Chapter 50 Pyra
Rhea POV
After a bit, Pyra’s presence softened, and her fire dimmed to a warm glow.
"Sooo, tell me about you," she asked gently. "Not the burning. The girl."
I swallowed, as the wind rushed past my wings. “My parents were fighters,” I said. “Rebellion through and through. They taught me how to aim before I could read. They died trying to break a supply line when I was still a kid.”
Her flame pulsed, low and sympathetic.
“Commander Solen raised me after that,” I continued. “Gruff. Stubborn. Best man I’ve ever known. And Maris… she’s my sister in every way that matters. Loud. Brave. Annoying as hell. I miss her so much it hurts.”
"You will find her again," Pyra murmured.
I laughed weakly. “Rhett is incredible. Solid. Sexy as sin. Drives me crazy in the best way. Korr is infuriating, arrogant, and impossibly fucking hot. And Nox… he’s willing to change. That scares me almost as much as it gives me hope.”
"And you?" Pyra asked.
“I’m terrified,” I admitted. “But I’m still flying.”
Her fire wrapped around my heart.
"That is enough," she said.
\~~~~~~
Korr POV
Flight should have cleared my head. It always did.
Nothing seemed to work anymore when she was involved.
The wind tore across my scales as I banked beside Gryn and Dryn, and the Wildlands unfolded beneath us in a smear of green and stone. Below, Rhea’s phoenix fire cut the air in brilliant arcs of red and violet, incandescent against the sky. She flew like instinct itself, fearless, laughing, and alive in a way that scraped against every rule I had ever sworn to uphold.
I couldn’t speak to her. That was the problem.
No bond meant no mind-link. No shared channel. No clean way to tell her to slow down, to stop darting so close to my wing, to please stop being so gods damned distracting while flying inches from my throat like a living temptation.
"She’s infuriating," I sent to Gryn and Dryn through our shared draconic bond.
Dryn’s amusement rolled back at me like heat. "You mean brilliant."
"I mean reckless," I snapped. "And human. And..." I cut the thought off, annoyed at myself.
Gryn laughed outright, and the sound echoed through the bond. "You were staring again."
“I was assessing,” I growled aloud, though they heard the truth beneath it. Her body moved like flame given form, powerful and unashamed. Every shift of muscle, every sweep of her wings, set my dragon’s instincts snarling.
Vaelrith stirred within me, restless and alert.
"She is magnificent," my dragon rumbled. "And she smells of fire and defiance."
“That does not help,” I muttered.
"You want her," Vaelrith replied, utterly unbothered. "And you hate that you cannot command her."
I scowled, banking sharply to avoid colliding with Rhea as she swooped upward, clearly enjoying herself far too much. The twins flanked me, relaxed, and entertained by my irritation.
"She trusts you," Dryn added. "That alone should terrify you more than her fire."
It did.
I opened my mouth to retort when a new presence slid into the air between us, bright and warm and unmistakably alive.
“Well hello,” a feminine voice purred, not through the bond but directly into Vaelrith’s awareness.
My dragon froze.
I felt it the instant it happened, Vaelrith’s attention snapped toward the source like a struck bell. The phoenix spiraled closer, and her fire shimmered as she slowed. Her head tilted with unmistakable curiosity.
"Who.." I began.
" I am PYRA," the phoenix announced cheerfully. "Nice to finally stretch my wings. Gods, it’s been centuries."
Vaelrith moved without my permission, angling closer to her, our massive wings beating in sync before I could stop him.
“Vaelrith,” I hissed. “Control yourself.”
"Why would I," he replied serenely. "She is radiant."
The phoenix laughed, and it was a sound like crackling embers. "You’re handsome too, dragon. Big. Gold. Very impressive wingspan."
The twins lost it. Gryn’s laughter shook the bond. "Oh this is priceless."
Dryn added, "Brother, your dragon is courting."
“I am not...” I started, then stopped as Pyra drifted closer, and her fire licked gently against Vaelrith’s scales without burning.
"Easy," she crooned. "Just saying hello. You dragons are so serious."
Vaelrith preened.
I could feel it. Actually feel it. The smug warmth of my dragon basking in her attention, and his pride flaring like a forge stoked too high.
“This is highly inappropriate,” I said flatly.
Pyra’s attention flicked to me, sharp and amused. "Oh, you must be the grumpy one. Korr, right?"
I stiffened. “You know my name.”
"Rhea talks," Pyra replied lightly. "A lot. She’s fond of you. Finds you infuriating. Also very attractive."
The twins howled. I felt heat rise to my face, and the scales along my neck warmed in a way that had nothing to do with fire. “You will not relay...”
"Too late," Pyra sang. "She’s glad you enjoy her body, by the way."
“Pyra,” I snapped.
She laughed again, unrepentant. "Relax. I can help if you want."
Vaelrith leaned closer, practically vibrating with interest. "Help how?"
"I can relay," she said simply. "Back and forth. Until the bond forms. If it does."
My breath caught. That changed everything.
Gryn sobered first. "That would be… useful."
Dryn nodded. "And dangerous."
Pyra tilted her head, studying us all. "She’s afraid, you know. Excited, and furious, also hopeful. All at once.
My chest tightened at that.
“Tell her,” I said before I could stop myself, then clenched my jaw. “Tell her I am trying. Even if I don’t know how yet.”
Pyra’s fire softened, and her voice became gentler. "I will."
Vaelrith hummed, satisfied. The twins sent me a wave of amusement and something like approval. And for the first time since she’d taken flight, since she’d shattered every rule I lived by, I felt something settle in my chest.
Not control. Not certainty. But connection.
And the gods help me, I suspected that would be far more dangerous.
\~~~~~
An hour later....
The air changed before the ground did.
I felt it first in my chest, like a subtle tightening, the way the world draws a breath before violence. The scent beneath the snow shifted from clean frost to iron, ash, and old magic. Vaelrith stirred, and my scales itched beneath my skin.
"We are close," he rumbled. "This place bled. I do not like the energy."
I angled my wings, banking toward a narrow clearing tucked between the frost covered pines. Gryn and Dryn followed without question, and their massive shadows swept over the ground.
“Pyra,” I said aloud, then focused, directing the thought toward the phoenix circling above us in a blaze of red and violet. “Tell Rhea we’re near. We’ll land here.”
Her reply came bright and immediate, threaded with excitement. "She feels it too."
Of course she did.
We descended together, our wings beating slower, and controlled. I hit the ground first, and my claws gouged shallow furrows into the frozen earth. The twins landed beside me in perfect symmetry, and snow erupted around their haunches.
Rhea followed.
She spiraled down in a controlled burn of fire and light, then folded inward midair, and the flames collapsed into skin in a heartbeat. She landed lightly on her feet, bare and unashamed. Her breath was steady, and her eyes were already scanning.
I exhaled sharply and shrugged my cloak from my shoulders, stepping forward to wrap it around her before she could say a word.
She looked up at me with that wicked grin that made restraint feel like a dying art. “You dragons are very prudish for creatures who live in volcanoes.”
“You are reckless,” I said flatly, cinching the cloak closed. “And loud. And stubborn. And .”
“...naked?” she offered helpfully.
Vaelrith huffed with unmistakable pleasure.
"She is perfect," he said, sounding satisfied.
I growled under my breath. “You are not helping.”
Her grin only widened. Then she went still.
The shift was immediate and unsettling. One second she was all heat and humor, the next she dropped into a crouch, and her fingers brushed the snow. Her eyes went sharp and distant. The world narrowed around her focus.
So this was the infamous Ghost.
I watched, intrigued despite myself, as she moved with practiced ease. She traced disturbed frost, pointed out broken twigs, and located a drag mark half-hidden beneath powder. She followed a trail I hadn’t even noticed. Her body remained low, controlled, and it was obvious she was deadly.
Impressive. And yes, arousing, in a way that had nothing to do with skin and everything to do with competence.
“She’s found something,” Dryn murmured.
“I see it,” I replied, and my eyes never left her.
She rose slowly and pointed down a narrow path between the trees. “They took cover fast. Not sloppy. Not civilians.”
Rebels. I turned slightly, murmuring to the twins, “We wait here. If this was bait, they’ll spring it when we move.”
I turned back and Rhea was already gone, heading down the path. I dug my fingers into my temples and groaned. "Ok, we remain here while she scopes things out. They can't be far."
A few minutes passed and we began to pace restlessly. She still hadn't returned. Vaelrith growled low, "Something is wrong."
I felt it too late. Gryn groaned from behind me as a sharp clicking sound filled the air. We all froze in place.
Then the ground snapped.
Magic flared beneath my feet, ancient and vicious. Thick, rune-etched nets erupted from beneath the snow, surging upward in a flash of blue-white light. They wrapped around my torso and wings before I could react, slamming me hard to the ground.
Gryn and Dryn went down with thunderous roars, equally ensnared. I tried to shift.
Nothing. Vaelrith slammed against the inside of my skull, furious, but the magic held. Suppression. This was old magic.
“Rhea!” I roared.
Figures rose from the treeline, dozens of them, with their weapons raised, and their faces hidden behind scarves and masks. Human. Armed. Terrified and determined in equal measure.
Then the sky screamed.
Fire tore downward in a violent spiral as Rhea dive-bombed the clearing, her phoenix form bright with fury. Heat blasted outward, and the snow flashed to steam. She hit the ground between us and the rebels, and the flames collapsed into her human form in a burst of sparks.
She stood there shaking with rage, her eyes glowing, her hair wild, and my cloak falling open.
“Let them go,” she shouted. “Right. Now.”
Every weapon froze. A female voice broke the silence.
“Rhea?”
She turned. A woman pushed through the rebels. Her dark hair was pulled back, and her eyes were wide and wet with disbelief.
“Maris,” Rhea breathed.
They collided in the next heartbeat, and Rhea folded her into a fierce embrace. Laughter and something dangerously close to tears broke from her chest.
“You’re alive,” Maris choked. “We thought you were...”
“I know,” Rhea said, gripping her tighter. “I know.”
The rest of them stared. Commander Solen stepped forward slowly, and his eyes flicked from Rhea to me and the twins bound in the snow, then back to her. “What in all the gods’ names…?”
Rhea pulled back, squared her shoulders, and turned to face them, with her fire still whispering beneath her skin.
“Long story,” she said. “Short version? These dragons aren’t your enemy.”
A murmur rippled through the rebels. Confusion, shock, and a whole lot of fear. I watched her then, truly watched her, standing unarmed between two worlds, and refusing to flinch.
Vaelrith went still inside me, awed.
"She stands where none should," he murmured. "Without hesitation Korr....and the world pauses to listen."
The nets cut into my scales as I strained forward. My heart was hammering, and every instinct I had was screaming to protect her.
And for the first time since I’d known her, I understood something with terrifying clarity.
This woman did not need my protection.