Chapter 14
1407 Words
I stared at him for a long moment after that.
Fire recognizes its own.
The words stayed lodged somewhere deep in my chest, heavy enough that everything else seemed quieter around them. The crackling fireplace, the wind brushing faintly against the outside walls, even the exhaustion pulling at me—it all faded beneath the weight of what he’d just said.
“No,” I said finally, though the word lacked any real conviction. “That’s not possible.”
Rhaegar didn’t argue.
That somehow made it worse.
I pushed myself upright again, dragging a hand through my hair as I paced a few steps away from the couch. The blanket slipped fully to the floor behind me, forgotten as I tried to force my thoughts into something that actually made sense.
“Dragons aren’t real,” I muttered.
One dark brow lifted faintly. “That’s your conclusion?”
I stopped pacing long enough to glare at him. “You know what I mean.”
“Yes,” he said calmly. “And they are.”
I let out a frustrated breath, rubbing both hands over my face before turning away again. “This is insane.”
The fire snapped softly behind me.
Warmth rolled briefly against the back of my neck.
I froze.
Not because I was scared this time.
Because some part of me had started expecting it.
Slowly, I lowered my hands and looked toward the flames again. They flickered steadily for a second before twisting higher near the edges, almost playful now that my attention had returned to them.
“That has to stop happening,” I muttered.
“It won’t,” Rhaegar replied.
“Very comforting.”
“It isn’t meant to be.”
I looked over at him again, irritated despite myself. “Do you ever say anything reassuring?”
“Yes.”
I waited.
Nothing else came.
A disbelieving laugh escaped me before I could stop it. “You’re impossible.”
“So you’ve said.”
The annoying part was that he almost sounded amused now.
I shook my head and dropped back onto the couch again, leaning forward with my elbows against my knees as I stared at the fire. My thoughts kept circling the same impossible truth, hitting walls every time they got too close to accepting it.
Dragon.
The word alone sounded ridiculous in my head.
And yet…
I swallowed hard, my fingers tightening together slightly. “You said someone suppressed it.”
Rhaegar grew quieter at that.
“The witch in your pack,” he said after a moment. “She knew what you were.”
My head lifted sharply. “What?”
“She bound your fire before it could fully awaken.”
The room felt suddenly smaller.
I stared at him, trying to process the words and failing completely. “That’s not possible.”
“It is.”
“She was part of the pack.”
“She was loyal to someone else first.”
Something cold settled low in my stomach. Images flashed through my mind too quickly after that—the witch always lingering near my father during pack gatherings, the strange teas she used to force me to drink when I was younger, the constant comments about weakness and patience and how some wolves simply bloomed later than others.
My chest tightened sharply.
“She knew,” I said quietly.
Rhaegar didn’t answer.
He didn’t need to.
I leaned back slowly against the couch cushions, my pulse suddenly too loud in my ears. “All this time…”
The words trailed off.
All this time they hadn’t been waiting for me to shift.
They’d been making sure I never did.
The realization hit like something physical, stealing the air from my lungs for a second before anger pushed in behind it, hot and sharp enough to make my skin prickle.
The fire flared.
Not violently.
But enough that both of us noticed immediately.
I jerked slightly at the sudden wave of heat.
Rhaegar stood.
“Breathe,” he said evenly.
“I am breathing.”
“Not properly.”
I glared at him even as my chest rose too fast. “That’s helpful.”
“Try anyway.”
The calmness in his voice should have irritated me more than it did. Instead, I found myself focusing on it automatically, grounding against the steadiness of his tone while I forced a slower breath into my lungs.
The flames lowered slightly.
I blinked.
“That’s… concerning.”
“You’re connected to it,” Rhaegar said as he stepped closer to the fireplace again. “Your emotions affect it.”
“That seems wildly unsafe.”
“It can be.”
I dropped my head back against the couch cushion with a groan. “Fantastic.”
A quiet sound that might have been amusement slipped from him before he crouched near the fire again, one forearm resting loosely against his knee.
I watched him carefully for a second.
“You already knew,” I said.
It wasn’t really a question anymore.
Rhaegar’s gaze stayed on the flames. “Part of it.”
“And the rest?”
He was quiet long enough that I thought he might avoid answering again.
Then, “I knew the moment I scented you.”
The words sent another strange warmth curling through my chest, different from the fire this time. I hated how quickly my body reacted whenever he said things like that.
I looked away first.
“That still sounds insane when you say it out loud.”
“It won’t forever.”
The certainty in his voice settled over the room again, calm and immovable. I rubbed tiredly at my eyes before letting my hand fall back into my lap.
“You keep acting like this changes everything,” I said quietly.
Rhaegar finally looked at me fully then.
“It does.”
The directness of the answer made my stomach twist.
I stared back at him, suddenly too aware of how alone I’d been before this. How small my world had actually been inside the pack. Weak girl. Wolfless daughter. Burden.
Every version of myself they’d forced onto me suddenly felt unstable, like one hard push would make the whole thing collapse.
“What if I don’t want it to?” I asked softly.
For the first time since the conversation started, something in Rhaegar’s expression shifted into something almost careful.
“That won’t matter to the people looking for you.”
Silence settled heavily after that.
I looked toward the fire again, watching the flames twist slowly around the logs while exhaustion dragged harder at me with every passing minute. My thoughts felt slower now, tangled and uneven from too many revelations all at once.
Rhaegar noticed immediately.
“You need sleep.”
I huffed softly. “You say that like my entire life didn’t just explode in the last two hours.”
“It’ll still be exploded in the morning.”
I stared at him.
Then, despite myself, another tired laugh slipped out.
The corner of his mouth shifted faintly in response before he straightened again.
“There’s a room upstairs,” he said. “Second door on the left.”
I hesitated.
Not because I thought he was lying.
Because going upstairs somehow felt more permanent than stepping through the front door had.
Rhaegar seemed to realize what I was thinking almost immediately.
“You can lock it if it makes you feel better,” he said.
“That wasn’t actually my concern.”
“No?”
I looked away too quickly.
His expression changed slightly then, something more knowing settling beneath the calmness. Not smug. Worse.
Aware.
Heat crept into my face immediately, which only made me more annoyed with myself.
“I’m going to bed,” I muttered, standing abruptly before this conversation could get any worse.
“A wise decision.”
“You’re enjoying this far too much.”
“I am.”
That stopped me halfway toward the stairs.
I turned slowly. “You admitted it.”
Rhaegar leaned lightly against the edge of the fireplace, firelight catching against his face as that faint almost-smile appeared again.
“You noticed.”
I narrowed my eyes at him for a second before shaking my head and heading toward the stairs anyway, ignoring the warmth still lingering in my chest.
Behind me, the fire crackled softly.
And somehow, it sounded pleased.
- Writer
