Blake POV
The playroom does not go quiet all at once.
It never does.
Fire does not simply stop—it settles, sinks inward, retreats into embers that glow beneath the surface long after the flames have died. The stone still radiates warmth, the air still hums faintly with magic and bond and something deeper that has nothing to do with power at all.
Elle lies against me, boneless with exhaustion, her breathing soft and even now that the storm has passed. Her body is warm, her heartbeat steady where my arm is wrapped around her, and for a long moment I allow myself to simply stay there.
Still.
Listening.
Feeling.
Blaze coils contentedly inside me, the curse unusually quiet, as if even it understands that this moment is not one to be disturbed.
She grounded us, my dragon murmurs. Not by
