Chapter 78 Heat of You
Damien
The silence after battle always feels wrong. It’s too soft. Too still. The world holds its breath as if afraid to start again. Steam curls from the ruined tower, rising through the trees like smoke from a dying fire. The air is thick with the scent of ash and ice. My dragon prowls inside my mind, restless, his claws scraping against the walls of my thoughts. Check her, he growls. Now. I don’t need telling twice. Bella stands a few feet away, swaying slightly, her skin pale beneath the glow of melting frost. Her fingers tremble as she lowers them from where she last cast, the faint shimmer of her magic still lingering along her skin. I reach her in three long strides.
“Snowflake,” I murmur, catching her hand before she can tuck it behind her back. Her fingers are ice cold. “You’re freezing.”
“I’m fine,” she lies.
She’s always lying about that. The dragon huffs. She’s not fine.
I agree, closing the distance between us. My hand slides up her wrist to her elbow, my thumb brushing slow circles against her chilled skin. She shivers, breath catching. “I said I’m fine,” she repeats, but her voice wavers.
I step closer, close enough that her breath ghosts across my chest. “And I said you’re not.”
Before she can argue, I lift her hands to my lips, exhaling warm air over her fingers. The frost melts instantly, droplets glistening like tiny diamonds. She blinks up at me, eyes wide, lips parting as I move to her other hand. Her pulse flutters through the bond, quick and uneven. The dragon purrs deep in my chest. More.
“Patience,” I mutter.
Bella’s lips twitch. “You’re talking to him, aren’t you?”
I don’t answer. Instead, I take her chin gently between my fingers and tip her head to the side. Frost still clings to her neck in a delicate lace of white. I lean in and breathe warm air against her skin, melting it away inch by inch.
Her hand finds my shoulder. “You don’t have to—”
“Yes, I do.” My voice comes out rougher than intended. I run my palm over the curve of her throat, down to her collarbone, pushing heat into her skin until it softens beneath my touch. The dragon hums. There. Better.
Her breath hitches. “Damien…”
I pull back just enough to look at her. “What?”
Her lips curve. “You’re not wearing pants again.”
I glance down. Gods above. She’s right. The dragon laughs, all teeth and smoke, deciding now is a good time to open the line of communication with her. You like it when we don’t wear pants. Stop squirming so he can warm you.
Bella snorts, half a laugh, half a scandalised gasp. “Oh, my gods.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “You—he—can you not?”
She giggles again, the sound bright and alive. “You two need supervision.”
“I need silence,” I grumble.
“You’re not getting it,” she says, smiling up at me.
That smile. I’d raze kingdoms to keep it.
“Alright!” Ashlyn’s voice cuts through the quiet, too loud and far too amused. “This is officially my cue to leave. I am not a voyeur, thank you very much!”
She waves a dismissive hand toward us, muttering as she turns away, “You two can melt each other in peace. I’ll see you back at camp before the next magical murder attempt.”
She disappears into the trees, her voice fading as she complains to the guards about trauma and the lack of decent wine.
I sigh. “She’s never quiet, is she?”
Bella laughs softly. “That’s why I like her.”
Her laughter fades into a quiet hum, and I realise I’m still touching her—hands still warm on her skin, fingers still tracing the edges of her frostbitten marks. But she’s not cold anymore. She’s glowing. The faint pulse of her magic hums through our bond, steady and alive.
“Better,” I say quietly.
“See?” she teases. “Told you I was fine.”
I shake my head, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. “You terrify me sometimes.”
Her brow furrows. “Why?”
“Because I can’t protect you from everything,” I admit. “And because I’m not sure you’d let me even if I could.”
She studies me for a long moment before whispering, “That’s because I don’t need you to protect me. I just need you with me.”
The dragon sighs like he’s satisfied. She’s right. Stay with her.
I smile faintly. “Always.”
She leans in, her head resting against my chest. I wrap an arm around her, tucking her close, and exhale warmth into her hair. The smell of frost and fire and her fills the air between us. The ruined tower hisses quietly as the last of it melts into the earth. Somewhere in the distance, I hear Ashlyn yelling at a guard about “ice hazards” and “emotional support dwarves.” I let the chaos fade into background noise.
Bella looks up at me, eyes soft. “You’re staring again.”
“You’re worth staring at.”
She smirks. “You really are a terrible gentleman.”
“Never claimed to be one.”
Her fingers slide up to my chest, tracing the faint glow of her mark beneath my skin. The warmth of it sinks deeper, the bond pulsing slow and sure.
“I mean it,” she says softly. “I’m fine, Damien. You don’t have to worry every second.”
I tilt her chin up. “You nearly froze your heart stopping that witch’s shard.”
She smiles. “And yet, it’s still beating.”
The dragon hums. Because it beats for us.
Bella lets out a quiet laugh. “He’s never going to shut up, is he?”
“No,” I admit. “But I think you like him.”
Her smile widens. “He’s growing on me. Both of you are.”
I bend, brushing my lips against her forehead. “You’re infuriating, Snowflake.”
“I know,” she says. “You like that too.”
The dragon growls low in approval, and I can’t help it—I laugh. A real, unrestrained laugh that startles even me. The sound feels strange in my throat, rusty but good.
She grins, tugging lightly at the hem of my coat. “Come on, pantsless wonder. Let’s get back before Ashlyn decides to redecorate the camp.”
I arch a brow. “You think she’d do that?”
“Before we left, she replaced a dwarven mine entrance with a rose garden. So, yes.”
“…Fair point.”
I grab my cloak from within the snow, drape it over her shoulders, and before we start walking. The dragon’s purr vibrates faintly through my chest. She's powerful.
She is.
As we walk back through the mist and melted snow, her hand in mine, I realise warmth isn’t just something I give her—it’s something she returns, again and again, until even the dragon inside me falls silent.