Night settled deep over the cave, wrapping it in hush and shadow. The fire burned low, casting flickering gold across the stone walls. Axel lay curled farther back, his massive body rising and falling in slow, uneven breaths. His scales glistened faintly where Imogen’s salve clung to them, the worst of the poison drawn out, but his body still locked in the long, slow work of healing.

  Imogen sat near the mouth of the cave, knees hugged to her chest, watching the moonlight catch on the far trees. Her black hair fell loose down her back, strands still tangled with leaves, her clothes smudged with dirt and blood. She looked both exhausted and restless like she wanted to curl up and sleep for a hundred years, but couldn’t quiet her racing mind long enough to try.

  Darius approached softly, settling beside her without a word.

  For a long while, they just sat there, the silence stretching between them. Not heavy, but not entirely easy either.

  Finally, Imogen spoke, her voice quiet. “Will he make it?” Darius followed her gaze back to Axel. “If anyone can survive, it’s him.”

  Imogen exhaled, fingers knotting in the fabric of her sleeves. “Good.” A pause. Then, softer, “I couldn’t lose him. Not after everything.”

  Darius watched her carefully, the moonlight painting silver across her cheek. “You didn’t.”

  She turned her face toward him then, and for the first time, her eyes met his without flinching. “Darius…” she hesitated, then let the words tumble out, raw and aching, “what is this between us?”

  His throat tightened.

  She shook her head faintly, eyes shimmering. “I feel it. I know you feel it too. This… pull. This thread is tying us together. But I don’t know what it means. I don’t know who I am in any of this.” Her voice broke slightly. “And I’m terrified I’ll fall apart if I pull too hard on that string.”

  Darius reached for her hand, slow, gentle and laced his fingers through hers.

  The bond flared softly, wrapping around them like a breath of warmth.

  “You’re stronger than you think, Imogen,” he murmured. “Stronger than you know. But you’re right, there’s truth you deserve to hear.”

  Her breath caught. “Then tell me.”

  He exhaled slowly, brushing his thumb over her knuckles. “Not here. Not tonight.” His eyes flicked briefly to Axel, then back to her. “You’ve fought enough battles for one day.”

  Imogen gave a shaky laugh, half a sob. “You’re very good at dodging hard conversations, you know that?”

  Darius smiled faintly, not a smirk, not a shielded grin, but something small and real. “I’ll tell you everything, I swear it. But for tonight…”

  He tugged her closer, letting her rest lightly against his shoulder, his voice dropping soft and rough near her ear. “…just let me hold onto you.”

  Imogen’s eyes fluttered closed, the last of her strength ebbing away.

  And as the fire crackled low, and the moon traced silver across the cave walls, they sat together bound by fate, haunted by truth holding onto the one fragile thing neither of them had ever been given before.

  Peace.

  Even if only for a night.Morning light crept slowly into the cave, pale and gentle. The fire had burned down to faint embers, casting a soft warmth over the stone floor. Outside, the wind stirred the trees, carrying the scent of wet earth and pine.

  Imogen stirred awake, blinking groggily as she sat up. For a moment, she just sat there, disoriented, the memory of the battle, the poison, the rush of foraging herbs all blurring together in a half-dream.

  Then she turned, and found Darius sitting near the entrance, legs stretched out leaning back on his elbows, head tilted back as he watched the slow brightening of the sky.

  He must’ve sensed her gaze, because his eyes flicked down to meet hers almost immediately.

  “You’re awake,” he murmured softly.

  Imogen pushed herself up to sit next to him. “How long was I out?”

  “A few hours.” He gave a faint smile. “You needed it.”

  Imogen rubbed her face, then looked toward the back of the cave where Axel still lay, his breathing slow but steadier now. Relief flickered through her. “He’s better?”

  Darius nodded. “You saved him.”

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  Silence settled between them again, but this time, it wasn’t heavy. It felt… inevitable. Like they both knew this moment had been waiting for them.

  Imogen let out a long, shaky breath. “You said you’d tell me everything.”

  Darius’s face softened, and something like sorrow crept into his eyes. He shifted, rising to his feet, crossing the small space to settle beside her.

  He didn’t reach for her this time. He just sat. Close enough that the heat of his presence brushed her skin, but not touching.

  “I owe you the truth,” he said quietly. “About who I am. About who you are. About why this bond exists between us.”

  Imogen’s throat tightened. She didn’t trust herself to speak, so she just gave the smallest nod.

  Darius ran a hand through his dark hair, exhaling hard. “Our mothers were more than friends, Imogen. They were bound by magic, by war, by a promise that was forged long before we were born. Lady Cordelia, your mother, wasn’t just a dragon singer. She was the last of the royal dragon singers. My mother’s most trusted companion. And when the war turned, when the hunters came, they made a vow to protect each other’s bloodlines, no matter what.”

  Imogen’s breath hitched. “My mother…”

  “She sealed your power when you were still an infant,” Darius murmured, his voice rough, his eyes locked on hers. “Your mother hid you away in that village, placed you with one of the few humans she trusted, someone who believed in peace between humans and Dragon Kin. She knew the seal wouldn’t hold forever. That’s why she stayed in contact with my mother, just in case. Dragon Singers were hunted even more ruthlessly than dragons themselves.”

  Imogen’s brow furrowed. “No… no, that can’t be right. You’re talking about my mother as if she planned all of this, as if she knew.”

  “She did,” Darius said softly. “The woman who raised you… Eleanor. She reached out to my mother when she realized you’d caught the eye of General Albert’s nephew, the same bastard we faced on the battlefield, the one who wore my mother’s skull on his cursed head.”

  Imogen flinched, shaking her head. “Stop. You’re wrong. He wasn’t like that. He wasn’t his father!” Her voice cracked, anger and confusion mixing in her chest. “He was… he was kind to me. He…”

  “And you were in love with him?” Darius asked quietly, a flicker of hurt crossing his face, no softness in his voice. His eyes burned, sharp and accusing, his jaw tightening with possessive anger. “You planned to marry him?”

  Imogen recoiled slightly, startled by the sudden heat in his words.

  “I-” she stammered, her voice cracking. “I didn’t know what I was doing! I didn’t know any of this!” Her eyes flashed, defiance flaring through the confusion and guilt. “You’re a stranger, Darius. I’ve only known you for what, maybe a day, and you stand there acting like you know me like you have the right to tell me what I felt, what I should have done.”

  Darius continued, fists clenched, his voice sharpening like the edge of a blade. “During one of your lessons, Elanor saw the seal weakening. My mother warned her to keep you away from the general’s nephew. But you rebelled, didn’t you?”

  “I didn’t know!” Imogen burst out, her voice rising. “I thought Eleanor was just trying to control me! I thought she was… she was being overprotective. I didn’t know why!” She swallowed hard, her voice faltering as memories surged, the warmth of a boy’s smile, the stolen touches, the soft promises she had clung to.

  Darius’s face hardened, his expression dark. “Two weeks later, Eleanor was dead.”

  Imogen squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head fiercely. “No. No, that’s not fair. You can’t put that on me. I didn’t ask for any of this, I didn’t choose this!”

  “My mother panicked but didn’t abandon you,” Darius continued, his voice low and grim. “She risked everything, watching over you, waiting for the right moment. But when the rumors came she knew she had to act.”

  Imogen’s hands curled into fists, trembling. “She died because of me?” Her voice cracked with disbelief and rising desperation. “Because I didn’t know what I was? Because I fell for someone I shouldn’t have?” Her breath shuddered. “You expect me to just turn my back on everything I knew, on everything I felt, because of this? Because you say I’m some lost hope, some savior I never asked to be?”

  Darius stepped closer, his grief tightening the lines of his face, but his eyes stayed steady, unyielding. “On the night she came for you,” he said softly, “she met her death at the General’s hands. She gave her life to make sure you escaped.”

  Imogen’s breath hitched, tears threatening, but she shook her head hard. “I didn’t ask for this,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I didn’t want any of this. I didn’t want to be anyone’s hope.”

  Darius’s voice softened, rough and aching. “I know this is hard to hear, and you may not have wanted it, Imogen. But you are.”

  Imogen stared at him, chest heaving, her heart caught in a war between denial and the unbearable pull of truth, knowing that the girl she had been was slipping away, shattered by everything she could no longer run from.“I know,” Darius said gently. He reached out, hesitating just a heartbeat before resting his hand lightly over hers. “But you were never meant to carry this alone. You were always meant to stand beside me.”

  Imogen pulled her hand back sharply, confusion flashing in her eyes, but more than that, she was shaken, upset by how deeply she could feel everything pouring off him. The betrayal and jealousy. Feel the hurt, the desperation. And, worst of all, love.

  Darius gave her the softest, saddest smile. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lash out. I know this is… a lot to take in.”

  He stayed frozen in place, not daring to move closer, as if afraid one wrong step would shatter whatever fragile thread hung between them. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, his jaw working slightly like he was chewing over words too heavy to say.

  Finally, he drew a slow, rough breath, shoulders tense. “There’s more, Imogen,” he murmured, voice low. “More than just our mothers, or the promises they made.”

  Imogen’s throat tightened. “What do you mean?”

  Darius exhaled shakily. “I didn’t tell you before because… because I didn’t know how you’d look at me afterward.” His gaze lifted, locking onto hers. “I am the last of the royal bloodline of the Dragon Kin. The king of what remains of my people.”

  Imogen’s breath caught, her heart slamming painfully in her chest.

  “The last… king?” she whispered.