The arrow was still inside him. Auryn’s eyes snapped open to that reality. Metal buried a few inches from his heart.

Every shallow breath scraped it against bone. He tried to move but that was a mistake.

He felt pain shooting from his chest to his entire body. His jaw clenched, waiting for the agony to subside.

Eyes barely recognized the stone ceiling of his chambers. The orange glow of dusk bathing the room.

"Hmmm"

He stared down. Feeling the weight on his chest.

Lyra...

She lay against him. Silver hair spread across bandages someone had wrapped around the arrow shaft. Her head rose and fell with his breathing while she remained unconscious.

They left her on top of me?

His right arm was around her. Even unconscious, his grip had been locked. Clawed hand resting protective on her back.

They couldn’t separate us huh. Even passed out, I wouldn’t let go.

He looked at her face. Pale and peaceful, no sign of the silver flames.

The woman he’d been avoiding so much laid in his arms. Their bond reaching a new peak and for some reason. He couldn’t help it.

The thought unfurled in his mind. This wasn’t just his need to get her on his side but something deeper.

He sighed.

CREAK!

Borin entered the room to find Auryn awake.

"Lad!" Relief crossed the dwarf’s face. Then it turned stern. "Don’t move yet. Arrow’s still in you. Had to leave it until you woke."

Auryn looked at Borin, rolling his eyes at his statement. It was obvious the arrows was inside him.

"Couldn’t move her?"

"Couldn’t pry your damn hands open." Borin’s tone was dry. "Even unconscious, you held on like she’d turn to dust if you didn’t."

"Dragon instinct." Auryn concluded.

"Aye. Inconvenient for healers though." He moved closer.

"She’s stable. Just mana exhaustion. She’ll wake when ready."

"How long was I out?" Auryn asked

"Four hours. Transformation kept you alive. Scales closed around the wound enough to stop major bleeding."

The healer arrived before more could be said between them. She was old, elven and had eyes that seemed to devour.

She quickly moved to his side to examine the wound. Fingers probing the arrow’s position.

Auryn hissed.

"It’s lodged underneath the collarbone. Punctured lung partially. You’re lucky." Her tone was clinical.

"Removing it will cause bleeding. Transform when I say so. But you’ll need to actively maintain scales during extraction."

"Understood." Auryn nodded. This was why they waited for him to wake up. Dragon physiology tends to fend off external magic innately. They needed him awake to proceed.

The healer glanced at Lyra. "Your wife should be moved—"

"No."

"During the extraction, you could hurt her."

"I won’t." His eyes met the healer’s. Cold and certain. "Just do it."

She studied him and nodded once. "Your choice."

Her hands positioned around the arrow shaft. A film of blue energy streamed down the length of the arrow from her hands.

"I’m pulling on three. One—" she pulled without warning.

The arrow tore free.

Auryn’s eyes nearly turned solid white. The pain dragging at his scalp. He felt like he was at the cinderfang ruins all over again.

His jaw locked, teeth grinding. His clenched fists manifested claws reflexively. It punctured the sheets beside Lyra.

He didn’t thrash. Every muscle rigid with control.

Blood poured like a fountain from his chest. The healer pressed cloth immediately. Applying pressure as the field of blue energy surrounded the injury.

"Transform and seal it." She instructed

Auryn focused inward despite the agony.

Scales rippled across his chest. Crimson armor forming over the wound.

Immediately the fountain of blood slowed down. The healer worked quickly. Packed treated cloth over scales. Wrapped fresh bandages.

"Three days for the lung. Week for full recovery. Don’t fight. Don’t train. Don’t be stupid."

Auryn narrowed his eyes at the hag and then to Borin.

Is this bitch talking to me ?

She gathered her things quickly and moved to the door. She stopped just at the entrance.

"She’s fortunate. Not many would take an arrow for someone."

Auryn watched as she left but Borin remained. Auryn already knew he was itching to scold him.

"You caught her and nearly killed yourself doing it."

"Yes." Auryn answered like it was a question.

"Dragon bond?"

"Yes."

Borin’s expression was unreadable. "Dangerous things, these bonds."

Auryn didn’t reply. His mind drifting somewhere else while he managed the pain.

"Tell me what happened. Why did Castor attack me."

Borin jaw tightened. "You know why." His voice now heavy. "The agent you killed at the warehouse."

Auryn’s eyes narrowed. "What about him?"

"Castor identified the corpse." Borin replied

"How? Face was destroyed."

"Don’t know. Maybe timing. Maybe other methods." Borin crossed his arms. "Does it matter?"

"Yes. If he had ways to identify bodies I destroyed, others might too." Auryn replied as he saw a problem.

"Castor waited. Watched Marten’s execution. Confirmed you were dismantling the network. Then came for revenge." Borin laid out the structure.

Auryn’s mind assembled the pieces.

Agent disappeared the night I killed him. Body found burned the next morning. Marten executed two days later. Castor attacked hours after the execution. What was the common denominator?

"His son." Auryn said flatly. Borin’s silence confirmed it.

"The swordsman was Castor’s son."

"Aye."

Auryn looked at the sleeping Lyra then back to Borin.

"I didn’t know."

"Would it have changed anything?" Borin shrugged.

"No." Auryn answered immediately.

Borin’s expression hardened. "Lad—"

"He was Vaedon’s operative. Coordinating intelligence in my territory."

That’s espionage 101

Auryn’s tone stayed level. "Being someone’s son doesn’t erase being a threat."

"He was a boy with a family—" Borin retorted.

"So were the guards who’d have died if his intelligence reached the wrong hands."

Auryn’s eyes turned cold. "So am I."

"This isn’t about justification—"

"Then what is it about?" His voice direct and unperturbed.

Borin exhaled. Looked away briefly. Then he spoke again, his voice was quieter now.

"I’m a father, lad."

That stopped Auryn’s plan to retort.

"Maybe not by blood. But I raised men. Trained boys who called me ’sir’ until they earned the right to call me by name."

Borin met his eyes. "Some died. Some I killed to keep others alive. Hard choices I made."

"But I remember them. Their faces. Their names. What it cost."

He gestured toward the window. Toward where Castor had fled.

"Castor’s son is dead. You killed him. That’s war. That’s survival."

"But you sound like you’re about to use his grief like it’s currency. About leveraging a father’s pain."

Borin’s voice wasn’t angry. Just... heavy.

"That’s where I’m lost. Not the killing. The exploiting."

The room became silent. Borin’s words sinking into the atmosphere.

Auryn looked down at Lyra. Her peaceful face. He felt the warmth of her skin against his chest. This was the kind of peace he wanted to keep.

He looked back at Borin. His lips parted as he spoke.

"In a world where swords and words carry equal weight..." He chose his words carefully.

"...mercy without strength is martyrdom. Strength without purpose is tyranny."

He paused as his facial expression grew colder.

"I’m not kind, Borin. I’m intentional."

"Castor attacked me.That demands a response. It’s treason "

"And it demands I don’t waste the opportunity. His grief makes him vulnerable. His position makes him valuable."

"I can demand his head. Or I can demand something that strengthens this territory. Our territory. Protects the people here."

"Which serves them better? His death? Or his resources?"

Borin stared at him for a long moment. The words catching him off-guard slightly.

"You’re not wrong but you’re not right either. There’s a cost to thinking like this. To seeing people as pieces on a board. Your father knew that cost. Paid it. But never forget he is still paying."

He moved toward the door and paused.

"You’re becoming something dangerous, lad. It works but it’s dangerous." He sighed.

"Just... don’t forget who you are."

The door closed behind him as Auryn sat alone with Lyra sleeping against him.

Borin’s words echoed even in his absence.

Don’t forget who you are

He looked down at Lyra. Touched her hair gently. He enjoyed her presence and wants to protect this territory. This wasn’t just Julien. Julien wanted only to survive but this feeling was different.

"I’m starting to forget" he mumbled, staring at how dusk bowed to the cold embrace of the night.

He remembered holding Lyra and yet scheming even as he protected. Cold even as he cared. His eyes glowing even as darkness slowly crept into the room.

This is who I am now. Clear with enemies. Calculating with allies.

But with her...

He looked at Lyra’s sleeping face.

...I don’t know if I’m protecting her because I need her, or because I—

The thought stopped. Lyra’s breathing stayed steady on his chest.

And somewhere in the distance, Castor fled toward his estate.

Unaware of what was coming...