Chapter 6 Aug 19, 2025 Night hit the Bone Maze like a sledgehammer to the face. The wind howled through hollow spines and empty eye sockets, each gust sounding like something alive, something hungry, something that had been waiting in the dark for fresh meat to stumble into its territory. Mira dragged her boots across the narrow ledge of rock, fighting to keep her balance on stone that seemed designed to kill the unwary. She didn't bother asking if Bastian could keep up-the blood steadily soaking through his shirt like a crimson banner said everything she needed to know about his current condition. They'd lost the path an hour ago, assuming there had ever been a real path to begin with. Liorith walked point, her tail twitching with predatory awareness, eyes glowing like twin stars in the suffocating darkness. Mira followed her dragon without question-she trusted Liorith's instincts more than she trusted Bastian's sense of direction, and definitely more than she trusted his pride to admit when they were completely fucked. Up ahead, Liorith stopped and snorted at a cleft in the cliffside, steam rising from her nostrils like smoke signals. Mira squinted into the gloom, trying to make out what her dragon had found. "Shelter," she announced, already heading for the opening. "Barely," Bastian muttered behind her, his voice tight with pain and exhaustion. "Would you prefer a royal tent with silk curtains and hot wine service?" "I'd prefer not bleeding through my fucking ribs." "Then stop complaining and sit your ass down before you pass out." They ducked beneath the jagged overhang, squeezing into a space that was about as welcoming as a coffin but at least offered protection from the wind. Mira dropped her satchel with a thud and coaxed a small flicker of flame from the rock's fire moss, the golden glow immediately illuminating Bastian's face-pale as death and tight with the kind of pain that made grown men cry. He dropped to the ground without ceremony, pressing his hand against his side like he could hold his life in through sheer willpower. His jaw clenched as he peeled back the fabric, revealing a wound that looked like something with very sharp claws had tried to redecorate his torso. "You're going to pass out if you don't stop bleeding," Mira said, digging through her pack with the efficiency of someone who'd done this before. "I've had worse." "Congratulations on your extensive injury history. Do you want a medal or actual medical attention?" He didn't answer, just watched her with that sharp, unreadable stare as she pulled out a small tin. The moss-light danced across her marked wrist as she pried it open, revealing a golden paste that smelled like healing and home. His eyes widened slightly. "You brought healer's balm into a survival trial?" "I didn't bring it," she replied, dipping her fingers into the paste. "I made it." Bastian's brows shot up. "You're not supposed to use outside tools." "You're not supposed to be a condescending asshole, but here we are, defying expectations." She reached for him, and to his credit, he didn't flinch away. He just watched, silent and intense, as she pressed the salve against the wound. His breath hitched once-sharp and involuntary-then steadied into something more controlled. "You're not the only one who knows pain," she said softly, her voice losing its sharp edge. His brows knitted together. "Is that what this is? Some kind of pain competition?" "It's survival. And you keep acting like I haven't earned my place here, like I'm some charity case who doesn't belong." "You haven't trained the way we have. You don't know what it's like-" "I wasn't raised the way you were," she shot back, her voice heating up again. "I didn't get fancy tutors and private lessons and dragons handed to me on silver platters." The silence that followed was thick enough to cut. Only the sound of wind through bone and the steady breathing of dragons kept the space from exploding with all the words they weren't saying. Finally, Bastian spoke, his voice quieter than she'd ever heard it. "I never asked for this." Mira glanced at him, studying his profile in the flickering light. "To be paired with me?" "To be a weapon." The words came out flat, empty. "To have every choice made for me since I could walk." Her throat tightened unexpectedly. She looked down at the tin, rubbing what was left of the salve between her palms. "Yeah," she murmured. "Well. I never asked to be here at all." He didn't respond, didn't offer platitudes or empty reassurances. Mira leaned back against the wall, closing her eyes and letting exhaustion wash over her like a tide. Her body ached in places she'd forgotten existed. Her boots were soaked through with things she didn't want to identify. The warmth from the balm was the only thing keeping her fingers from going completely numb. "I hated this place the moment I saw it," she added after a long beat, the words coming out before she could stop them. "Every stone, every rule, every person staring at me like I'm some kind of intruder who snuck in through the back door." "Because you are." Mira's eyes snapped open. She turned toward him, ready to unleash hell. Bastian met her stare evenly, unflinching. "But you're also stronger than any of us." She blinked, thrown completely off balance. "Did you just-was that supposed to be a compliment?" "I'm tired and bleeding. Don't get used to it." A laugh escaped before she could stop it-rough and unexpected, but somehow lighter than anything that had come out of her mouth all day. She glanced at Liorith, curled near the entrance like a silver sentinel. Her dragon's tail flicked once, then stilled. Mira shifted, pulling her cloak tighter around her shoulders. Her arm brushed against Bastian's. He didn't move away. They sat there for a long while, backs pressed against cold stone, firelight flickering between them like a dying heartbeat. Neither spoke. Not for a while. Mira's eyelids grew heavier with each passing moment. The warmth of the cave pressed in gently, almost protective. Liorith let out a low, rumbling breath that sounded almost like a purr. Somewhere in the dark distance, a bonebeast screamed its rage at the night-but it was far away now, someone else's problem. Mira stopped listening after that. Words blurred into the quiet hush of breath beside her-the slow, even cadence that meant they were still alive, together. She let herself match its rhythm, grounding herself in the shared silence. When dawn filtered in, pale and cold, Bastian stirred. Mira's head was on his chest, his heartbeat steady beneath her ear.