Page 12 of Echoes of Fire

There is no unclaiming.

“Drakarn don’t fake bond-marks. That tongue thing he did?” She fanned herself exaggeratedly. “Hot damn.”

I hated how my cheeks flamed.

Terra’s boots swung inches above the floor, the casual motion at odds with the tension in her voice. “The Blade Council tolerates us because Darrokar’s mate-bond gives me standing. But Karyseth’s faction?” She tapped her fingernails against the table, each click echoing like a gunshot. “They’ve been itching for an excuse to purge ‘weakness’ from Scalvaris. You just handed them a flamethrower.”

I traced a fracture in the stone, my nail catching on microcrystalline edges. “So the solution is … what? Let Rath keep pretending we’re soulmates?” The word tasted absurd, like trying to swallow a neutron star. “There have to be protocols for cultural misunderstandings. Mediated dialogues?—”

“This isn’t a UN summit.” Terra hopped down, boots scraping against the floor. “This is their holy law. Either the bond’s real, or it’s heresy. No third option.” She gripped my shoulders, her callouses catching on torn fabric. “If the Forge Temple can prove this is a sham? They’ll execute you. Thenthey’ll come for the rest of us, arguing humans corrupt their warriors’ honor.”

“Rath said the claim was permanent. That there’s no undoing it.”

“Because there isn’t.” Terra’s gaze drifted to the silks pooled on the sleeping slab. “Drakarn bonds aren’t human. Darrokar nearly ripped a warrior’s throat out for brushing against me during the monsoon feasts.” Her eyes raked over the fresh scab on my lip. “When Rath tasted you …”

Heat flooded my cheeks again. “It was nothing.”

“Bullshit.” She released me to pace past Rath’s arsenal, fingers trailing over a curved blade.

The memory of his tongue flicking my collarbone ignited phantom static across my skin. “He called me a problem.”

“And stared at you like you’re a damned supernova.” Terra spun a dagger, the edge catching firelight. “Bond-marks are … physical. Biological. Believe me; I know. The council could demand proof.” Her gaze dropped to my neck, where Rath’s tongue had left invisible burns. “If they test you?—”

“Test?” The word curdled in my stomach. I pressed a hand to the scar below my ear, still humming with phantom heat. “What kind of test?”

The door groaned before she could answer. Rath filled the archway, his scales dulled to burnt umber in the low light. A leather satchel hung from his claw, spilling familiar items—my scanner, a bundle of rock samples, the cracked remains of my field goggles. And some clothes. He set it down with surprising care, the contents clinking.

“Your possessions,” he rumbled. “Including this.” From his belt, he produced my journal—singed but intact, its pages warped from fire.

I lunged forward, snatching it before logic intervened. The leather cover was a bit scorched. “You stole this from the pyre?”

His tail twitched. “Salvaged. Before the final blaze.”

The admission startled me. I flipped through crackling pages—sketches of ventilation shafts intact, soil pH tables legible beneath soot stains. My throat tightened. “Thank you.”

Rath inclined his head, the gesture almost courtly. “Of course,shyrarva.”

The alien word pricked like a splinter. “I have a name.”

“We’ll talk about this more later,” Terra said before Rath and I could get into it. “Just stay strong. Sell this bond.” She turned toward the door and paused before looking back. “If you need someone to talk this out, you know where I live.”

“My mate can speak with me,” Rath growled.

Terra and I both rolled our eyes.

“Thanks,” I told her. “I’ll think about what you said.”

As if I could think about anything else.

I needed to sit.The adrenaline crash had settled into an ache in my skull. I crossed the room, wanting distance from him, and dropped onto the corner stone bench. The basalt was cold beneath me despite the warmth radiating off the chamber walls.

I gripped the edge of the bench and pressed my palms tight against its rough surface. My mind played the scene from the temple again, unspooling every scream and snarl until I winced. The memory of Karyseth’s claws swiping inches from my chest made my pulse race. My body ached from running, from falling, from everything.

“You should take the bed,” Rath’s voice broke the silence. It carried low and steady, like the rumble of distant magma.

I looked up. He was standing near the platform, his tail coiled tightly behind him, his claws flexing in and out. The lines ofhis face were rigid—the air of a creature used to commanding obedience—but his tone had softened. “You need rest.”

I shook my head, trying for a semblance of control. “I’ll make do here.”

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