Chapter 169 Left Waiting for a Purpose

Chapter 169 Left Waiting for a Purpose
Red

Drayke wanted to see where I grew up. So his dragon flew us to the outskirts of the woods, wings cutting clean through the morning air, the forest rolling out beneath us in dark greens and shadow. It’s an efficient way to travel, quiet and direct and no unnecessary conversation unless you want it. I should have branched out sooner and found this man. Or one like him. Either way, that thought is filed away and not examined too closely. The cabin comes into view as we descend. It sits where it always has, half-hidden by trees that were young when I first learned to sharpen a blade. The porch leans slightly to the left, one support beam darker, where rainwater has had years to erode it. The roof has held up, though, stubborn as ever, and the walls are worn but intact. A few more cobwebs cling to the eaves, thicker than they used to be, but that’s to be expected without me here to keep things in order. Drayke lands us just beyond the treeline, his dragon folding in on itself with the kind of grace that comes from long practice. Heat bleeds off him in waves, and I shrug off my coat as he shifts back. He's already reaching for his pants, as if it's any other morning and he's not a man, half-dressed, beside the place I learned how to survive.
“Home sweet home,” I say, flat.
Drayke looks at the cabin, then back at me.
“This is it?”
I slap his arm without thinking, the sound sharp in the quiet. “Hey. This was a sanctuary for many, many years.”
He doesn’t flinch. Just rubs the spot with a faint smile. “Didn’t say it wasn’t. Just… expected something bigger.”
“I would hate that,” I reply, already walking toward the door. “Big places attract attention.”
He follows, pulling his shirt on as he goes. The porch creaks under our weight, a familiar complaint. I step around the loose board by instinct and unlock the door with a key I never stopped carrying. The smell of old wood, ash and iron inside hits me immediately, along with the faint ghost of dried herbs tucked into the rafters to keep pests away. It smells like effort. It smells like work done quietly and consistently. Drayke pauses just inside, eyes adjusting, taking it in. He doesn’t comment right away, which I appreciate.
“You lived here alone?” he asks eventually.
“Yes.”
“For how long?”
“Long enough.”
He hums softly. The cabin is simple. One main room with a fireplace that’s seen better days but still works as it should. A narrow table scarred with old cuts and burns. Shelves lined with jars, some empty now, some still holding things I obviously didn't pack when I left. A ladder leads up to the loft, where a narrow bed rests beneath the roof's slope.
Drayke looks up. “That’s it?”
“That’s all I needed.”
He studies the space again, slower this time. “Didn’t you ever feel lonely?”
I open a cupboard and start pulling things out, setting them on the table. A rolled map. A bundle of dried roots. A knife wrapped in cloth.
“I did,” I say. “Sometimes.”
He waits for me to continue.
“But the urge to destroy all the evil that lurks around here kept me busy.”
That earns me a quiet laugh. “Sounds about right.”

I move methodically, packing what matters. I don't need everything, just the things that are useful or meaningful. Drayke leans against the table, watching without interfering.
“You could’ve left earlier,” he says, in a way that is just stating simple facts.
“I could have.”
“Why didn’t you?”
I pause with my hands on a familiar book, its spine cracked from use. I consider the question, then I slide the book into my bag.
“Because someone had to stay,” I say. “And because I didn’t know how to leave without abandoning something important.”
Drayke nods once. He understands that kind of logic. He wanders toward the firework and crouches to examine the stonework.
“You built this yourself?”
“Yes, well, with my Nan.”
“Impressive.”
“It holds.”
“That’s more than impressive.”
I don’t respond simply because compliments are wasted if you don’t need them.
He stands and brushes ash from his hands. “You miss it?”
I glance around at the light filtered through the single window. The way dust moves when you disturb it. The quiet that doesn’t ask anything of you.
“No,” I say. Then, after a moment, I add, “I respect it.”
“That’s not the same.”
“No... It's not.”
I climb the ladder to the loft and retrieve a small wooden box from beneath the bed. Drayke watches from below, head tilted.
“What’s in there?” he asks.
“Things I didn’t trust the floor with.”
He smirks. “That sounds ominous.”
“It’s practical.”
I descend and set the box on the table, opening it carefully. Inside are letters and a few tokens. A ring I never wore. A strip of cloth stained dark with something old and dry. Drayke’s expression shifts, but he doesn’t ask. I touch each piece, and then I close the box and latch it.

“When I left,” I say, quieter now, “I didn’t think I wouldn't come back. I was just on another mission, another day of finding something to stop. I figured I would kill a few things and be back by dinner and do it all over again.”
“And now?”
“Now I feel lucky that I have someone to come home to. A reason to make the days different.”
He steps closer, wrapping his arms around my waist from behind and planting a kiss on the top of my head.
“You don’t have to give this up,” he says. “You could keep it and come back when you want.”
I look at him, at the man who flew me here because he wanted to understand me.
“I don’t need to keep it,” I say. “I carried it long enough.”
He nods, accepting that without trying to argue me out of it.

We finish packing in silence. When it’s done, I take one last look around. I don’t linger. Lingering turns into something else if you let it. Outside, Drayke waits while I lock the door. I leave the key under the stone where it’s always been.
“Ready?” he asks.
“Yes.”
He shifts, scales rippling under skin, heat flaring briefly as his dragon surfaces. Before he fully changes, his hand finds mine, grip solid and sure.
“You were never meant to stay hidden,” he says.
“I wasn’t hiding,” I reply. “I was preparing for the day I'd find a new purpose.”
He smiles at that and lets the shift take over. As his dragon takes flight, the cabin shrinks beneath us, folding back into the forest where it belongs. I don’t look back again. I don’t need to. I have work to do elsewhere now.