The first light of dawn did not arrive in the sea cave with the usual fanfare of a sunrise. Instead, it crept in as a pale, ghostly blue, filtering through the hanging vines at the cavern's mouth and illuminating the swirling dust motes that danced in the cooling air. The violent, sweltering heat that had radiated from the Dragon throughout the night had broken, replaced by a quiet, heavy stillness that felt like the aftermath of a storm.
Amara woke slowly, her body stiff from sleeping on the jagged shale. Her head was resting on something firm but soft, and as her eyes fluttered open, she realized she was no longer tucked against the cold, obsidian plates of a monster. The Dragon was gone.
In his place, lying on a flat expanse of stone covered by the long cardigan she had worn from the mansion, was Darien.
