Chapter 17 Aug 19, 2025 The ground didn't stop shaking. Mira couldn't tell if it was the canyon itself or her own body, trembling and unsteady. Smoke rose around them in thick, angry curls. One wyrm still circled, wings tattered but burning with rage. Bastian didn't hesitate. He stepped in front of her like a wall, his eyes dark with something Mira had never seen before. He inhaled. Vharok bared his teeth, and the air around them crackled like lightning catching its breath. Then Bastian roared. Not a shout. Not a command. A sound ripped from the very center of him, ancient and wild. His hands clenched, fire spilling from his fingertips-blue and silver, laced with stormlight. It struck the cliffs with a force that shattered stone. The rogue wyrm shrieked once, then vanished into dust and sky. Mira blinked, barely holding herself upright. "What...was that?" "Stormfire," Bastian said, panting. "It's not supposed to be used like that." "You think?" Her voice was slurred with pain, but the sarcasm was still alive. "You're hurt." He didn't wait for permission. He stepped close, scooped her up with both arms, and ignored the way she winced. "There's shelter up the ridge. Hold on." She did. Sort of. The world tilted with every step. Her shoulder throbbed, ribs aching from the fall, dust still caked in her mouth. Liorith flew overhead, trailing them like a silent guard, her wings stretched wide and glowing. Vharok growled from behind, his massive tail dragging trenches in the dirt. They reached the cave just as Mira's head dropped against his shoulder. It was small and narrow, barely more than a hollow in the rocks, but the fire they lit filled it with gold. Shadows danced across the walls. The air was still, heavy with soot and breath. Mira curled against the cool stone, eyes fluttering half-shut. Bastian stood over her, hands flexing at his sides. "You should sit," she said weakly. He didn't move. Then, quietly, like it hurt to say it-"I nearly lost you." Mira's gaze softened. "You didn't." "I almost did," he snapped. "If I'd been slower-if you'd landed harder-if I'd hesitated-" "But you didn't." She pulled herself upright with a groan. "You found me. You caught me. You burned the sky down." "That's not the point," he muttered. She tilted her head. "Then what is?" He turned away, hand braced against the wall. "I can't think straight when you're in danger." Mira blinked. "I was built to be cold. Calculated. No weakness, no cracks. And then you-chaotic, fierce, infuriating-you scream and it shatters everything. Even my breath." Silence followed, but it didn't feel empty. Bastian looked back at her, jaw tight. "I need you. That's the worst part. Not your strength. Not your dragon. You." Her breath caught. He stepped forward slowly, as if afraid the cave itself might collapse from the weight of what he'd said. "I don't know how to be this," he added, voice low. "Not with anyone. Not even myself." Mira didn't answer with words. She lifted one shaky hand and touched his cheek, soft and open. Her fingers brushed the edge of his jaw, rough with dirt and heat. He leaned into it. His eyes closed. And for the first time, the boy who was always ice became something else-ash, smoke, the soft ember glow of someone finally letting go. She pulled him closer. Just the press of her palm to his skin, and the way he sighed like something inside him had stopped breaking. He slid down beside her. The cave floor was hard, but neither of them moved. They stayed like that-shoulders touching, foreheads nearly aligned, breathing in sync. Mira tucked her legs beneath her. Her body ached, her mind buzzed, but his warmth was steady. His presence a strange kind of balm. "Bastian," she whispered. He didn't open his eyes. "I know." The fire crackled, low and lazy. Outside, the wind howled across the cliffs, but inside the cave, it was all heartbeat and hush. He stretched out beside her, arm slipping behind her back. Mira shifted, letting her weight fall into him. He didn't tense this time. He welcomed it. Minutes passed. Maybe hours. Neither of them measured time anymore. The mission could wait. The dragons could rest. Right now, it was just Mira and the boy who claimed he was heartless, letting her fingers curl into his shirt as they drifted into sleep.