SQUEAK
The door opened and Auryn entered into his room. Immediately his eyes narrowed.
Lyra sat at his dining area. Plates of food. Wine and candlelight.
She'd been waiting.
"I thought you'd be hungry." She said.
Her voice was carefully neutral. But she'd changed clothes. Not the formal dress from earlier. Something simpler and informal. Softer green silk that moved when she did.
He closed the door. The dragon bond between them hummed stronger when they were alone.
Is this surveillance? Or something else?Auryn thought.
"Thank you." He moved to the table calmly.
She poured wine. Her movements were graceful and intentional. He sat across from her. The food smelled good. Roasted chicken. Bread. Vegetables.
He was starving and wasn't afraid to show it. They ate. She watched him—amber eyes calculating behind the softness.
"How was training?" She started with an innocent and surface level question.
"Productive." He kept his answer vague.
"The council meeting, heard you refused?"
"Postponed. I'll call them when I'm ready." He answered between bites.
"And Borin mentioned you're planning something?"
*Hmm..she's probing me. Also since when does Borin report my training schedule to her? That short traitor*
"Yeah, I always need to plan. Comes with the territory."
She smiled. Her lips rosy.
"I saw you, you know. From my window."
He paused mid-bite. "How long were you watching?"
"Long enough." Her amber eyes held his. "You're getting better. Much better." She said while she scooped some chicken.
"Practice helps." He brushed it off like nothing.
She reached for her wine glass. He did the same. Their fingers brushed softly.
Both froze.
Warmth flared between them, magnetic and insistent. The dragon bond pulled harder than it should.
Lyra's breath caught. She pulled her hand back first, touching her silver hair unconsciously.
It's stronger. Much stronger than last time. She couldn't help her racing mind.
"The bond," she unknowingly spoke out. Her voice quiet but barely steady.
Auryn looked at her hair. The silver catching candlelight. Brighter than he remembered even from early this morning.
Should i ask or play ignorant? She expects questions.
"Is it always like this?" He asked a vague question. Hoping to see what he could get from her.
She hesitated. Her fingers still in her hair.
"No." The word came soft. "It responds to.... Emotion. To proximity" She met his eyes.
"It should fade with distance. With time apart."
"But it hasn't?"
"No." Her voice was barely audible. "It's intensifying." Her cheeks slightly red.
That's the problem, isn't it? If I'm not him—if I replaced, changed. it should weaken but instead...
Silence stretched between them. The invisible bond tugged at their chests insistently.
Lyra broke eye contact first. Looked down at her plate.
"Your hands. They're still burned?." Her attempt to change the topic. An horrible attempt.
"They'll heal." Auryn allowed the flow.
"Let me see."
He hesitated. Then extended his right hand across the table. She took it gently. Examined the damp bandages.
Her fingers were cool against his skin. So tender he was lost to it.
"You should let the healers look at this again."
"I'm fine."
"You're stubborn." Her tone was fond and exasperated. Holding his hand longer than necessary.
He could feel her awareness. Her warmth. Her silk dress, slightly see-through when the candlelight hit it just right, shifting with every breathe.
Don't stare. Focus on something else. Anything else.
Suddenly a knock came and they both pulled back fast.
"Enter," Auryn commanded.
Borin walked in carrying some items.
"Lad, brought salve for those—"
He stopped. Looked at them. At the dinner table. The candles. The wine.
"...I'll come back."
"No, it's fine," Auryn said quickly. "What do you need?"
Borin's eyes were knowing. "Salve. For the burns. But I can return later if you're busy with... territory matters."
Territory matters. In my chambers. At night. With candles. Subtle, Borin. Real subtle. He thought.
Lyra hid a smile behind her wine glass.
"Stay, Lord Borin," she requested. Her voice was composed.
"We were just finishing."
Borin sat and set the jar on the table.
"Right. Let's see those hands, lad."
Auryn extended both arms.
Borin unwrapped the bandages carefully. The burns were worse than Auryn had admitted. Blistered and blackened from the explosion.
Lyra's expression shifted. She was both concerned and conflicted.
She wants to help. But she still doesn't trust me. Auryn could tell from how her face twisted.
Borin applied the salve. It stung. But Auryn didn't flinch.
"Blowing yourself up," Borin muttered. "Brilliant strategy."
"It was one explosion. Don't embarrass me" Auryn said using his eyes to signal the dwarf towards Lyra.
But Borin didn't stop.
"One's enough to lose a hand."
"But I didn't."
"Yet." Borin wrapped fresh bandages. "Keep this up and you'll be the first dragon prince who can't hold a sword because his hands are charcoal."
Lyra made a small sound. Almost a laugh. But caught herself.
Borin finished and stood.
"Right. I'll leave you two to... discussing grain surplus. Or whatever important matters require candlelit dinners."
Auryn glared. Borin grinned unapologetic.
"Goodnight, my lady."
"Goodnight, Lord Borin." Lyra smirked
The door closed behind the shrinking figure of the dwarf.
Silence returned. Heavier now. The intimacy between them made more aware by Borin.
"He's perceptive," Lyra said finally breaking the ice.
"He's annoying." Auryn rolled his eyes.
"That too." She chuckled slightly.
She stood abruptly and moved toward the door.
She's leaving. Good. This was getting complicated.
But she paused. Turned back.
"Auryn. Before I go. Could you sign something?"
His awareness sharpened. Eyes narrowed but his body stayed relaxed.
"What?"
"Marriage contract amendment. Routine paperwork. My father sent it."
She pulled the parchment from the desk drawer.
She planted this earlier. What is this? Another trap?
He took the document and scanned it quickly. Actual routine amendment. Nothing suspicious in the content.
So the trap is the signature itself.She must have samples of Auryn's handwriting. She'll compare.
He looked at his freshly bandaged hands and thought.
Perfect.
"Lyra." He held up his right hand. "The burns. I can barely hold a pen."
It was mostly true. Writing would hurt. Badly. But he could do it if I had to. Only if he had to.
"Could you sign for me? As witness? We'll formalize it when I'm healed."
She studied him. The bandages Borin had just wrapped. The damage was visible beneath.
Her eyes were calculating but she had to admit. It was a convenient excuse.
"Alright." She took the parchment back. Then her eyes went to the table.
"The maids will come to clean up once you're done."
Auryn nodded while faking a wince.
"Thank you."
"Goodnight, Auryn."
"Goodnight."
In seconds he was alone again. Staring at his bandaged hands.
That was close. She's not just suspicious. She's hunting. Building a case to confront me.
He sighed.
How long until she has enough? And when she confronts me... what then?
The thoughts probed and disturbed him. He would find a way. He placed his hand on his chest.
He could still feel his heart racing but this wasn't fear but excitement from being around her.
-----
Lyra walked to her chambers. Her mind still racing.
Could he have written?Probably—painfully, but possibly.But the excuse was plausible enough I couldn't push
She entered her room. Locked the door behind her and immediately pulled out her hidden journal.
She write evening observations—Dinner attempt
"Signature test: FAILED. He refused, claimed burned hands prevent writing. But timing is too convenient. Excuse plausible enough I couldn't press without seeming suspicious myself."
"Training observation: Advanced fire control. Multiple sustained flames. advanced patterns. This level of precision is new. Auryn was never this controlled before."
"Our bond intensifies despite personality changes. His pull is stronger."
She paused. Couldn't write it.
"Instead of fading. It's growing"
She stared at the words then added:
"Physically he seems okay but he was always—"
Heat crept into her cheeks. She crossed out the line immediately, pulse quickening. Her thighs pressed together under the desk.
Not now. Not now...
But her body remembered. The way he'd looked at her across the candlelight. The warmth of his hand on hers.
She closed the journal. Stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her silver hair. The mark of her bond with Auryn. It was brighter than it had been in years.
If he's not my husband... why is our bond responding? Why am I drawn to him?
Unless... She stroke her hair slowly.
...Unless the bond doesn't recognize personality. It recognizes the soul in the body. And something about that soul...
...feels just RIGHT.
She turned away from the mirror. Confusion tightening in her chest.
Tomorrow. I'll push harder. Watch even closer.
He was gone for days. I won't waste this chance to understand what happened. Before he leaves again. Before I lose my opportunity for truth.
She glanced at the journal one last time.
"Three days," she whispered. "He's planning something in three days.
"If he is going to move against the council in three days... I need answers before then."
"Before whatever he's planning changes everything."
---
Auryn couldn't sleep. There was too much on his mind.
Lyra's investigation. The bond pulling stronger. The conspiracy with those snakes. Vaedon's agents.
He got out of bed. Lit a candle. Spread documents across his desk.
The Rusty Colt ledger. Castor's payment for Dark Sapphire Venom. The raven tracking logs. He looked through it all while his mind stirred.
Borin said three days to track all communications. Then I'll have enough. Evidence. Proof. Justification.
His mind went back to the crimson aura on his advisor Marten.
*When I survived, you stayed. Reported. Watched. Waiting for another chance.*
His hands curled into fists. The bandages pulled tight.
*You'll get yours. Soon.*
*And you'll be the one who doesn't survive.*
He looked toward the window. Dawn was hours away. The issues stacked before him.
He sighed deeply.
One crisis at a time.Traitors then Lyra
But even as he thought it, he knew: time was running out on both.
His last thought before sleep finally claimed him wasn't of the chaos but the beauty of Lyra's silver hair catching candlelight. A bond that shouldn't be growing stronger.
But was and he could feel it.
He also knew Lyra was somewhere in the castle, planning her next move.
Three days until I move. How many days until she demands the truth?
He fell asleep without an answer.