Page 21 of Scorched By Fate

Selene's steps faltered briefly, her boot snagging over an irregular break in the rock, and for a moment, her weight pitched forward. My arm shot out before my brain caught up, steadying her without finesse until she was flattened against my chest.

I let her go quickly, but it was useless. The tunnel narrowed again, forcing her step closer to mine. As her arm brushed mine for the second time, any rational thought left unraveled, fraying at the edges faster than I could hide it.

Her scent burned sharper now. It wrapped around me in the confines of the tunnel, teasing the fragile chain of control I’d forced around my instincts since the moment I’d first tasted the air near her.

For the forge's sake.

My gaze dropped briefly, catching the subtle shift of her shoulders—the sharp cut of bone against her skin, her frame wound just tightly enough that I could feel her bracing for something invisible but inescapable. She wore her strength like armor, too heavy in some places, but almost too worn near others. And it only made the ache inside me twist deeper.

Damn it all.

I fixed my stare forward again, unwilling to crumble under the instinct clawing against sense. There wasn’t space here—not now, not in this tunnel, not anywhere between us for what my body sought so painfully.

The tunnel’s oppressive grip finally began to loosen as light from the end—faint and pale, but unmistakable—glimmered ahead. My steps slowed.

Selene caught my hesitation, her own movements faltering briefly before she drew up alongside me. Her breathing was quieter now, steadier, though her stance remained sharp-edged, like she was bracing for whatever lay just beyond our line of sight.

She stepped forward, her boot scratching against the stone as she moved closer to the growing glow. The dim warmth of the rising suns had started to bleed into the cool blue hue of the crystals, casting flickering shadows that danced along the rough walls. The air felt lighter here, cooler, though brimming with a strange tension that hummed beneath the surface like unseen currents.

I moved up beside her, wings rustling as they adjusted to the wider space. I took a moment to savor the more open space, but only for a moment. I didn't want her to think I was hesitating.

Selene looked out over the distant horizon. Quiet tension radiated off her. “It’s beautiful,” she said softly, almost as though the words weren’t meant for me to hear.

“It's beautiful, but it burns,” I responded. Even with my scales, the surface of Volcaryth was unkind.

She didn’t look at me. “I figured as much.”

The steep drop from the tunnel mouth to the terrain below yawned open just steps away. The winds swirled through the air, teasing the edges of my wings.

“You’re not afraid of heights,” I said, more statement than question. Her steady stance told me as much.

“No.” Her response was clipped, matter-of-fact. But she still glanced at the distance below with a narrowed gaze. “But that doesn't mean I'm not cautious. It's not like I have wings.”

“That’s why you have me.”

She blinked, finally turning toward me. Her lips curved, though the humor in her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Are you always this reassuring?”

“Only when it’s warranted.”

“Lucky me.” Her tone softened, faint amusement lacing her exhaustion.

I stepped closer. The rock beneath my feet shifted, but I ignored it, wings flaring as I gestured toward the open sky beyond the ledge.

“Get closer,” I said, my voice cool, though something in my chest twisted as her gaze flicked toward me with an oddly suspicious arch of her brow.

Her jaw tensed, but she didn’t argue. Instead, she inhaled sharply through her nose, muttering something under her breath that sounded like either a curse or a prayer. Then she stepped closer to the edge of the tunnel. Her frame was still as strong as ever, but I caught the flicker of hesitation in her stance as she glanced one last time at the drop awaiting her.

I opened my wings fully, the stretch of them casting shifting shadows that sliced across the rock at our feet. The motion forced her step closer, keeping her within reach. I extended anarm, my claws flexing briefly before curling tightly against the leather guard at my wrist.

“Don’t flinch.”

Her eyes narrowed. “What?—?”

Before she could finish, my arm circled firmly around her waist. It wasn’t rough—precisely measured, controlled, but undeniably close. I pulled her against me as my other arm moved to steady her back, claws grazing just briefly against the strap of her pack. My wings closed, angling around her frame without fully enveloping her. Not yet. I wrapped my tail around her legs to keep her as close as possible.

Selene stiffened, her breath catching at the contact. Her hands instinctively shot to the front of my armor, gripping the edges of the leather as her stance fought against faltering completely.

“This is practical,” I offered, though my voice was rougher than intended. She didn’t need to know how much it cost me to keep my control. “For both our sakes.”

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