───────────────⋆˖☽ 𝑨 𝑪𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝑷𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒆 ☾˖⋆───────────────

The world went white, then cracked open with a sound like splitting stone. A heartbeat later, the ground bucked, throwing a geyser of soil and shattered rock into the air. The atmosphere was a razor’s edge—thick with the scent of ozone and quenching earth, charged with a power that made the hairs on my arms stand. A fool’s death in a fool’s storm, I thought. This worthless fight will be the end of us.

My muscles screamed in protest, but I slackened the bowstring, pulling its bite from his throat. With a guttural shove, I sent him sprawling into the mud. He scrambled away, a ragged groan tearing from his lips as he staggered to his feet. I was up in the same instant, the motion fluid as I slung the bow over my shoulder. Just in time. The sky broke. Rain began falling in solid, blinding sheet that stole the world away, reducing my vision to a ten-foot circle of churning mud.

I scanned the grey chaos, desperate for a landmark. The caves. There have to be caves. To stand here was to wait for the sky to strike again. I had to move.

I lunged forward, the deluge hammering my skin like a thousand icy needles. Each step on the slick ground was a calculated risk until another bolt of lightning spiderwebbed across the heavens. The thunder that followed wasn’t a sound; it was a physical blow that vibrated through the soles of my feet and up into my teeth. It spurred me into a stumbling run. Behind me, I heard it—the rhythmic, cloying slosh-suck of footsteps mirroring my own. Still following me. Is he that desperate to die?

Ignoring him, I pressed on, but the sound was relentless. With a snarl of pure frustration, I spun around. “Do you want to finish this?” I roared, the words nearly devoured by the storm’s fury.

I took a single, aggressive step toward him and froze.

It was not a sound. It was a presence, ancient and absolute, that bloomed behind my eyes and resonated in my very bones. It coiled around my lungs, squeezing the air from them.

That is enough.

“What—?” The thought was stillborn. He slammed into me, a solid, desperate weight in the deluge. Firm hands gripped my wrist and the small of my back, steadying us both against the gale. The contact lasted only a second before he let go, snatching his hands back as if my skin had burned him.

“Sorry!” he gasped, his voice strained. “I—I was already moving when you stopped. And no. I don’t want to continue.”

“Fine,” I snapped, wrenching myself away and turning back into the storm’s embrace.

My mind reeled, trying to grasp the shape of that voice. It hadn’t been heard; it had been felt. A command that bypassed the ears entirely. Am I losing my mind?

The downpour eased to a persistent, dreary drizzle. Through the gloom, I saw it: a dark slash in the rock face, a hollowed-out tooth in the mountainside. Another flash of lightning confirmed it, stark and brilliant. The cave. I scrambled toward it, collapsing inside the entrance. The air was instantly cool and still, the roar of the storm muted to a low-throated growl.

Behind me, the man’s footsteps followed, hesitated at the entrance, and then shuffled to a stop just inside. He’d found a place to sit, giving me a wide berth.

Without a word, I shot him a glare and stalked to the far side of the small cavern. I slid down the rough wall, my exhausted body finally sagging. For a long time, the only sound was the storm raging outside and the drip of water from the stone ceiling. My jaw ached, a testament to the rage I was swallowing. Any other cave. He could have chosen any other cave.

Then came the prickling sensation up my spine—the unnerving weight of his gaze. It was steady, intense, as if he were mapping every scratch and strain on my body. Finally, I couldn’t stand the silence. I glanced over my shoulder. His golden eyes were unwavering in the gloom.

“Will you tell me now?” he asked. His tone, impossibly, was kind. After everything I had done, the gentleness in his voice was more unnerving than any threat.

“Tell you what?” I asked flatly. As if there’s anything left to say.

“For a start,” he said, his expression infuriatingly placid, “why you tried to kill Zarina. And then me.”

“Seriously?” I pivoted on the stone floor to face him fully. “You ask why I would attack a dragon? Dragons are the reason our people are cursed. They are walking apocalypses. I know the sound they make when they burn a village, and the smell of scorched earth that follows. They are blights that need to be erased.”

My voice dropped, becoming a low, sharp thing. “And you… you stood in my way. You defended the monster.” I shifted, the damp chill of the cave seeping into my bones. My gaze flickered away. “Though I’ll admit,” I mumbled, “attacking it while it was with you… was a tactical error.”

“Dragons are not monsters,” he countered, his voice a steady, calm anchor in the turbulence of my anger. “Your people are wrong. Their knowledge is a tapestry woven from threads of fear. Dragons feel. They love. They would give their lives for humans they care for.”

A short, bitter laugh escaped me. “I don’t know what world you live in, but I know what I’ve seen.” The roar of flames, the smell of burning pine, the high, thin sound of screams… The memories flashed, hot and suffocating.

His expression softened with something that looked like pity, which only stoked my fury. “Are you certain?” he asked quietly. “Are you certain that what you saw was the whole truth?”

Against my will, my mind replayed the moment before my arrow flew. I saw it again—the way the great, scaled beast had lowered its head, closing its golden eyes in serene trust as it accepted his touch.

My gaze snapped to the storm outside. Rain still hammered the ground, a relentless rhythm punctuated by the violence of thunder. That is what dragons are, I told myself fiercely. Violence and noise. That gentleness was a lie. A trick. If it had been me, it would have incinerated the ground I stood on. I shoved the memory away. I needed my anger. It was all I had left.

“What were you doing in our woods, anyway?” I demanded, turning the interrogation back on him. “Why were you here with that… that creature?”

“That creature has a name,” he said, his voice still calm but now laced with steel. “Her name is Zarina.”

The name, so elegant and real, sent an involuntary shudder through me.

“And we were in these woods,” he continued, his golden eyes capturing mine, “because we were looking for you.”

The air left my lungs in a rush. The distant rumble of the storm seemed to fade to nothing, the entire world narrowing to the charged space between us. “What?” The word was a bare whisper.

“We need people like you,” he said, his voice earnest. “Strong. Skilled. Resilient.”

I couldn’t read the truth in his face, but I shook my head regardless. “Help you with what? I… I have a home.” The lie felt hollow and withered on my tongue. “Or, I did.”

A wave of profound exhaustion washed over me, and my muscles went slack. He rose and moved closer. My body went rigid as he sat beside me—far too close. I flinched, turning away, but I could feel his gaze searching my face. Don’t look at me. Not like that. I closed my eyes, my hand instinctively reaching for the familiar comfort of my hood, but my fingers brushed against sopping wet cloth and recoiled. Useless.

“Please,” he said softly. “Look at me.”

Some reluctant, broken part of me obeyed. I lifted my head, fixing my gaze on the stone wall just past his shoulder.

“I’m sorry you lost your home,” he continued gently. “You could have a place with us. There are warm beds, dry clothes…”

His words sparked a memory. My pack. My eyes darted around the dark corners of the cave. Nothing. “What is it?” he asked.

“My pack,” I said, a fresh wave of despair washing over me. “It had everything. I left it… back where we fought.” I glanced at the storm, still raging. “I have to go back for it.”

“So,” he said after a moment. “Will you come with us?”

Never. The conviction was a core of iron in my chest. I scrambled to my feet, putting distance between us again. “No,” I spat, the word sharp with venom. “I will not.” I slid down the far wall and leaned my head back, closing my eyes to shut him out.

His only reply was a soft sigh, followed by the rustle of a pack. The scent of smoked meat drifted across the small space. My eyes cracked open. It was then I noticed it. The dark miasma, the suffocating shroud of despair that clung to every living thing I’d ever known, was different around him. It was still there, a faint haze, but it was thinner, less oppressive. It seemed to recede from his very presence. My eyes fell to the jerky in his hands. The food, too, was clearer, almost vibrant beneath the gloom.

My stomach twisted with a hunger so sharp it was a physical pain. He finished a bite and met my gaze. “Do you want some?”

“No,” I bit out, turning my head away. It was a lie. My mouth was watering. I couldn’t remember the last time food had a smell at all, let alone one so rich and real. My stomach betrayed me with a loud, pathetic growl.

I looked back. He was holding out a piece. “Here,” he urged. “Please. Just eat.”

With a sigh that was more a growl of self-disgust, I stalked over, snatched the meat from his hand, and retreated to my corner. The aroma of herbs and cured meat was intoxicating. I took a hesitant bite.

The flavor exploded on my tongue—an impossible symphony of salt, smoke, and savory herbs. It wasn’t the dull, tasteless ash I was used to; it was real. It was alive.

“It’s good, isn’t it?” he asked softly.

I could only nod, my eyes wide as I took another bite. As I swallowed, a cold tingling started in my fingertips. It spread with alarming speed up my arms, which suddenly felt heavy and numb.

Panic flared in my chest, hot and sharp. A leaden weight settled in my limbs, and the very air seemed to thicken. The stone walls of the cave began to warp and breathe. My body gave out. I crumpled to the ground, the half-eaten jerky falling from my nerveless fingers.

Through a darkening, twisting tunnel of vision, I saw his boots approach. He knelt before me. The last thing I saw was his face leaning close, his golden eyes unreadable. The last thing I heard was his voice, a ghost of a sound filled with something that might have been regret.

“I’m sorry. I had no other choice.”

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𝓓𝓸𝓷’𝓽 𝓯𝓸𝓻𝓰𝓮𝓽 𝓽𝓸 𝓪𝓭𝓭 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓫𝓸𝓸𝓴 𝓽𝓸 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓵𝓲𝓫𝓻𝓪𝓻𝔂 𝓼𝓸 𝔂𝓸𝓾’𝓵𝓵 𝓫𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓯𝓲𝓻𝓼𝓽 𝓽𝓸 𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀 𝔀𝓱𝓮𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓷𝓮𝔁𝓽 𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓭𝓻𝓸𝓹𝓼. 𝓐𝓼 𝓪𝓵𝔀𝓪𝔂𝓼, 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓴 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓲𝓷𝓬𝓻𝓮𝓭𝓲𝓫𝓵𝓮 𝓼𝓾𝓹𝓹𝓸𝓻𝓽!