Page 65 of Scorched By Fate

“Is this about the human?” Khorlar asked, finally.

My grip tightened around the hammer, claws scraping against the worn handle. “She has a name.”

He inclined his head, unruffled by my sharp tone. “Selene,” he corrected. “Another human mate?”

I slammed the hammer down, and the blade cracked under the impact. I tossed the hammer and the ruined blade aside.

“You don’t know a damned thing about it.”

He let out a low snort. “I haven't suggested that I do.”

Fury flared, but I caught myself. This wasn’t just anger—it was fear, an old enemy wearing a new face. “She made her desires, or lack thereof, very clear.”

"Do you think that sound doesn't carry in a canyon? Because what I heard wasn't a lack of desire."

He was lucky I'd dropped the hammer. Rage flared hot and fast. He hadno rightto hear what sounds my mate made when I gave her pleasure, no right to intrude or say a word about it.

My heart thumped in a ragged rhythm, answering a call deeper than logic. Selene was mine—even if she doubted it.

"Leave me." I didn't need his prying or his opinion. Khorlar had no love for the humans, and if he spoke one sour word about my mate, I'd be forced to test the ruined blade sitting in the discard pile.

He hesitated for a moment before doing as I asked.

I closed my eyes and swallowed hard. I was hitting the wrong target. No amount of metal would shape itself into glass. Thunder rumbled in me, a pulse of longing that tasted like desperation.

Sweat dripped from my brow, the forge’s heat melding with the searing temperature of my own blood. My temples pounded, but this time, I let the ache in, forced myself to feel it. If I was going to fight for Selene, I needed every ounce of pain, every shred of need. This bond was stupid, maddening, and the only thing that felt real.

My heart lurched as her scent tickled my nose. I thought it was a phantom at first, but she stood in the doorway, haloed by the forge's angry glow.

She looked exhausted—hair tousled, worry lines carved into her brow—but her gaze was steady on mine. She smelled likethe healing caverns: herbs, sweat, and under it all was justher. Something I wanted to drown in.

Selene and I stood there, the forge sputtering sparks that died in the hush between us. When she finally spoke, her voice had the rough scrape of resolve and heartbreak. “I think we should talk.”

I forced a breath, setting my shoulders. “All right,” I managed.

Everything in me wanted to yank her close and demand she believe that she was mine, that I’d keep her safe. But I held back. I had to.

It was hell.

Her arms were wrapped around herself like a shield. The light highlighted the tired circles beneath her eyes. I hated knowing I was part of why they were there.

“Yesterday …,” she said softly, “Vyne, I—" she huffed out a breath. "We've known each other for a week, and you tried to take over my life like you owned it."

My immediate instinct was to argue. I dug my fangs into my tongue until I tasted copper. I wouldn't mess this up again. Not now. Not with her.

She swallowed hard. “My entire life flipped on its head the second I ended up here. And every time I think I’m adjusting, something else breaks under my feet. Everyone freaked the fuck out with Orla and Rath. And don't think I haven't heard what people whisper about Darrokar and Terra. You and I, it's …”

"It's real." I wasn't going to push, but I couldn't let this go. "I told myself to stay away. I tried. Gods below, I tried." I took half a step forward and forced myself to stop. "Do you think I want to bring trouble to you?"

I could almost taste the fear behind her anger, the vulnerability she tried so hard to hide. My claws twitched,itching to grab her and prove how real it was. But I’d come too close before, only to see her shut down from the weight of it.

I stepped forward until only a breath separated us. Softly, I cupped her chin, forcing her gaze up to mine. “I'm your mate,Zhyvarin,” I said, letting every thread of truth coil in my voice. “It means someone in this gods-forsaken world will fight for you, bleed for you … die for you, if that’s what it takes.”

Her lip quivered, and for a moment, I was sure she’d bolt. But she stayed.

“The others need me,” she whispered, as if it were an apology. “I can’t allow myself to be distracted, not when people are dying, when?—”

“Selene,” her name was a vow. “I don’t want to strip you of your responsibilities. I just want to stand beside you while you fulfill them. Let me.”

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