Claimed By Fire And Crown

Chapter 21

Chapter 21

“You’re laughing at me now?”

Vaelor made absolutely no effort to hide it. He leaned back against the counter with his coffee still in hand, one shoulder shaking slightly as he looked between me and the fireplace.

“You argued with sentient steam earlier,” he pointed out. “Now you’re threatening fire itself. I’m trying very hard to take this seriously.”

“I am taking it seriously.”

“That’s what makes it funny.”

I stared at him in open disbelief while Rhaegar slid another plate onto the table like this conversation was perfectly normal.

“Why are all dragon men insane?” I muttered.

Vaelor’s amusement disappeared instantly.

The room went still.

I blinked. “...What?”

Rhaegar turned slowly from the counter, his expression suddenly unreadable in a way that made my stomach tighten.

“You felt that,” he said.

Not a question.

I frowned immediately. “Felt what?”

“The difference.”

I looked between both of them, increasingly convinced everyone around me had lost their minds except me. “You’re going to need to explain using actual words.”

Vaelor set his coffee down carefully before crossing his arms. “You called us dragon men.”

“Yes?”

“You separated us from wolves instinctively.”

I opened my mouth.

Then stopped.

Because I hadn’t even realized I’d done it.

The warmth beneath my ribs flickered softly, almost in response to the realization.

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me.”

Neither man looked amused now.

Rhaegar moved back toward the table slowly, his attention fixed entirely on me. “What exactly did you feel?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted, frustrated immediately. “You two just feel… different.”

Vaelor’s pale eyes narrowed slightly in thought. “Different how?”

I groaned softly and dropped my head into one hand. “Why does everyone keep asking me impossible questions?”

“Because your instincts are waking up faster than they should.”

“There’s that sentence again.”

Rhaegar pulled out the chair across from me before sitting down, calm and composed while my entire identity continued collapsing around me before breakfast.

“You recognize dragon fire instinctively,” he said. “And you react differently to dragon energy than wolf energy.”

I stared at him blankly.

Then at Vaelor.

Then back at the fireplace.

“You know,” I said carefully, “a few days ago my biggest concern was avoiding pack training.”

Vaelor almost smiled again. “Your life has become significantly more interesting.”

“I preferred the old version.”

“No,” Rhaegar said quietly.

The certainty in his voice pulled my attention back toward him immediately.

I frowned slightly. “You don’t know that.”

“I do.”

I opened my mouth automatically to argue—

Then stopped.

Because he wasn’t looking at me the way he normally did when he said things like that. There was no amusement under it this time. No teasing certainty.

Just honesty.

Like he genuinely believed it.

Something uncomfortable twisted in my chest at the realization.

Vaelor cleared his throat softly before the silence stretched too long. “We need to discuss the more immediate problem.”

I latched onto the distraction instantly. “Finally. A sentence I understand.”

“The Butcher wasn’t acting alone,” Vaelor continued.

The warmth under my ribs cooled immediately at the reminder.

Rhaegar’s expression darkened again. “I know.”

“He’s moving too openly,” Vaelor said. “Which means he believes he has support.”

My fingers tightened around the edge of the chair slightly. “Support from who?”

Neither answered quickly enough.

I narrowed my eyes immediately. “I’m starting to really hate it when people pause before answering me.”

Vaelor sighed quietly. “There are factions who have been searching for you for a long time.”

The room felt suddenly colder.

“For me specifically?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

This time the silence lasted even longer.

Rhaegar looked toward Vaelor sharply before answering himself. “Because of what you are.”

“That’s still not an explanation.”

“It’s the only safe one right now.”

Frustration surged instantly, hot enough that the fire snapped loudly again behind me. I looked toward it automatically before groaning under my breath.

“Oh my God, stop doing that.”

The flames ignored me completely.

Vaelor looked deeply fascinated by this.

“That’s unsettling,” he admitted.

“Thank you,” I said immediately. “Finally. A normal reaction.”

“It’s not normal,” he corrected.

I pointed at him aggressively. “And there it is again.”

Rhaegar leaned back slightly in his chair, watching me with that steady, impossible calm that somehow only made me more aware of how close I was to completely losing patience.

“You need training,” he said.

I blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Your fire is responding emotionally because you have no control over it yet.”

“I didn’t ask for it.”

“That doesn’t change reality.”

The bluntness of the answer hit hard enough that I looked away immediately, irritation and exhaustion tangling together in my chest.

“I don’t even know if I want this,” I admitted quietly.

The room fell silent again.

Not awkward.

Heavy.

Rhaegar’s expression shifted slightly, something almost careful moving beneath the surface before he spoke.

“That choice was taken from you a long time ago.”

The words landed harder than anything else had that morning.

Because deep down—

I knew he was right.

The witch had taken the choice.

My stepmother had taken the choice.

My father had looked at me and decided I was worth selling.

Anger flared sharp and immediate.

The fire exploded.

Flames shot upward violently enough that heat slammed across the room, and this time I actually yelped in surprise as I jerked backward in the chair.

“Absolutely not!”

Vaelor burst out laughing again.

Rhaegar closed his eyes briefly like he was reconsidering every decision that brought him to this moment.

“I hate both of you,” I informed them.

“No, you don’t,” Rhaegar replied calmly.

The worst part?

The warmth under my ribs reacted to him saying it.