Page 30 of Fire's Storm
Phoenix.
Her name burns through my mind, igniting another involuntary surge. My midnight-blue scales emerge along my forearms as steam rises from my skin. My footsteps leave scorched imprints on the wooden floor.
"Fucking politics," I growl, the sound more beast than man.
The council claims separation before the trial is traditional. Necessary for "pure" demonstration. Bullshit. They fear what happens when two storm entities merge without supervision. They fearme—the unpredictable exile whose lightning once rendered entire caverns uninhabitable.
Phoenix's essence pulses across our strengthening bond—determination tinged with anxiety, the focus of a warrior preparing for battle. My temperature spikes in response. I pressmy palm against the stone wall, seeking relief. The rock sizzles, frost patterns forming and immediately melting in the battle between hot and cold.
My cock hardens, pressing painfully against my pants. The dragon within recognizes its mate, cares nothing for tradition or ceremony or waiting. It demands claiming. Now.
The door vibrates with three sharp knocks before swinging open. Raak stands in the doorway, silver eyes surveying the destruction. My nostrils flare involuntarily, catching his scent—stone and ash and the trace of his human mate. The contrast between his completion and my frustrated state ignites another surge across my skin.
"I see separation affects you as strongly as I figured," he comments, stepping inside without invitation. As guardian leader, he needs none.
"What do you want?" I don't bother concealing my state—scales covering exposed skin, eyes glowing electric blue, current dancing between my fingers.
"To ensure you understand what's at stake." His voice remains neutral though his scent betrays concern beneath political detachment. "The trial isn't merely about bond confirmation. It's about proving control."
The statement targets my deepest insecurity. Control. The quality that has eluded me for three centuries.
"My control is sufficient," I growl.
Another lamp explodes, undermining my claim spectacularly.
"The human?—"
"Phoenix," I correct sharply. My teeth extend at the disrespect.
"Phoenix," Raak amends, nostrils flaring slightly at my aggression, "will be at risk if your power surges during thedemonstration. Her hybrid physiology remains untested against a full storm discharge."
Ice replaces fire in my veins. I could hurt her. My chaotic nature, my volatile power—the very qualities that have isolated me—could damage the one being who has accepted me completely.
My claws extend involuntarily, piercing my palms. The sharp pain grounds me, blood dripping onto the floor. The copper tang mixes with ozone in the air.
"I won't hurt her." More prayer than promise.
"According to your clan elders, you've never been able to guarantee that before." Raak doesn't sugarcoat his words. Never has. "Not with anyone."
"This is different."
"Is it?" His silver eyes narrow. "Or are you simply desperate for it to be different?"
The accusation stings because it contains truth. Centuries of exile haven't erased my hunger for acceptance. For belonging. The weight of isolation presses against my chest, a constant companion I've endured for centuries.
"Leave," I demand, electricity crackling between my teeth.
To his credit, Raak doesn't flinch. "The trial begins soon. Be ready."
After he leaves, I stare at my hands. The scent of my blood fills my nostrils as I press my fingers against the wooden table. Within seconds, smoke rises. I jerk away, but too late—five charred fingerprints mar the surface.
Always destruction. Never creation.
As a child: a lightning storm inside the practice arena. The screams of injured young dragons. Their parents' faces—fear replacing respect, horror replacing acceptance.
As a young adult: lightning strikes through the council chamber. Ancient stone splitting. Irreplaceable records burningto ash. My father's cold disappointment, resignation replacing hope.
The last straw: an electrical field rendering an entire cavern uninhabitable. Mineral deposits fusing into glass. Unstable energy lingering in the walls. The final decision to exile me to the sanctuary's edge.
