"You look like you're about to explode."
Ryvarn's voice cut through the thick air. I turned to him, crossing my arms even though my heart was racing. The heat in the room was impossible. It wasn’t from fire. It came from him.
His skin glowed faintly again. It always did when the dragon was close to the surface. He stood by the window, half in shadow, his chest bare and shining with a light layer of sweat. His eyes, golden and burning, were locked on mine.
"I might," I said. "Exploding sounds like a reasonable option."
He chuckled, a low sound that rumbled through the room.
"You feel it, don't you?"
"What? The suffocating tension? The way my skin feels like it’s trying to crawl off my bones? Yeah. I feel it."
His expression shifted. He took a step forward, careful, slow, like I might
