The sky over the Black Peak was no longer blue. It was a bruised purple, filled with the smoke of a hundred fires.
Down in the dark cell, I felt the ground shake. It wasn't a small tremor; it was a rhythmic thumping that made the dust fall from the ceiling. Thump. Thump. Thump. It sounded like a giant heart beating against the earth.
Suddenly, the roof of my prison didn't just crack—it exploded.
Large rocks fell everywhere, and for the first time in a week, I saw the sky. But the sky was blocked by something massive and black. A giant claw, larger than a carriage, ripped the stone walls away like they were made of paper.
The guards screamed. I heard the sound of fire—a deep, roaring whoosh—followed by the smell of burning stone.
"Alaric..." I tried to whisper, but my throat was too dry.
Through the dust, I saw him. He didn't shift back into a human. He was the Great Black Dragon, his scales glowing with a red heat. He looked down into the hole he had made. When his giant, golden eyes landed on me—tied to a post, covered in blood, and pale as a ghost—the sound he made was not a roar. It was a sob of pure, animal pain.
The guards tried to run, but the Dragon didn't let them. He didn't use fire. He used his sheer weight to crush the walls of the hallway, trapping everyone inside. He wanted them to feel the fear I had felt for seven days.
Then, in a flash of blinding gold light, the Dragon was gone.
Alaric stood there in the rubble. He was barefoot, his clothes torn, and his eyes were a terrifying, solid orange. He looked at my bruised arms and the way the ropes had cut into my skin. He looked at my cracked lips.
"Felina," he rasped.
He moved so fast I couldn't even see him. In one second, he was across the room. He didn't use a knife to cut the ropes; he simply ripped them apart with his bare hands.
I fell forward, my legs too weak to hold me. Alaric caught me. He pulled me against his bare chest, and the heat from his skin felt like life itself. I started to cry, the tears stinging my dirty face.
"You're here," I sobbed into his shoulder. "You found me."
Alaric didn't speak. He couldn't. He was shaking so hard I thought he might break. He tucked my head under his chin and held me so tight I could barely breathe, but I didn't care. I wanted to disappear into him.
He looked at the guards who were still alive, cowering in the corner. His face changed. The "monster" took over.
"You touched her," Alaric said. The air in the room started to shimmer with heat. The wood on the floor began to smoke. "You dared to put your filthy hands on the only thing in this world that is holy to me."
"Your Majesty, please!" one guard cried. "It was Elara's brother! He paid us!"
Alaric didn't listen. He raised his hand, and a wave of pure dragon-fire hit the walls. He didn't kill them instantly; he wanted them to feel the heat first. But then, he felt me flinch in his arms.
He looked down at me. My eyes were closing. My body was cold, even against his fire.
"Felina? Stay with me!" His voice was full of panic. He didn't care about revenge anymore. He only cared about the girl in his arms. "Don't you dare close your eyes! You told me you knew the ending! This is not the ending!"
He picked me up, cradling me like a piece of glass. He didn't walk out of the ruins; he leapt into the air, shifting back into the Dragon mid-flight.
I was tucked safely under his massive front claw, protected by his warm scales and the soft fur of his underbelly. We flew fast—faster than the wind. He wasn't going back to the castle. He was going to the Healing Springs of the North, a secret place only dragons knew.
The Healing
When we landed, the air was sweet and smelled of jasmine. Alaric shifted back and carried me into a pool of glowing blue water. He didn't take off my rags; he just walked into the water with me, sitting down and holding me in his lap.
The water felt like magic. It started to wash away the blood and the dirt. The bruises on my back began to fade from purple to a soft yellow.
Alaric took a small cup of the spring water and held it to my lips. "Drink, Felina. Please."
I drank greedily. It was the best thing I had ever tasted. As the water hit my stomach, I felt my strength coming back. I looked up at Alaric. He was watching me with a look of such deep, obsessive love that it made my heart ache.
"I'm sorry," I whispered. "I'm sorry I'm not the real Seraphina. I'm sorry I lied."
Alaric leaned down, his forehead resting against mine in the steaming water. He reached out and touched the Dragon Heart Stone, which was now glowing a bright, healthy violet.
"I don't want Seraphina," he whispered. His thumb traced my lower lip, his touch "spicy" and warm. "Seraphina never loved me. Seraphina never saved me. I want the girl who read my story and cried for me. I want Felina."
He kissed me then—a soft, desperate kiss that tasted of salt and survival.
"I don't care where you came from," he rasped against my lips. "I don't care if this world is a book. To me, you are the only real thing in it. And I am never letting you go again. If the gods want you back, they will have to kill the Dragon first."
I wrapped my arms around his neck, the water swirling around us. The week of shadows was over. The sun was coming up, and for the first time, the Dragon and Felina were truly one.