Blake POV
The calm doesn’t arrive like relief.
It settles the way the aftermath of battle does—slow, cautious, earned. The fire inside me hasn’t vanished; it never will. But it no longer claws at my spine or screams for release. It coils now, watchful and contained, as though even the dragon understands this quiet is fragile.
Steady, it rumbles.
For now.
Elle stands only a few steps away from me in the scarred corridor, shoulders relaxed but eyes sharp, her posture loose in the way of someone who has learned how to stay ready without looking afraid. The damage around us tells the truth of how close I came to losing myself—cracked stone, fractured runes, scorched walls still humming faintly with residual power.
And yet she is standing.
Not shaken.
Not retreating.
Present.
That rea
