Page 58 of Fire's Storm
He throws a possessive arm around me. "You're under my protection," he tells the approaching medics, voice brooking no argument. "My mate has this handled."
His pride washes over me—not just in my quick action to save him, but in my controlled response to the attack. We've demonstrated not just power today, but discipline. Not just ability, but restraint.
As we make our way slowly from the courtyard, I feel the eyes of the entire clan upon us. But the whispers have changed. Fear remains, but now it's mixed with something new—respect.
"They meant to break us," I observe, my thoughts reaching him. "Instead they forced our adaptation."
His agreement resonates within me—his understanding of evolutionary principles despite the pain still radiating from his wound.
The truth becomes undeniable—every attempt to oppose us has only made our bond stronger. Challenge sharpens our abilities instead of dulling them; adversity reinforces our partnership instead of breaking it.
What we share now goes beyond anything it was at the start. The connection is deeper, the strength greater, the resilience far beyond what it once was—all because we’ve endured together.
I see the irony clearly. Our enemies think they’ve weakened us, but in reality, they’ve fortified us. The traditionalists believe our bond is damaged, when in truth it has only grown more unshakable.
The realization fills me with both satisfaction and joy. Their sabotage has given us an advantage. Their opposition has deepened our relationship. Together, we stand not as victims of attack, but as partners made stronger through every trial.
That night, in the privacy of our quarters, I tend to Vulcan's wound. The antidote has neutralized the poison, but the entry point remains angry and raw, refusing to heal with normal dragon speed.
"Designed specifically to target bond energy," he explains through gritted teeth as I clean the wound. "Disrupts the accelerated healing that comes from our connection."
My fingers tremble slightly as I apply healing salve to the injury. "You shouldn't have blocked it. I could have defended myself."
A growl vibrates through his chest. He moves without warning, covering my body with his. His teeth graze my throat—not breaking skin, but leaving no question of intent. "You belong to me," he rumbles against my pulse. "And I protect what's mine."
"My dragon. My right to fight alongside, not behind." I meet his gaze directly, refusing to back down. "Partnership means neither of us sacrifices while the other watches. We face threats together."
He studies me, eyes gradually softening from stubbornness to something warmer. "You've changed," he observes, reaching up to trace the scale pattern now clearly visible along my jawline. "Not just physically."
I know what he means. The attack crystallized something inside me—an acceptance of what I'm becoming, a embracing of this new identity that's neither fully human nor fully dragon, but something unique and powerful in its own right.
"I'm done fighting what I am," I tell him, my hands steady now as they finish dressing his wound. "Done pretending I can go back to my old life. Done wishing things were simpler."
My fingers trace the familiar pattern of a medical bandage, the same technique I'd used countless times on injured firefighters in the field. The motion grounds me, a bridge between who I was and who I'm becoming.
"When I was ten," I continue, surprising myself with the memory, "I rewired our entire garage because the lights kept flickering. My foster parents found me halfway through andfreaked out, sure I'd electrocute myself. But I knew—somehow I just knew—exactly how the electricity wanted to flow."
I look down at my hands, now faintly glimmering with blue-white energy even at rest. "I've always been this. I just didn't have the words for it."
His eyes darken with intensity. "And what are you, Phoenix Ward?"
"Yours," I answer without hesitation. "But also my own. Something new. Something they didn't expect and can't control."
He pulls me closer with his uninjured arm, his heat enveloping me like a physical caress. "Do you know what I saw today, when you contained the poison with your electricity?"
I shake my head.
"I saw what they truly fear." His voice drops to a rumble. "Not chaos, but order. Not destruction, but creation. Not weakness, but strength they can't match or understand."
His lips find mine in a kiss that starts gently but quickly intensifies as our bond flares between us. Electricity dances across our skin where we touch, visible energy expressing invisible connection.
Our thoughts merge—his desire fusing with my need, his passion mingling with my longing, his hunger blending with my craving in perfect harmony despite recent disruption.
"You should rest," I murmur against his mouth, though my body thrums with wanting him. "Your wound?—"
"Will heal," he finishes, his good hand already working at the fastenings of my clothing. "But this need won't wait."
Together we move toward our bed, clothing discarded along the way. His body covers mine with protective heat, his larger frame making me feel sheltered without being smothered.
