CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
Verena
REALIZATION CAME OVER ME LIKE A WAVE.
Sudden, overpowering and then quiet, relief spilling into every vein, washing me clean.
Three days I’d been holding my breath, waiting. Not just for him to return safely—
But for him to return to me.
Ronan landed, wings folding, smoke trailing. And before thought could stop me, I was running. The bond tightened, pulling me faster, harder, its force a raging heartbeat that had ached the entire time he was gone.
I hadn’t noticed until now, that ache, it was distance. The wound on my body had healed, his magic mending torn flesh. But another wound, one deeper and unseen, had only begun to close because of him.
I collided into him, arms flinging around his neck, legs anchoring at his waist. The scaled armor on his chest was unforgiving against me, but I didn’t care. I needed the solidity of him, needed to breathe him in until my lungs stopped burning.
His scent wrapped around me instantly, smoke, steel, cinnamon, seeping through my skin, pouring into the bond until I was weightless.
With his arms crushing me closer he buried his face into the curve of my neck, and then he inhaled.
Deep, desperate, until breath shuddered out of him again.
Like he was grounding himself on me. Like he had been undone until now.
“Eh hem.” Ford’s foot tapped against the ground, arms crossed tight across his chest. “News to share?” His brow arched.
Ronan lowered me, reluctantly, to the stone. My arms resisted, fingers clinging to him longer than they should have. My cheeks warmed as I finally registered where we stood—a wide field, every pair of eyes fixed on us.
Elysian loomed just behind Ronan, gaze stoic as usual.
“Um...” I cleared my throat, tugging at the tunic that had ridden up above my waistband. “I meant—”
Sorry about this, I sent down the bond.
Ronan blinked, confusion cutting a line between his brows, right before my fist connected squarely with his nose.
Elva gasped, scandalized, hands flying to cover her mouth. Inessa, less subtle, choked out a laugh, mumbling how she likes this one.
I’m going to need more information regarding that.
Ford just groaned, tossing his hands into the air. “Big surprise,” he said. “She fell for the hot, brooding dragon prince.”
Ronan’s nose wrinkled as the bone snapped itself back into place. I blew him a kiss, spun on my heel, and strode away, the bond humming like a quake under my skin.
A different tension sizzled in the air as Callum’s fingers sparked, trailing across the edge of his map. His jaw was locked, words coming through clenched teeth. “You’re leading us straight into their line of range.”
Almost three months of travel, and agitation was no longer simmering, it was snapping.
Ronan stepped forward. “Do you think I don’t know my own kingdom?”
“The one you abandoned, you mean?” Callum took a step closer, fire licking higher along his palms.
Ah, fuck.
Ronan growled, answering the flame with smoke.
I shoved between them, both hands up. “You two are exhausting. Why don’t you just whip your dicks out and get it over with?”
“That’s not what this is about,” Callum snapped, though the flush climbing his cheeks betrayed him.
Ronan’s brow arched, a grin carving its way across his face. “Because he knows who’d win.”
“Me,” they said together, voices overlapping.
“Killian,” Ford chimed in, casual as sin, at the exact same moment.
A dead quiet followed, but Killian’s smirk was loud enough for all of us.
“Everyone, stop it,” Elva sang out, rubbing her fingers through her untangled hair. Then, with a sigh, she added, “Or do carry on. You’re all so beautifully tragic, aren’t you?”
Oh fates. She’s going mad out here.
I groaned, pinching the bridge of my nose. “This is ridiculous, we’re supposed to be a united front. At least, you know, for the time being, remember? Enemies at the gate, world falling apart, et cetera. Ringing any bells?”
Ford leaned sluggishly against a boulder; hands tucked behind his head like he was settling in for a show. “Or, and hear me out, we do what you just suggested and settle it the old-fashioned way. You know,” his grin turned feral as he winked, “measure.”
“Ew, Ford.” My stomach twisted. “That’s my brother. And I was kidding.”
He only shrugged. “Not our brother. Close your eyes, then.”
A strangled squeak burst from Elva before she slapped both hands over her mouth. Her face went scarlet, and traitor that she was, her eyes darted downward—toward Callum.
Ford spread his arms wide. “Gods, it’s been months since any of us...” He gave an obscene little gesture with his hands, wiggling his brows. “Maybe what this group really needs is to blow off a little steam.”
Nezra choked on her canteen, sputtering up water before muttering something sharp under her breath about men being insufferable.
Kanoa, on the other hand, shifted instantly, a wall of muscle as he angled himself in front of Inessa, eyes narrowing as though Ford had just suggested auctioning her off.
Ronan didn’t say a word, but a dark haze drifted across the ground between us like a threat, shielding. As if to remind the entire camp—no one touches her.
And through it all, Ford just smirked wider.
“Ford,” I pointed toward the nearest tree, “time out.”
Grumbling under his breath, his eyes went skyward, arms shooting out to his sides as he dragged himself in front of a tree and began counting, loudly.
His words were crass, meant as a joke. But fates curse me, my mind became its own and drifted toward Ronan. Every nerve seemed aware of him. Aware of the smoke curling possessively around my legs as if it had the right. And maybe Ford wasn’t entirely wrong. Maybe we did need to blow off some steam.
My stare snagged on Killian for half a breath. Sharp jaw, thick, walnut hair, eyes that promised undoing. Hot in that infuriating, dangerous way. The thought came, wicked and fast, and I knew I’d never speak it aloud.
No.
The bond yanked, and my eyes went back to Ronan, drawn as if by fate’s cruel hand. His stare was already on me, unreadable, though the desire there was impossible to miss. My teeth caught my lower lip, a reckless bite, before I could stop myself. Maybe he’s exactly what I needed.
After Nezra laid an illusion around the pixies’ camp, ensuring their safety for the time being, we had decided to go Ronan’s way.
Which, in theory, did make more sense. However, theory didn’t account for the painful weight of three extra days of travel. Still, when the path stayed clear of Obrann’s soldiers, of Reve, I told myself it was worth it.
Though, the raging desire to poison and gut him grew more alive every day. I could almost taste it. It was metallic and vengeful. And so, so close.
But it wasn’t just rage that pulled at me. There was still Ronan. My knuckles hadn’t even split from the punch I’d landed after he returned from saving Willa. But something between us had.
In that moment, when I’d clung to him, I hadn’t cared who saw, hadn’t cared that my desperation had been written across my face. Until I noticed that they had seen. Until all at once, they had watched him win.
Why him? The man who’d turned his back on a crown, who’d slain my serpent and set my village ablaze for the pleasure of it. It should have been simple: loathe, kill, move on. But every argument I crafted unraveled as an unnamed fragment inside me answered with a traitorous yes.
I clamped my jaw shut because wanting was a luxury I could not afford. To let myself fall for him felt like training fate’s hand—invite it in and it would learn where to strike. If I gave him any part of me, I would only teach the world how to take him too.
The bond lit into a rope of starlight and flame, pulling at my ribs with a gravity I’d never known. And I knew, it was better to tear myself apart than watch that tether snap and leave me unmade.
Or so I helplessly hoped.
“Don’t you squint at me.” I stood awkwardly inside Ronan’s tent, my stance uncomfortable against the hard-packed floor.
He didn’t move from the corner, perched like some great beast. Smoke wound idly around him, warping the shadows, veiling everything but the gleam of his eyes.
I hadn’t sought him out by choice when we made camp for the night. Not really. But when the tether between us strained so tight it hurt to breathe, I’d ended up here.
And gods, the sight that greeted me—
When I walked in, he’d been nearly bare, only a thin wrap of cloth slung low around his waist, damp curls coiled against his head from a recent wash.
The bond had not steered me wrong.
The cloth was gone now, replaced by loose pants that did nothing to dim the carved planes of his body. His chest remained uncovered, bronzed and cut like hewn stone. I’d counted those muscles—one, two, five times before he caught me staring and cloaked himself in darkness.
Stealer of joy.
“I said I was sorry. I didn’t think the punch was that hard. Shall I kiss it in hopes that it will mend your wounded heart?” I propped my hands beneath my chin, fluttering my lashes as I feigned redemption.
The glow in his eyes deepened, the haze dispersing until he nearly stood bare again, all muscle and smoke-streaked skin. My breath hitched as he moved, until the space between us dissolved.
His fingers tilted my chin, guiding me up into his stare. “It wasn’t the punch, Verena.”
The way my name left him was enough to press into my bones. His gaze dropped, shoulders shifting with a weight I almost felt across my own.
It wasn’t the punch. Of course it wasn’t. His body hadn’t staggered from the strike of my fist, but from what had snapped when I pushed away from him. He hadn’t shoved me off, hadn’t cared who was watching. He’d wrapped me in the steel of his arms and held until I was the one who let go.
My voice lodged somewhere in my throat, I couldn’t say the truth out loud, yet Ronan heard the words anyway. The bond made fools of our secrets that way.