Page 43 of Tempest Blazing
"Where are we going?"The thought came out broken, my mental voice barely a whisper.
"Somewhere safe,"Thalon replied, steady as always in my mind."Rest, little one. You've been through enough."
Below us, the city bled into forest. Lights scattered, then disappeared entirely. I caught glimpses of the library's towers, but we weren't heading there. The obsidian dragon banked toward what looked like empty wilderness—trees stretching forever in all directions.
Then something shifted. A strange tingling as we passed through invisible barriers. The dragon's flight didn't change, but the darkness around us thickened, turned protective. Wards. Powerful ones that made my skin crawl with recognition.
"Someone's watching,"Thalon's voice carried an edge."I can sense magical surveillance—they might have tracked our flight path."
My heart dropped. After everything, were we still being hunted?
"I'll lead them away,"he decided, mental voice going hard with resolve."The obsidian one will get you to safety."
"Thalon, no—" The words barely made it past my throat.
"Trust me, little one. I'll find you again soon."
I felt him pull away—not severing our connection but muffling it, like curtains drawn across bright windows. Then his golden form wheeled into the night, flying in the opposite direction, flames flickering like bait designed to draw hunters.
The obsidian dragon continued toward a house nestled in a forest clearing. Not large—two stories, warm light spilling from windows—but something about it felt ancient. Protected. The wards we'd passed through were centered here, creating a bubble of safety in the wilderness.
We landed with surprising gentleness, the dragon's claws barely disturbing the soft earth. Draven's arms tightened around me as we touched down, his magic pulsing—checking for injuries, scanning for damage he might have missed.
"Easy," he murmured against my hair. "We're safe now."
The obsidian dragon lowered itself, and Draven slid down first before reaching up to help me. My legs nearly gave out the moment my feet touched ground. Adrenaline finally fading. Everything hurt—my throat where the collar had been, my ribs where they'd kicked me, my head from whatever drug they'd used to keep me compliant.
But then something extraordinary happened.
The obsidian dragon's form began to shimmer, scales rippling like water. Shadow and substance blurred, the massive shape condensing, reshaping until—
Ciaran stood before us, silver eyes gleaming, tousled black-and-white hair falling across his forehead. He was breathing hard, as if the transformation had cost him, pale skin glowing faintly in the moonlight.
"Ciaran?" I stared, my exhausted brain struggling to catch up. "You're... you can..."
"A dragon shifter," he said simply, voice carrying that familiar intensity. "Among other things."
Any other time, this would have blown my mind. A Shadow Fae who could shift into dragon form? The implications were staggering. But right now, with my body screaming and my magic still raw, I could barely muster surprise.
Ciaran stepped forward and scooped me up before I could protest, lifting me with careful strength. "Let's get you inside, a rúnsearc. You need healing."
The house's front door opened before we reached it, responding to some signal I couldn't detect. The interior was warm and welcoming—comfortable furniture around a stone fireplace, bookshelves lining the walls. It felt lived-in but not cluttered, like a sanctuary that had been waiting for us.
Ciaran carried me down a short hallway to a bedroom with a large bed covered in soft quilts. He set me down gently on the edge, and I had to grip the bedframe to keep from swaying.
Kane appeared in the doorway, white hair disheveled, his usually pristine appearance showing signs of battle. His blue-violet eyes swept over me with clinical assessment, and I saw his jaw tighten at whatever he observed.
"I can do some preliminary healing until we can get you proper medical attention," Kane said, settling beside me on the bed. His eyes were dark with concern as he studied my face.
I nodded, not trusting my voice. The reality was starting to sink in—the kidnapping, the collar, the arena. I'd been completely helpless. The thought made my stomach churn with something deeper than nausea.
Kane stepped closer, his expression shifting to controlled anger as he approached. "The collar did more damage than just blocking your magic. There's residual dark energy in your system, and several injuries are deeper than they appear."
His hands already beginning to glow with elemental power. "This won't be comfortable, but it should stabilize you until we can do more comprehensive healing."
I lay back against the pillows, closing my eyes as Kane's magic washed over me. It felt like cool water and warm sunlight combined, his elemental affinities working together to knit damaged tissue and purge lingering traces of dark magic. But even his considerable power could only do so much—this was battlefield medicine, not a cure.
The healing magic pulled at something deep inside me, and exhaustion crashed over me like a wave. My consciousness started to fray, darkness creeping in from all sides.
