The wind howled through the jagged peaks of Ironreach as Ashka dove toward the shadowed ravine, her wings slicing the air with a strained rhythm. Kara clung to the dragon's scales, her knuckles white as the ground rushed up to meet them, the steel patch on Ashka's wing flexing under the pressure of their descent. Behind her, Talon's grip on the reins was iron-tight, his body a solid wall of tension against her back. Above, the roars of Veyl's riders echoed like thunder, their fireballs streaking through the sky in blazing arcs, each one a near miss that seared the air with heat and the acrid stench of burning sulfur. Kara's heart pounded in her chest, a drumbeat of adrenaline and raw survival instinct, but beneath it, that strange heat tied to Ashka pulsed steadily, urging her to fight, to endure.
Ashka hit the ravine floor with a bone-jarring thud, her claws skidding on the loose shale as she folded her wings. The narrow walls of the canyon loomed around them, their craggy surfaces slick with moss and shadow, muffling the sounds of pursuit but amplifying the dragon's ragged breaths. Kara slid off Ashka's back, her boots crunching against the stone as she steadied herself, her hammer still strapped to her belt. The air was cooler here, damp with the scent of wet rock and pine, but it did little to ease the fire in her veins—or the unease creeping up her spine as she glanced at Talon.
He dismounted with a predator's grace, his gray eyes scanning the sky through the sliver of dusk visible above the ravine. His sword was already drawn, its blade catching the faint light as he moved to the canyon's edge, his scarred face set in a scowl. "They'll circle for a while," he muttered, more to himself than to her, his voice rough as the shale beneath their feet. "But they won't come down here—not yet. Too tight for their dragons to maneuver."
Kara didn't respond immediately, her gaze flicking to Ashka. The dragon had curled into the shadows, her amber eyes glowing faintly as she lowered her massive head to rest on her claws. The steel patch on her wing held, but the strain of the flight had taken its toll—her breaths came in shallow, uneven huffs, and a faint tremor ran through her scales. That heat in Kara's chest flared again, a pang of shared exhaustion that wasn't her own, and she clenched her jaw against the sensation. Whatever this bond was, it was growing stronger—and it was starting to scare her.
She turned back to Talon, her emerald eyes narrowing as she crossed her arms over her chest. "Now what?" she demanded, her voice sharp despite the fatigue tugging at her limbs. "You dragged me into this mess, got me flying on a dragon with Veyl's riders on our tail—start talking, or I'm walking back to Ironreach right now, damn the consequences."
Talon's head snapped around, his gaze locking onto hers with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine—not of fear, but of something else, something hotter and more dangerous. He sheathed his sword with a deliberate slowness, then stalked toward her, his boots crunching on the shale with each step. Up close, she could see the tension in his jaw, the way his scars pulled tight across his face, and the storm brewing in his gray eyes. He stopped just a few paces away, his voice low and dangerous, like the rumble of a distant quake. "You don't get to make demands, smith," he growled. "You're here because I didn't leave you to die. Veyl's riders would've burned your forge to the ground—your father with it—if I hadn't taken you with me. So how about a little gratitude instead of that sharp tongue?"
Kara's temper flared, hotter than the forge she'd left behind. "Gratitude?" she spat, her voice dripping with venom as she took a step toward him, her fatigue forgotten in the heat of her anger. "You held a dagger to my throat, threatened my life, and now you've got me running from a king's army with no damn idea why. I saved your dragon—fixed her wing with my own hands—and you've given me nothing but riddles and threats. You want gratitude? Give me answers—or I'm done with you." She turned on her heel, her boots crunching as she started toward Ashka, intending to check the dragon's wing and figure her own way out of this mess.
Talon's hand shot out, grabbing her arm and yanking her back before she could take another step. His grip was like iron, and he spun her around, pressing her against the nearest canyon wall with enough force to knock the breath from her lungs. His scarred face loomed inches from hers, his gray eyes stormy with a mix of anger and something else—something that made her pulse quicken in a way she didn't want to examine. "You don't walk away from me," he growled, his voice rough and raw. "Not now, not when Ashka's chosen you. I left Veyl—that's all you get for now. He wants me dead, and he'll kill anyone who gets in his way—including you. Satisfied?"
Kara's breath hitched, her heart pounding as the heat of his body pressed against hers, as the weight of his words sank in. He left Veyl—a deserter, then, running from a king with a dragon army. But why her? Why drag a smith into his rebellion? And what did he mean, Ashka had chosen her? She wanted to demand more, to push him until he broke, but the look in his eyes—dark, dangerous, and just a little lost—stopped her cold. For the first time since he'd crashed into her life, she saw a crack in his armor, and it shook her more than any threat he'd made.
Before she could respond, Ashka let out a low, rumbling growl, her head snapping up as her amber eyes fixed on the sky. Talon released Kara instantly, his hand dropping to his sword as he followed the dragon's gaze. "Scout," he muttered, his voice taut with urgency. Above them, a lone rider circled the ravine, his dragon's wings casting a fleeting shadow across the canyon walls. The rider held a torch, its flame flickering in the wind, and as he banked closer, a small burst of flame erupted from his dragon's maw, searing the edge of the canyon in a warning shot that sent a shower of scorched pebbles tumbling down.
"We need cover," Talon said, his tone brooking no argument as he grabbed her arm again—this time more gently—and pulled her toward a narrow crevice in the ravine wall—a shallow cave, barely more than an overhang, but enough to shield them from prying eyes. Kara didn't resist this time, her boots slipping on the shale as she ducked into the shadows beside him. Ashka shifted to block the entrance, her massive body blending into the darkness, her amber eyes still fixed on the sky.
Inside the cave, the air was damp and cool, the faint drip of water echoing somewhere deeper in the stone. Kara leaned against the wall, her hammer hand twitching as she watched Talon take up position near the entrance, his sword drawn and ready. The torchlight above flared brighter for a moment, then dimmed as the scout moved on, his dragon's wings beating a steady retreat into the distance—but not before a faint flare shot into the sky, a signal that could only mean one thing: more would come.
"They'll be back," Talon said, his voice low as he sheathed his sword and turned to her. His gray eyes were unreadable in the dim light, but there was a weight to his words that sent a chill down her spine. "And with more numbers next time. You're a liability, smith—I should've left you behind."
Kara's lips pressed into a thin line, her mind racing as she weighed his words. She didn't trust him—not one bit—but the flare in the sky was a stark reminder of the danger they faced. Whatever Talon was hiding, whatever Ashka saw in her, one thing was clear: they were in this together now, for better or worse. And as Ashka's low growl echoed through the cave, that heat in her chest flared again—a warning, a call, a bond she couldn't ignore.