Page 31 of Fire's Storm
Yet Phoenix looks at me differently. Not as dangerous but as powerful. Not as defective but as untamed. Not as something to fear but as someone to balance.
The memory of our first meeting floods my senses. The heart of that wildfire, her pupils dilating with recognition rather than fear. Her body responding to mine without permission, nipples hardening beneath her fire-resistant shirt, the sweet scent of desire reaching me through the smoke.
The thought of failing her sends another surge crackling across my skin, destroying the last intact light fixture. Darkness falls, broken only by the blue glow of my eyes and the current surrounding my form.
I sit on the floor and breathe deeply, trying to recall the ancient scrolls I smuggled into my cabin from the restricted archives during my years as the clan's historical record keeper. The position, meant as punishment, granted access to knowledge few dragons ever encountered.
The fragile parchments hold cryptic language about the Tempest Bond—diagrams of interwoven energy patterns and philosophical principles. Now, with Phoenix awakening my dormant connection, the texts demand new understanding.
"The Tempest paired seeks not dominance but harmony," I recall from my deep memory, ancient dragon language rolling off my tongue. "Not conquest but confluence, not subjugation but synchronization."
The words vibrate against the constant storm of my nature. Harmony. Balance. Foreign concepts.
My third eye recalls an illustration of two dragons surrounded by a perfect storm system, electricity connecting their forms. "Power unleashed destroys; power channeled creates."
Moonrise approaches. Nothing works. Physical exertion increases my power rather than stabilizing it. Practice discharges create destruction rather than precision. Isolation only intensifies the bond-need rather than clarifying focus.
A different approach is needed. Desperation drives invention when centuries of habit fail.
Sitting cross-legged on the floor, I’m surrounded by the wreckage of my frustration, and I close my eyes. Meditation—a practice I've always dismissed as useless.
My entire life, I've met chaos with more chaos. It has never worked. Brute force and physical exertion—exactly what the clan has always criticized me for. For her, I have to try something else. Something quiet. Something controlled.
"Find your center," the elders advised throughout my youth. As if a storm could have a center that wasn't violent.
Yet storms do have centers. The eye—the place of perfect calm amid swirling chaos. The calm around which destruction rotates but never touches.
I've never believed this place existed for a creature of pure chaos. But for Phoenix—for her safety—I must try.
My breathing slows deliberately, each exhale releasing smaller electrical discharges. The ozone scent fades incrementally. My heart pounds too fast for meditation. I focus on slowing it, counting between beats. One. Two. Three.
Beneath the chaos of surface thoughts, I feel it—the bond connection, stronger than proximity would suggest. Phoenix's energy signature pulses steady and determined, a beacon in my internal tempest.
I follow it deeper, tracking her essence through the tangled undergrowth of consciousness. Her energy carries a distinctive signature—controlled power rather than raw force, precision rather than chaos. Everything I lack. Everything I need.
The connection shifts suddenly, focusing directly on me as if she's deliberately reached across the bond. Not verbal or visual—but pure emotional essence.
She sends determination. Confidence. Trust.
The sensations flood my system—her essence surrounding me completely. Relief replaces anxiety.
Not alone in this. Not solely responsible. Partnership rather than individual burden.
For the first time since separating, my electrical discharge ceases completely. Silence replaces the constant crackling. My breathing steadies, my heart rate normalizes, my scales recede slightly.
The revelation shifts something fundamental. I've been preparing as an individual dragon, trying to impress the clan, trying to prove my worth, trying to demonstrate control I've never mastered.
I should be preparing as one half of a bonded pair.
The storm and eye together create the complete weather system.
I close my eyes again and sink deeper, guided by her presence. I don't fight the connection but embrace it, allowing her energy to intertwine with mine. My dragon half, typically restless and aggressive, settles into watchful stillness—alert but no longer destructive.
The time approaches, pale streams of light filtering through cracked windows as I emerge from the deepest meditation I've ever achieved.
The accomplishment means little compared to the revelation it facilitated. My motivation has transformed completely.
I had begun focused on myself—on proving the clan wrong, on demonstrating worthiness, on earning respect long denied.
