Page 40 of Scorched By Fate

Sanity should’ve returned by now, except it hadn’t. I’d crossed every boundary I had no right to touch … and still, it wasn’t enough. The heat pulling tight through me hadn’t dulled; it didn’t burn out the way it should have. If anything … it burned sharper now. Hungrier.

Mine.

Mate.

It wasn’t something quiet anymore. The word crawled red-hot through every breath, every nerve, an ache gnawing sharp at the center of my chest. I hadn’t said it aloud. I didn’t need to. Every time my fingers skimmed delicate bones beneath too-fragile skin, I came closer to losing the leash entirely.

She wasn’t just mine. She washer—stubborn, maddeningly human, and so gorgeously unbreaking she made all of Volcaryth look brittle by comparison. No molten river could claim her, no volcanic ridge could match her stubborn, radiance. And she still didn’t know, did she?

Selene tilted her head, a soft brush of her temple against the dip of my collarbone. Heat sparked, unbidden and familiar where her pulse beat. My throat locked around the need coiled there, wrapping tight through sinew and muscle. Every part of me wanted to take more—to feelmore—but instead, my fingers eased into that moment.

I forced myself still. Anything less threatened whatever frayed balance I’d clawed back. The whisper of her name burned against my tongue, bitter smoke tight at the edges. If I’d let it slip now, if I’d told her?—

Forge save me, I wanted to tell her.

If she saw everything unraveling in me now, she’d never believe it. The truth. That no ridge, no fault line, no uncharted piece of this godless terrain could break me half as easily as she could.

And if I wasn’t careful … shewould.

“I canfeelyou thinking,” Selene muttered, her voice soft and frayed at the edges, though laced with a bit of humor. Her hand nudged weakly at my chest—not a push, not even close, but strong enough to pull my focus back to her because of course she’d notice.

Of courseshewould find space to tease even now.

I blinked down at her, the corners of my mouth twitching despite myself. “You should be sleeping.”

“So should you.”

I tilted my head. “Are you fussing at me?”

My claws shifted against her hip, the motion careful, restrained. She didn’t pull away. Didn’t stiffen. But she did look up at me, eyes catching reflections of distant light. The glow carved firelight into her expression, pulling tight against every stubborn edge of her.

“You’re impossible,” she muttered. The softness beneath the words caught somewhere deeper—fragile, not from weakness, but from something she wouldn’t offer easily.

“And you’re still here,” I replied.

Selene snorted, though the sound lacked edge. Fragile. Tirelessly human. The tension between us dulled—not into emptiness, but into something quieter. Something heavier. It settled there, like this volatile mountain ridge couldn’t shift it.

Her head tilted, gaze slipping past me toward the expanse of Volcaryth unfolding just beyond the crumbled plateau. The landscape was vicious in its beauty, a sprawling labyrinth of broken black rock and shimmering heat. The rivers oflava threading veins deep into the mountains glowed, casting distorted shadows across her sharp features.

“What is this place to you?” she asked quietly, her voice tinged with something sincere enough to unbalance me.

I stilled.

My focus cut away from her face, following the long spires of dark peaks breaking against the stifling haze. Her tone was soft but unflinching, brushing against the edges of something I hadn’t intended to acknowledge.

“It’s a proving ground,” I said finally. “There was a time when young Drakarn warriors who thought they’d finished their training came here. The Harrovan Mountains are cruel, but surviving them …” My claws flexed against her side. “The ones who came back weren’t just warriors anymore.”

“It’s different now,” I continued. The weight tightened in my chest before I could stop it, rougher than the air clawing its way through the rocky expanse under us. “The terrain is too unstable. Fewer came back. And Ignarath has expanded their territory; we're not far from the border.” My thumb moved along the curve of her waist. “They would not take kindly to this mission."

Her lips parted, not in argument, but with questions lining the space between us. She didn’t ask them.

Her head shifted, brushing against my chin. I should have held her still, anchored her completely into this moment before her restless thoughts took her another direction. But I couldn’t bring myself to do it—not when it was Selene, not when her fire kept breaking apart things I thought I’d buried long ago.

She settled back against me, and her soft, shallow breaths melted into an even sleep.

I sat there for awhile before finally, my own eyelids drooped, and I joined her in the peace of slumber.

Then it shattered.

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