Page 16 of Fire's Storm
“Let’s go, Storm dragon,” the enforcer growls.
"Where are we going?" she asks, taking in her surroundings with the analytical assessment of a professional.
"To see the only dragons who can ensure your safety," I answer grimly. "The Guardian."
We are guided through soaring passageways carved from living stone. Crystal formations illuminate our path, brightening as we pass, responding to our combined electrical signature. My hand remains on the small of her back, a point of contact I can't seem to relinquish. With each step, I find myself scanning for threats, nostrils flaring to detect any approaching dragons, body angling slightly to keep her partially behind me.
Phoenix takes it all in with wide eyes, her mind clearly mapping our route, noting potential escape paths, analyzing the structure. Even in an impossible situation, she thinks like the leader she is.
"How many of you live here?" she asks, her gaze following a group of young dragons practicing flight maneuvers in a vast central cavern we pass.
"I am not from this clan, but last I heard, only several hundred," I reply. "Down from thousands before The Sundering."
"The Sundering?"
"A cataclysm that nearly destroyed our kind," I explain briefly. "It happened centuries ago. We're still recovering."
The grand council chamber stands empty when we arrive—a vast cavern with a central platform surrounded by seven ornate stone chairs.
"The council isn't in session," comes a strong voice from the chamber entrance.
I turn to face who can only be the Guardian, Raak Stormclaw. Silver-blue scales cover Raak's forearms completely, extending up his neck to frame a face marked with the distinctive facial ridges of alpha leadership.
"I didn't come for the full council," I respond, positioning myself slightly in front of Phoenix in instinctive protection. "Just you."
Raak enters the chamber fully, moving with the controlled grace of a warrior. His posture reveals nothing, but I can smell the anger radiating from him. The slight electrical charge in the air around him betrays his emotional state to anyone with storm sensitivity.
"Bringing a human to Emberhold breaks our most sacred law," he states, each word precise, controlled. "This crosses every line. Her mind must be erased."
"She's not human," I counter, electricity crackling between my fingers as my own emotions surge. The crystals nearest me brighten, responding to the energy spike. "Not entirely. Scent her yourself if you don't believe me."
Raak's nostrils flare as he draws in Phoenix's scent, his eyes widening slightly in the only betrayal of his surprise. His gaze sharpens, reassessing her with new intensity.
"Partial dragon markers," he acknowledges reluctantly. "But still predominantly human. Still forbidden. She must be?—"
"She carries Tempest genetics," I press, fighting to keep my voice level as electricity intensifies around me. "The bond has already been initiated. You know what that means."
At this, genuine shock registers on Raak's features. His rigid control slips.
"Impossible. The Tempest line is of full-blooded dragons. No human can survive the bonding process. Nature will not allow such a union."
"Apparently so," Phoenix interjects, stepping forward despite my protective stance. Her copper hair floats slightly with static electricity, small blue sparks visible at her fingertips—unconscious manifestations of her awakening abilities. "And I'd appreciate being talked to rather than about."
Raak's expression shifts from shock to calculation as he observes her authoritative stance—a leader among humans accustomed to command, now standing unflinching before a dragon in partial shift.
"You have no idea what you've become involved in, human."
"Phoenix," she corrects firmly, chin lifting in a subtle challenge. "Fire Captain Phoenix Ward. And I'm getting a rather clear picture."
The corner of Raak's mouth twitches—not quite amusement, but recognition of her unexpected courage. His attention returns to me, expression hardening once more.
"Even if what you claim is true, the law remains. No humans in Emberhold. Half-breeds included."
"The bond supersedes clan law," I argue, electricity intensifying around me as my control slips further. "I’m sure you, of all dragons, know the ancient texts as well as I do."
"I do,” Raak dismisses with a wave of his hand. "Do you know how many ‘Tempest Bond’ claims have come to us since the notice went out? Your words are not sufficient to break laws that have kept our kind safe for millennia."
"Then perhaps I can provide current evidence," comes a female voice from the chamber entrance.
