Defy the Storm

"Ferryn isn’t like Avaris. Their dragons don’t just breathe elements—they carry entire environments. Lava. Metal. Poison. Verdant. Crystal.

Only one rider has ever bonded a crystal dragon. Of course it’s their king."

— Mira, mid-mission notes (written while freezing)

Gods, I’d kill for an actual bed.

Not a cot. Not a roll of canvas pretending to be comfort. A bed. Soft enough to forget the world for five damn minutes.

It had been five months since we’d left the Keep. Ninety days without a solid night’s sleep. I groaned and burrowed closer to Kane, chasing the steady rise and fall of his chest. Behind me, Caleb’s warmth pressed close, heat rolling off him in slow, comforting waves. The only real comfort left in this gods-forsaken tent.

Time to wake, little shadow, Nocthyrn’s voice rumbled through the bond, laced with dry amusement. Torin is pacing outside your tent.

Kane stirred beside me, his arm tightening once around my waist before he pushed upright. The canvas rustled as the cold rushed in to steal his warmth. I groaned again, less dignified this time, and dragged the blanket higher over my face. Caleb sighed, looping his arms more firmly around my waist and tugging me back against him.

“Tell the king to kindly fuck off,” he mumbled, pressing a lazy kiss to the curve of my neck, his breath warm against my skin.

Brave words for someone who made him wait an hour yesterday, Lyrix drawled through the bond, her tone crackling with smug amusement.

“It was worth it, wasn’t it, sweetheart?” Caleb’s fingers brushed beneath my breast, his voice a low tease.

Caleb’s words hung in the chill air, his breath warm against my skin, his lips still tracing lazy patterns along my neck. Kane was already up, dragging a shirt over his head. I watched as the fabric stretched across his broad frame, muscles shifting beneath it.

“I am not waiting an hour today,” Torin called from outside the tent, the crunch of frost beneath his boots marking his patience thinning.

You’re testing him again. Solis hummed.

I exhaled, the breath misting in the cold. “Fine.” Shoving the blanket aside, I winced as the air bit at my skin, the warmth of our cocoon fading instantly. “I already regret getting up today.”

Kane chuckled beside me, the sound low and rough with sleep. His fingers wove through my hair, tangling gently at first, then tightening with that possessive grip I craved. He tilted my head back just enough to expose my neck, his lips brushing mine in a kiss that started soft, almost teasing, before deepening into something hungry.

“Better, love?” he murmured, pressing feather-light kisses to my lips before his tongue traced my lower lip, asking for entrance.

I parted my lips without thinking, letting him in as his tongue met mine, unhurried in a way that unraveled the last threads of sleep. The kiss deepened, his grip in my hair firm enough to anchor me while his other arm pulled me tight against him. Heat unfurled low in my stomach, a familiar spark catching despite the cold creeping through the tent.

Caleb shifted behind me, his body pressing closer, his hand sliding up my side to join the fray, fingers grazing the underside of my breast in a teasing caress.

“Don’t start without me,” he grumbled, his voice still thick with sleep, though his touch was anything but drowsy.

Outside the tent, Torin’s patience finally snapped. The flap of canvas whipped open with a sharp rustle, letting in a gust of icy wind that made me shiver. His jaw was set tight with restrained frustration... and something else flickering beneath it as his gaze landed on the tangle of our bodies.

Kane broke the kiss with a reluctant growl, his fingers still threaded in my hair as he pulled back just enough to meet Torin’s eyes. A silent challenge passed between them, the air thickening with unspoken tension, but Kane yielded with a smirk, stepping aside while keeping one hand on my waist. His thumb traced a lazy circle against my hip, a subtle reminder of his claim even as he deferred.

Caleb chuckled from behind me, his arms tightening around my waist as if to shield me, or perhaps stake his own territory.

“Morning, Your Majesty,” he drawled, tone laced with mock deference. “Joining us for breakfast?”

I pushed away from both of them. “Let’s just get the day started.”

Caleb groaned behind me, his arms loosening reluctantly. “Tragic.”

Kane didn’t argue, but his hand lingered at my waist a second longer before falling away. His eyes flicked to Torin, sharp again, all warmth banked beneath control.

Torin stepped back to give me space. Not much.

“You’re late,” he said.

“You’re early,” I shot back.

I dragged my shirt over my head, ignoring all three of them, though awareness prickled along my skin like static. Too many eyes. Too much tension packed into too small a space.

“Hale and Severin returned before dawn,” he said after a moment. “They found another rift.”

“Fuck,” Caleb muttered, pulling on his clothes.

Torin’s gaze shifted back to me. “That’s why we’re eager to get moving.”

Nocthyrn stirred. I imagine the king is eager for other things as well.

Nocthyrn .I snapped, nearly slipping as I dragged on my boots.

I agree, Solis purred. He does seem to enjoy watching.

Gods... We are not having this conversation.

I hardly call it a conversation, little shadow, Nocthyrn replied, far too pleased with himself.

Caleb’s amber eyes flicked to mine, a slow grin tugging at his lips before he gave a teasing wink and reached for his belt. Kane rolled his shoulders, then shrugged into his jacket, the fabric stretching across his broad frame.

“Third rift this week,” he said.

I took a deep breath, letting the tension ease just enough to focus. There wasn’t time to linger, even if I wanted to. Pulling my cloak tighter against the biting wind, I let Kane and Caleb take the lead as we moved out.

Torin was already several paces in front, his boots crunching sharply against the frost. He glanced back once, just enough to make sure we were with him, before pushing on.

The wind sliced down from the peaks, sharp enough to sting exposed skin. Snow clung stubbornly to the ridges, crunching beneath our boots with every step, while the wind seemed to sneak into every seam I wore, making my fingers numb and my cheeks sting with frost.

Three weeks in this camp, and I already ached for the warmth of the hot springs from our last post.

The command tent was larger than the others, its canvas humming faintly with runes that pulsed a cool blue. I stepped inside, and warmth hit me like a wall, carrying the scent of ink, leather, and the metallic tang of magic. A large table dominated the center, maps stretched across its surface, runes shifting as Torin moved his hands over them.

Leona, Severin, Hale, and Malakai were already there.

“Finally, ye’ve decided t’show,” Severin said, stretching one arm across the table, leaning in to tap a red mark with his finger. His thick accent tugged at the words.

Leona rolled her eyes, brushing dust from the map. “Don’t act like we were that early. You weren't snoring twenty minutes ago.”

This was the only good thing about being away from the Keep. I enjoyed the company of the Ferryn riders… and sometimes their king.

Only sometimes, darling? Caleb teased through the bond. I think you like riling him up.

I allowed myself a small smile, the corners of my mouth lifting despite the exhaustion weighing on my shoulders. I slid my fingers over the map, brushing along the cold surface that leached the last traces of warmth from my skin.

Maybe.

Torin’s hands hovered over the newest rift, and the runes flared and dimmed with each motion. Black swirled ominously in the Hollows. Red pulsed over Broken Wing camps. And blue... blue erupted across the canvas, too many, spreading in a chaotic pattern.

I counted silently, letting my fingertips hover over each color. One black. Seven red. Twenty blue. The edges of the runes shimmered, almost as if impatient, and I could feel the tension in the air—the room holding its breath along with me.

Leona stepped forward, hands braced on the table. Her eyes flicked to each of us before landing on mine. “Eastern ridge. Rift opened just before dawn. Wards failed.” She traced a finger along the blue line, then lifted her hand as if to ward off questions.

Kane leaned closer, fingertips pressing against the edge of the table, voice low. “Anything corrupted come through?”

Leona shook her head. “Nothing. It opened... then sealed itself.”

I traced the line with my own finger, watching it shift beneath my touch.

“Not like the ruins,” I murmured. “No wraithbeasts. Could it be separate from the Broken Wing... from whatever they’re building?”

Hale leaned back slightly, arms crossed against his chest. “If they’re involved, they’re leaving no trail. Nothing obvious anyway.”

Malakai’s hands hovered over the map, hesitating. “So… what’s th’ next step?”

Torin’s fingers tapped a steady rhythm on the table, his index stabbing toward the largest cluster of blue that pulsed across the map.

“We move. We’ve been stuck here weeks. Rifts keep appearing. We’re no closer to the Broken Wing or whatever they’re creating.”

Kane’s hands braced on the table, knuckles whitening. “He’s right. We’re reacting, not anticipating. If the rifts are spreading this fast, they’re anchored nearby. We move closer. Find the source.”

Torin’s eyes swept over each of us, before he gave a single, decisive nod. "Then it’s settled. We break camp within the hour.”

Severin pushed off the table with a groan, brushing snow from his cloak. “Been stuck on this peak so long I’ve got blue balls from the cold,” he muttered, “ye’d think the frost’d have taken ’em by now.”

A few snorts broke the tension.

“Pack it up,” Torin said, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he turned away from the table.

I let my fingers linger over the map one last time, tracing the jagged streaks of blue. The runes pulsed beneath my touch, then faded as I stepped back and pulled my cloak tighter.

The camp—if it could even be called that—was already half dismantled. Leona stamped out the fire. Hale secured his tent atop his dragon. Malakai checked over their dragons, and Severin muttered about the cold.

Near our tent, Nocthyrn waited, his wings flexed once, twice, testing the cold mountain air. Solis stood a short distance away, heat rolling off her in steady waves that melted the snow beneath her claws. She exhaled once, a low breath of smoke curling into the cold air. Lyrix prowled the edge of the group, lightning crackling restless beneath her slate-blue scales.

The wild dragons moved with their own rhythm, less contained, more instinct than discipline.

Pyrren, shifted under the weight of our gear. He gave a low, impatient huff, a curl of embered breath slipping from his jaws; Aurelion curled low beside Nocthyrn, her golden glow pulsing faintly like a living ember against the frost; and Aeris perched at the highest point of the ridge, wings half-spread, twitching against the wind in anticipation as she scanned the terrain below.

“Think we can make it to the next spot before sundown?” Caleb asked, mounting Solis.

Yes, the currents are with us today, Aeris replied, stretching her long body.

You heard her—behave, Fire One, Lyrix said, moving away from the group toward Kane.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Caleb teased, a crooked grin tugging at his lips.

“Don’t encourage him,” Kane muttered, swinging onto Lyrix’s back like it was second nature. Muscles shifted beneath his jacket as he glanced at me.

You ready, love?

“Yes,” I said, breath fogging in the frigid air. “I cannot wait to leave this snowy camp behind us. I want to figure out these rifts, but not in the snow.”

Nocthyrn rumbled low behind me, the deep vibration rolling through my bones. His wings flexed once as his claws bit into the frozen ridge, ice cracking softly beneath the pressure. Then he dipped his massive frame slightly, offering me a steady platform to climb onto his broad back.

“Ready?” Torin asked, already mounted atop his crystal dragon, Prismara.

She shifted beneath him, her gem-like scales catching the sunlight and fracturing it into shards of color that scattered across the snow. Each movement sent ripples of prismatic light dancing over the ridge.

Torin’s eyes found mine again, and that same spark struck like the first moment we’d met.

“Yes,” I said, tightening my grip on Nocthyrn’s scales.

“Lead the way, Your Majesty,” Caleb said, a teasing lilt threading through his voice.

Prismara flexed her immense wings, sunlight fracturing across her gem-like scales in dazzling prisms. With a low, resonant roar, she launched into the sky, claws scraping the snow before lifting effortlessly into the air. The burst of force sent powdery snow scattering into the air, whipping through my hair and lashing against my cheeks.

Nocthyrn answered with a deep, rolling rumble beneath me, his muscles coiling before his wings drove downward. The world dropped as he surged up after her, shadows trailing in his wake.

Pyrren launched heavier than the others, the weight of our supplies pulling at his ascent. Aurelion rose beside him, her solar glow flared, chasing away the lingering chill that clung to the ridge. Above us, Aeris caught the thermals with effortless grace, banking smoothly along the currents, her wings tilting as she traced the mountain’s jagged edge like a shadow riding the wind.

Lyrix and Solis launched in near-perfect unison. Lyrix’s slate-blue scales flashed as she surged ahead, lightning skimming along her wings as she took point. Heat rolled off Solis as she settled beside Nocthyrn, her red wings beating steady, the warmth brushing across my chest even through the cold air.

“Keep formation,” Torin’s voice cut through the roar of wind. “We move fast, stay tight!”

Leona swept past on my right, her lava dragon trailing waves of heat that warped the air in shimmering ripples, molten seams glowing like living embers against the icy sky. Hale followed close behind, his venom dragon slicing through the wind, a faint green haze curling along its sleek body.

Ahead, Severin and Malakai flanked Torin, their dragons locked in tight formation. The metal dragon’s scales caught the light in ringing flashes with every wingbeat, while the verdant dragon flowed gracefully beside it, green scales blending with the ridgelines, leaves and vine-like patterns shifting fluidly with each powerful stroke.

I leaned forward, tightening my grip on Nocthyrn’s scales as his next wingbeat drove us higher, the powerful surge vibrating through my chest.

Below us, the world began to blur. Jagged peaks softened into streaks of white and gray, cliffs dropping away as distance swallowed them whole. Each mighty beat of our dragons’ wings pulled us farther from the ground and deeper into the open sky.

Maybe this time there’ll be sun… maybe there’ll be calm. I do like the beach, Solis mused, her wings leaving a faint trail of embers in the air.

Calm? It’s a beach. Nothing stays calm for long when humans are involved, Lyrix replied, dry as ever.

A ripple of shadow curled through the bond, amused and slow. Remind me again why we bonded to these two, little shadow.

Because life would be boring without us, Caleb cut in, a grin tugging at his lips as he leaned forward against Solis’s neck, the wind whipping his hair back.

Behave, Caleb, Kane warned.

Only if you ask nicely, Kane.

I dipped my head slightly, as if that could hide it, even as a flicker of something traitorous tugged at the corner of my mouth.

Ahead, the coastline spread wide, waves rolling lazily into a sheltered cove. The sand glimmered under the sun like scattered gold, and the cliffs offered natural cover on either side, their shadows stretching long across the beach.

Prismara banked gracefully, leading us down toward the shore with the precision of a predator and the elegance of royalty, her gem-like scales catching the light.

I leaned into Nocthyrn’s movement, tightening my grip as wind tore past, warmer now, carrying the scent of ocean and sun-warmed stone.

I like this. This I like, Solis flared her wings again, sending a shower of glowing embers scattering across the cove.

Keep your hopes in check, Solis, Lyrix snorted.

Females. Nocthyrn’s chest vibrated beneath me, a low, amused rumble rolling through the bond.

Prismara slowed, her wings beating once, twice, holding her steady above the stretch of sand. Then she descended, touching down with the effortless elegance of a creature born to command the skies, her claws sinking into the warm beach with barely a sound.

One by one, the others followed, wings folding as they settled into place, sand shifting softly beneath them.

Nocthyrn hit last. A thunderous impact sent grains skittering outward beneath his massive claws, the force jolting up through my legs where I sat.

I slid from his back, knees bending instinctively as my boots sank into the sand. Warmth seeped through the soles, a sharp, welcome contrast to the frostbitten peaks we had left behind. The heat worked its way into stiff muscles, easing the deep ache the cold had carved into me during the flight.

“Finally,” Caleb muttered, hopping down from Solis. Sand spilled from his boots as he brushed himself off, flashing a grin that made me roll my eyes.

“Do I get a kiss since we made it before sundown, Mira?”

“I’m getting the tent from Pyrren. Maybe Kane will give you one,” I called over my shoulder, already moving toward the Ember dragon.

“You’re breaking my heart, darling!” he called after me, one hand lifting in dramatic despair.

I shook my head, but a reluctant smile tugged at my lips anyway.

Fiery one, Nocthyrn rumbled, his tail sweeping a slow line through the sand behind him. Tell me again why, little shadow.

“Fate,” I said, crouching beside Pyrren. My hands slid over the Ember dragon’s warm, ridged flank as he shifted, adjusting the weight of our tent and gear with a low, rumbling huff.

Nocthyrn’s amusement rolled through the bond, deep and satisfied. Hmph. I suppose I can tolerate it… for now