Yara floated somewhere between a dream and waking. The heat no longer scalded her bones, but hadn't faded either. It pulsed gently now, like a second heartbeat.
She opened her eyes to a completely different world. Here, she sat cross-legged on a field of wildflowers—sunlight warming her skin, her hair down and wild. In her lap, two toddlers nuzzled into her arms, their tiny scaled wings flapping in slow, sleepy movements. One had pale gold wings, the other deep russet like burnt maple leaves.
Another two, barely toddlers in form, ran circles around her, giggling, chasing each other in their half-human, half-scaled baby shapes. She could hear the laughter of more, somewhere behind her.
Val was there.
Leaning against a tree, shirtless, sun-kissed, smiling.
Really smiling.
Not the tired, battle-hardened smirk he wore in recent times, but something looser.
Softer.
He knelt beside her, reached out a hand, and gently tucked a curl behind her ear.
