Chapter 7 Selene #2
When I finish, I’m breathing hard but standing. Steady. Solid.
Drayke’s expression hasn’t changed, but his posture has shifted. Less tension. More... pride, maybe. Approval.
“You’re a fast learner.”
Coming from him, it sounds like high praise.
“You’re a good teacher.” I lower the sword, rolling my aching shoulders. “When you stop growling.”
“I don’t growl.”
“You absolutely growl. It’s very intimidating. Very dragon-king-ish.”
That almost-smile again. The one that transforms his whole face, makes him look younger, less burdened.
“Dragon-king-ish.”
“It’s a word.”
“It’s not a word.”
“It is now. I just invented it.” I grin at him, high on endorphins and the unfamiliar sensation of competence. “Add it to your vocabulary, Guardian King.”
He shakes his head. But he’s still almost-smiling, and I’m counting that as a victory.
I set the sword aside and stretch, arms reaching toward the sky, back arching. Everything hurts in that satisfying way that means I’ve actually made progress.
When I straighten, Drayke is closer than he was a moment ago.
Much closer.
He’s watching me with that intensity again—the one that makes my skin prickle and my heart skip. His jaw is tight. His hands are fisted at his sides. His whole body radiates barely-contained tension.
“What?” My voice comes out softer than intended.
“Nothing.” But he doesn’t look away. Doesn’t step back.
The clearing feels smaller. The air feels thicker. The space between us hums with electricity, with tension that’s been building since that first moment by the stream.
I take a step toward him. He doesn’t retreat.
Another step. Close enough to feel his heat. Close enough to count the flecks of gold in his eyes.
“Drayke.” His name feels different on my lips now. Heavier.
His hand rises. Hovers near my face. For a moment, I’m certain he’s going to touch me—cup my cheek, brush away the hair sticking to my sweaty temple.
His fingers tremble.
The Guardian King, who fights dragons and commands armies and has lived for four centuries, is trembling because he wants to touch me.
Something fierce blooms in my chest.
I lean in. Close the distance. Our faces are inches apart now, breath mingling, hearts racing. His eyes drop to my mouth. Mine drop to his.
He smells heavenly. His heat wraps around me, that impossible warmth that marks him as other than human. This close, I can see the pulse hammering in his throat. Can see the war playing out behind his eyes—desire and fear, want and restraint.
The world narrows to this moment. This breath. This almost-touch that feels more intimate than anything I’ve ever experienced.
A branch snaps in the distance.
Drayke jerks back. The heat between us shatters, replaced by cold air and sudden distance. His expression shutters, all that vulnerability disappearing behind the familiar mask of control.
“That’s enough for today.” His voice is rough. Wrong.
“Drayke—”
“You should rest. Eat. We’ll train again tomorrow.”
He’s already turning away. Already putting distance between us with every step.
“Every time.” The words burst out of me before I can stop them. “Every time we get close, you run. What are you so afraid of?”
He stops. His back is to me, shoulders rigid, hands curled into fists.
“You.” The word is a rasp. “Me.” He turns, just enough for me to see his profile. The hard line of his jaw. The glow threatening behind his eyes. “This.” He gestures between us. “All of it.”
“That’s not an answer.”
He faces forward again. “Go back to the cabin, Selene. Please.”
The please cracks me open. He’s not ordering me. He’s asking. And underneath the careful control, I can hear it—desperation. Fear. The same war I’ve been fighting since the moment we met.
I want to push. Want to demand answers. Want to march over there and kiss him until those walls he’s built come crashing down.
Instead, I pick up my sword. Start walking toward the cabin.
“This isn’t over,” I say without looking back. “Whatever this is between us—I’m not giving up on it just because you’re scared.”
He doesn’t respond.
But he doesn’t deny it either.
The cabin feels too quiet after the intensity of the clearing. Drayke’s gone. Left to check the area for danger. I think he really just wanted to get away from me.
I strip off my sweaty clothes. Stand under the hottest water the ancient pipes can produce. Let the heat soak into my aching muscles while my mind replays every moment of the past few hours.
His hands on mine. His chest against my back. His admission—
Staying away from you.
He wants me. That much is undeniable now. The thing he’s fighting, the fear holding him back—it’s not lack of desire. If anything, his desire seems to be the problem.
The last Fire-Bringer died because she refused to be protected.
He watched her burn.
Is that what he’s afraid of? That getting close to me will end the same way? That his protection—or his desire—will somehow destroy me?
I turn off the water. Wrap myself in a towel. Stare at my reflection in the foggy mirror.
Same gray eyes. Same freckled nose. Same stubborn set to my jaw that’s gotten me into trouble my whole life.
But I’m different now. It’s in the way I hold myself. In the fire, I can feel simmering just beneath my skin, waiting to be called.
I’m not the same person who drove up this mountain three days ago. Not the same person who screamed at shadows and armed herself with a baseball bat.
I’m becoming more. Stronger. The kind of person who could stand beside a dragon.
The question is whether Drayke will let me.
I dress in clean clothes. Eat the leftovers from breakfast. Practice my fire until I can hold a steady flame for ten minutes without wavering.
The sword leans against the wall where I left it. Tomorrow, I’ll train again. The day after, and the day after that. Until I’m good enough to fight next to him instead of behind him.
Because this thing between us—his fears, his walls—I’m not the kind of person who gives up easily. Never have been. Drove my mother crazy. Made my exes miserable. Got me through college and three different careers and the worst breakup of my life.
Stubbornness, my therapist called it. Determination, I prefer.
Outside, the sun sets in shades of gold and crimson. The forest settles into evening quiet. And somewhere out there, Drayke is probably brooding about all the reasons he should stay away from me.
Good luck with that, Guardian King. I smile at the darkening window. I’m just getting started.
Tomorrow, we train again.
And next time, I’m not letting him run.