After drawing my shirt over my head, I paused, then addressed her over my shoulder, not quite able to look her in the eye. “Be careful out there,” I told her softly. “I know you can handle yourself, and you don’t need me, but this is still St. George we’re talking about. Come back safe, Ember.”
“I will.”
There was more I wanted to say, questions I wanted to ask, arguments and protests wanting to burst forth, but it didn’t seem to matter now. I stepped through the frame into the late-afternoon sun and closed the door behind me, hearing the hollow thump echo all the way to my soul.
I’ve lost her.
I slumped against the wall, feeling numb inside and out. Ember was gone. She had truly chosen the soldier, to the point that even the life-mate bond meant nothing to her. How she could resist the pull of the Sallith’tahn was a mystery; I had no idea how she could just ignore that instinctive knowledge that we were supposed to be together.
But she had. And she’d made it perfectly clear where we stood now. Just being with the soldier wasn’t enough, it seemed. She wanted to sever the Sallith’tahn completely. I was willing to wait for her, to let her be human until she realized how very short their lives truly were, but even that wasn’t enough.
Move on, she’d told me. As if I could. As if this wouldn’t consume me from the inside, tear me to pieces little by little every time I saw her.
No. With a mental shake, I pushed myself off the door, hardening my emotions. I couldn’t fall apart now. Over a dozen hatchling dragons still waited for me beyond the yard. Trusting me to keep them safe from the massive storm brewing on the horizon. Talon was coming for us. I had lost my Sallith’tahn, but I was still the leader of this resistance, still responsible for dozens of innocent lives. I wouldn’t fail them.
So be it.
Goodbye, Ember. I stepped away from the barn and forced myself to move, to walk toward the farmhouse without looking back. Maybe someday, when this war is over and the soldier is gone, you’ll look to me again. And maybe... I can learn to love like a human, as well. But not now. Raising my head, I walked a little faster. I’ve been distracted for too long. Talon is coming. I have to look out for my own now, and make sure that, whatever the organization throws at us, we’re still alive at the end of it.
EMBER
In the cool darkness of the barn, I listened to Riley walk away. Listened to his footsteps fade into silence and curled my talons into the wood to stop myself from going after him.
I staggered across the floor to sink down in the corner, curl into a ball and put my head under my wing, shutting out the world as the realization stabbed me like a knife.
Cobalt is gone.
I started to shake. Hot tears welled in my eyes, spilling over to run down my scales, and I let them come. I didn’t regret my decision. It had to be done; Riley deserved to be with someone who could give themselves to him completely, who wasn’t in love with someone else. And I couldn’t truly be with Garret until this Sallith’tahn issue was finally put to rest. I knew I had done the right thing, for all of us.
But I could still feel the awful ache of loss inside, a gnawing emptiness that hollowed me out, making me feel empty and cold. I loved Garret with everything I had, but I couldn’t deny that it was Cobalt who made my dragon side stir and come to life. He understood me in a way a human never could. He shared my love of flying, my fascination with shiny things and the heat surging within that sometimes felt like it could consume me. Things only a dragon could comprehend.
And now, he was gone. I had let him go, so we both could be free. But that didn’t mean it hadn’t killed me to do it. To see the look on his face, stunned and devastated, when I said I didn’t want to be his Sallith’tahn any longer. It had taken everything I had to keep talking, to force myself to say those words. A few minutes of falling apart where no one could see it didn’t seem like too much to ask.
After several minutes, I heard the barn door open and close, and quiet footsteps, not Riley’s, rustled across the straw. Instinctively, I curled even more tightly around myself, pressing tail and wings close to my body. I didn’t know if I could face him right now, either. I hadn’t told him about the Sallith’tahn, what it meant, why Cobalt was supposed to be my life-mate. I’d meant to, of course. There just hadn’t been a good time.
“Ember.” His voice was calm, but it still made me wince. His footsteps stopped right beside me, close enough to touch. “I brought you a change of clothes.”
Warmth fluttered through my stomach. Even angry, he was still thinking of me, knowing I didn’t have my Viper suit anymore. Or maybe he just wanted to get on the road as soon as possible, and I was slowing him down. Either way, I needed to Shift, but I wasn’t going to do it with Garret standing there.
“That’s fine,” I said from beneath my wing. “Just leave them on the ground. I’ll change back in a minute and meet you outside.”
I waited for his footsteps to walk away, but he didn’t move. “Are you all right?” he asked, surprising me. It wasn’t a routine question; he seemed genuinely concerned. Or maybe I was just hoping he was.
“Yeah,” I mumbled. “I’m okay.” I just drove off my Sallith’tahn, my life-mate. Cobalt might never speak to me again. And I don’t know how angry you are with me for not telling you. “I’m sorry, Garret,” I said, grateful of the wing barrier between us, flimsy as it was. I didn’t want to see his eyes and whatever anger, disgust or sorrow lay within. “I meant to tell you earlier, and I know it’s an awful way to hear it now but...” I took a quick breath. “There’s this thing called the Sallith’tahn. It’s the Draconic word for life-mate, though you already know that.” Garret didn’t say anything, and I didn’t dare peek up to see what he was thinking. “It’s not something we choose, or initiate ourselves,” I went on. “It just happens. But when a dragon finds its Sallith’tahn, they’re supposed to be together for life. Or that’s how it always was, before Talon, anyway.