There's only one thing left—to fight Oliver. But knowing when to act and how to act feels like grasping at smoke.
I lock my focus on a single point, feeling heat ignite in my chest, rising like a flame-fed torch. This heat… It's like a storm my heart was never built to hold. Like hell waking beneath my skin. Something inside me has been waiting far too long to erupt.
When I open my eyes—tornado. Fire. Scorching winds. Dust. The ground trembles beneath me. I'm breathless, watching it unfold. A smile tugs at my lips—until she turns toward me. Not as a friend. As an enemy.
Something inside me coils tight—my breath stutters. Every muscle pulls taut. I square my shoulders. Hands outstretched, I try to summon water—
Nothing. The heat suffocates, thick with dust that scrapes my lungs raw. My palms burn as if pressed to molten metal. A bitter, rusted taste fills my mouth. My skin pulses with fire, as though the dragon had touched me from the inside.
Then—like a legend—Oliver soars through the storm. His wings are broad, and thunder follows him. He halts it with raw force. When he lands, he blinks—surprised. Maybe even satisfied. But something remains.
I step closer, cautious. My cheeks blaze. My heart thunders—an eruption I can't hold. Fear and curiosity warred inside me.
In the scorched earth, a small egg lies still. My chest tightens, a whisper echoing inside: there's no turning back.
Oliver lands beside me. "This created the storm?" I ask, breathless. I don't believe it. Had I made a creature… or unleashed a monster?
The egg is deep forest green, speckled with flecks of gold that shimmer like fairy dust.
"You did this," he murmurs, his gaze on me for just a heartbeat before he turns away, as if the truth unsettles him. Not just the power. Me.
"So what is it?" I whispered.
He hesitates, voice low: "Something like this… shouldn't exist anymore. Once, people fought to wipe it out."
The shiver running through him is almost visible. His voice cracks with something old, like a memory that nearly killed him. Then softer still: "When emotion takes over… things like this come into the world. I know."
My hand moves without thought. Fingers stretch toward it. My heart pounds like a war drum. The world holds its breath.
And then the word comes—unbidden. Not chosen, born with me. "Sa'ar," I whisper.
He isn't just a creature. He was born to me. Through me. Terror and awe fuse as something shifts in my heart. Maybe he's what I've always buried. Not a monster—but different. Mine.
Even if I feared him… I created Sa'ar.
"No!" Oliver's shout echoes. But too late.
The egg cracks with a surge of energy, hurling us backward.
When I open my eyes, he is there. A dragon. Massive. Born of storm. His eyes blaze gold and gray. His wings shimmer like light spun into silk. He roars, embers spilling from his throat. Smoke thickens the air, searing my lungs.
My body moves before thought. Run. His tail whips the ground with a crushing force.
We dive behind a waterfall. The spray lashes my skin—icy needles. Mossy air fills my lungs. But my body still burns.
"I'll be right back," Oliver says, stepping into the battlefield.
He summons water from the air, whipping it toward the dragon. Flame answers. A clash—fire against water. Oliver is thrown, rolls, rises, and charges again.
The dragon roars one last time—then collapses.
Even the Earth seems to hold its breath.
But before he fades, his eyes lock on mine. Not wild. Questioning. Recognizing.
He doesn't vanish. He waits.
And somewhere deep inside… I waited too.
I didn't know it then, but Sa'ar wasn't born to burn out. He was born to return.
Maybe I couldn't save myself. But maybe… I was meant to save him.
The forest falls silent, broken only by the restless whisper of leaves. Still, I feel him—Sa'ar—thundering in my veins.
Minutes—or hours—pass before I find myself again. Drenched, lungs dragging in storm air.
And when my feet carry me back into the woods, I see him.
Jace.
He catches me before I collapse. Warmth sinks into my frozen skin. His eyes widen, surprised, steady. Two worlds colliding—me still burning, and him so impossibly… normal.
"Amelia," he raises a brow. "Why are you wet?" Half-teasing, half-concerned. Something in him tenses—not sure if it's worry… or jealousy.
I glance behind; Oliver is gone.
"He's… my mentor. For class," I say.
His brows knit. "He's the one who taught you… this?"
"Yes. During training."
"He looks like he belongs in a legend, not a classroom."
His words sting sharper than I let on. How much longer can I keep hiding?
"Are you coming over today?" he asks at last.
I open my mouth—ready to confess. But no words come. Instead, I nod—a quiet lie dressed as truth.
"Let me guess—canceling again?" His voice softens. "I just wanted to know if you're okay."
My eyes dart away. "Of course. Why wouldn't I be?"
He hugs me. I freeze—not from fear, but from the fear he'll feel the storm raging inside me.
I wish I could tell him. But how do you explain loving a dragon born of your soul?
I let go. Hide the truth. Step back into a world that pretends nothing has changed.
The librarian shelves books as if none of them ever whispered about dragons like mine. The world moves on.
And me? I have to pretend.
No book prepared me for today.
I read aloud about colors, forcing normal. But inside, another world blazes.
Dragons don't speak. They burn.
And maybe I was reborn, too. Not as a girl. But as a silent dragon.
And I'm only just beginning to understand—there's fire inside me. And maybe… it was never meant to go out.