nodded slowly. “So what do we do?”
He leaned in and pressed his forehead to hers. “We fight for it. We make room for each other, even when the dragons rage. Even when the council pries. Even when things don’t go our way, or when I make you so mad the sky falls.”
Her breath caught. He kissed her again, slow and grounding. Then he whispered against her lips, “Stay tonight. Just, stay.”
She didn’t answer with words. She curled into him, pulled the blanket tighter around both of them, and closed her eyes to the sound of his heartbeat beneath her ear.
There, in a dorm high above the torches of the Asgar Training Academy, with dragons sleeping and their fate on pause, two hearts rested in silence, for the first time in what felt like lifetimes. Together.
The fall morning broke over the Asgar Training Academy with sharp mountain light, pale and clear.
The snow on the ridges had not melted overnight, but the skies had turned to sapphire, cloudless and wide.
Wind rustled through the pines lining the upper walls, tugging at the cloaks of early-rising cadets already making their way across the field toward dragon pens and sparring rings.
Thaelyn stepped out of Thorne’s dorm with his cloak still draped over her shoulders.
She pulled it tighter around herself, trying not to feel self-conscious about her bed-tousled braid, bare face, or the lazy glow still tingling across her skin from the quiet night before.
Thorne followed a step behind, freshly washed, leathers on, shirt half-buttoned, hair still damp at the ends.
He said nothing at first, just walked quietly with her down the steps, boots striking the stone.
As they reached the intersection near the central tower, he glanced sideways at her.
“You’re thinking too loudly.”
She gave him a look. “Am I?”
“You’re worried they’ll notice.”
“They will notice,” she said, exasperated. “I didn’t exactly sneak out under the cover of invisibility. I walked into your room in full view of the whole corridor.”
“You are the talk of the riders’ barracks lately.”
“Not helping.”
He smirked and reached over to tug the edge of his cloak tighter around her. “Don’t worry. You wear scandal well.”
They ascended the stairs quickly, boots echoing up the narrow spiral. Her braid had come loose again, and Thorne’s scent clung to her skin, a mix of his soap and something warm she couldn’t name.
She gave him a mock glare, then stopped in front of her dorm room. “Wait here.”
“Yes, General Marren.”
She pushed open the dorm door and stepped inside, her heart still half in his hands.
Sunlight streamed through the slatted windows, spilling across the tidy chaos of their shared space. Blankets were half-tossed, weapons leaned against bedposts, and steam curled up from a kettle on the heating rune.
Iri looked up from her bunk and nearly choked on a slice of dried fruit. “Well, well, well.”
Feyra turned from the mirror, eyes widening. “Look who decided to show up.”
Vaeryn peeked up from her cot, already lacing up her boots. “Was it a dragon attack? Or just a very thorough inspection?”
“I swear to the Gods,” Thaelyn muttered, shutting the door behind her, “if one of you makes a single sound, ”
“You didn’t come home last night,” Iri said dramatically, hands to her chest. “Confirmed. That is not just a bad hairdo. That is, I slept on a prince’s chest and woke up wrapped in stolen luxury hair.”
Feyra added, “And that’s not her cloak. That’s a man’s cloak.”
“It’s not like that,” Thaelyn lied, moving swiftly to her trunk and pulling out fresh leggings and a clean undershirt.
“Oh, it’s exactly like that,” Vaeryn said, barely concealing a grin. “Did he make you dinner and breakfast?”
“He brought up dinner and wine,” Thaelyn said before she could stop herself, then groaned and covered her face with the cloak. “Why do I say things?”
“Wine!” Iri squealed.
Feyra folded her arms. “Gods, Thae. We expected you to be a slow-burn. You guys probably burned the whole damn forest down in one night.”
Then a low, dry voice floated in through the door. “I’m flattered.”
All three girls froze. Thaelyn turned in horror.
Thorne leaned against the open doorframe, arms crossed, one brow cocked in amused triumph.
“You left it open,” he said casually. “And you talk very loudly.”
Iri stared. “He’s been there the whole time?”
Vaeryn cleared her throat and offered a weak salute. “Prince Dareth.”
“Rider’s Squad Leader Dareth,” Feyra corrected.
“Thorne is fine,” he said, still smirking.
Thaelyn groaned, “You can all die now.”
“I could,” Thorne agreed, “but then who would walk you to flight training?”
He turned with a flourish and descended out of the door.
Thaelyn turned to the others with a helpless shrug. “He’s impossible.”
Iri grinned. “He’s walking you to the flight training? That’s going public.”
The moment Thaelyn stepped back into the corridor, fully dressed and braid redone, she saw them, half the first-years loitering near the stairwell, blatantly pretending not to stare.
A few second-years leaned against the walls, exchanging subtle glances.
One nodded in greeting, another whispered to a companion.
Thorne stood, arms behind his back, entirely unbothered by the attention.
She joined him, shoulders square. “You don’t have to wait for me,” she muttered.
“I wanted to,” he said. “Let them look. We’ve earned this.”