Page 7 of Tempest Blazing
I stopped dead, my hand flying to my pocket where I'd tucked the parchment away. "You're right. I'd been so focused on the Guild tattoo that I almost forgot." I pulled out the crumpled document, my fingers trembling as I smoothed it. "This mentions something called the Concordance Matrix. If someone's trying to apply it..."
"The Matrix is an ancient spell woven into the very foundation of the Library,"Thalon explained."It governs the bonds between dragons and their chosen riders—how they form, how deep they run, how they can be... influenced. In the wrong hands, it could be used to control or even sever those connections."
The parchment crinkled in my suddenly sweaty grip. "Control bonds? You mean someone could force a dragon to bond with a specific person? Or break existing bonds?"
"Precisely. And if they succeed in manipulating it, every partnership in the Library could be at risk."
I turned back to face Mason, ice forming in my chest. "I'm going to research the Concordance Matrix—find out if it's connected to the Heart of Creation. If it influences the bonding process, then tampering with it could affect every dragon and rider. I need to understand why the Library chose me, why Thalon chose me."
My hands clenched into fists. "And if there are infiltrators inside our own organizations—people who wear our insignia while working against us—then the only way forward is to build our own circle."
His dark eyes sharpened. "What kind of circle?"
I took a steadying breath. "I need people I can trust completely."
Mason's smile was fierce and proud. "I'm with you. Whatever you need."
Relief hit me so hard I nearly staggered. But beneath it, fear coiled like a snake. Fear for him, fear for what we might be walking into together.
"We'll need more than just us," I admitted. "One dragon and two rider applicants against an entire conspiracy... it's not enough."
"We need allies," Mason agreed. "People we can trust completely."
That's when the shadows moved wrong.
Magic crackled across my skin, raising every hair on my arms. A tingle sparked in my fingertips—my magic stirring at the sudden shift in the shadows. But before I could react, Ciaran stepped out of the darkness as if he'd been part of it all along.
Tall. Lean. Dangerous. That unsettling combination of pale skin and silver eyes that seemed to see too much. His black-and-white hair was tousled, like he'd been running his hands through it, and he moved with the fluid grace of a predator.
"Apologies for the intrusion," he said, his voice doing things to my pulse that I absolutely didn't have time for. "But I couldn't help overhearing."
Mason shot to his feet so fast his chair scraped against the stone floor. "What the hell are you doing here?"
Ciaran's silver eyes flicked to Mason, then back to me. "I've been following Tess since the infiltration. Watching over her. I couldn't show myself during the Council security debacle—too many eyes, too many questions. But I won't leave her unprotected."
"You've been following me…" Of course he had. At this point, I'd have been more surprised if he hadn't been tracking my every move. Heat flared in my chest—anger mixed with something I didn't want to name.
"Protecting you," Ciaran corrected, taking a step closer. "There's a difference."
Mason moved between us, every muscle coiled tight. "Back off. Now."
Ciaran's smile was sharp as a blade. "I don't think so."
The temperature dropped like a stone. Magic crackled in the air—Mason's protective instincts flaring against whatever power Ciaran carried in his shadow-touched presence.
"You have no right to be here," Mason growled. "No right to watch her, to follow her—"
"Don't I?" Ciaran's voice was deceptively soft, steel wrapped in silk. "The mate-mark says otherwise. She's mine whether you like it or not."
Mine. The word hit me like a physical blow, stealing my breath. Heat coiled low in my belly.
Mason's hands clenched into fists. "She's not property to be claimed."
"No," Ciaran agreed, his silver eyes never leaving mine. "She's far more precious than that."
Thalon's growl shook the floor. The wards flared, casting everything in harsh blue light. Books rattled on their shelves, and I could feel the air itself trembling.
Everything balanced on a knife's edge.
