The stone walls of the dormitory hummed with residual violence, the air still thick with the metallic tang of dragonfire and shattered stone. I stood at the narrow window, my palms braced against the icy ledge, staring into the courtyard below. Moonlight pooled in the gouges left by talons, turning the rubble into jagged silver teeth. Somewhere beyond the clouds, Tairn fought—still fought—and the bond between us thrummed like a frayed wire, raw and electric.

Xaden's footsteps were silent, but I felt the heat of him before he spoke. "Here," he said, his voice low, a gravel-soft command. A steaming mug materialized in my line of sight, the scent of dark chocolate and cinnamon cutting through the cold.

I didn't turn. My gaze stayed fixed on the shadows, half-expecting emerald eyes to blaze back. "I'm not thirsty."

"Didn't ask if you were." He set the mug down beside me, the ceramic clinking against stone. "Drink it anyway."

Violet appeared at my other side, her silver-streaked hair loose and tangled from the run. She pressed a strip of dried venison into my hand, her fingers lingering. "You need to eat."

"How can I?" My voice cracked, the words sharp as flint. "He's out there. Alone. Because of me." The bond pulsed again, a phantom ache in my chest. Tairn's rage, his ferocity, his fear—it all coursed through me, relentless.

Xaden's hand closed over my wrist, his grip firm but not unkind. "No. You don't get to do this, Y/N." His thumb brushed the pulse point beneath my skin, a grounding pressure. "Guilt won't keep you alive. Starving yourself won't bring him back faster."

I tried to pull away, but he held fast, his gaze piercing. "Let. Go."

"Make me," he challenged, quiet and dangerous.

For a heartbeat, we stood locked in silent defiance, the air between us charged like the moment before a lightning strike. Violet shifted uncomfortably, her eyes darting to the window.

Then it came—a distant, earth-shaking roar. Not Tairn's. The Cannibal's.

The sound unspooled something feral in my blood. I jerked free of Xaden's hold and seized the mug, the heat of it biting into my palms. "He's not done," I whispered, staring into the blackened horizon. "He'll keep coming. For me. For Tairn."

Xaden stepped closer, his shoulder brushing mine as he followed my gaze. "Then we'll be ready."

"You don't understand," I hissed, the hot chocolate sloshing as my hands trembled. "This isn't some battle you can win with daggers and strategy. That dragon—he's not just hunting. He's hungry. And he'll devour everything in his path to get what he wants."

A beat of silence. Then Xaden's voice, softer than I'd ever heard it: "Including you?"

The unspoken truth hung between us, heavy as a death sentence. Yes.

Violet's breath hitched, but it was Rhiannon who spoke from the doorway, her arms crossed, her tone steel. "Then we make sure he chokes on his greed."

Outside, the wind howled, carrying the faint echo of wingbeats. Closer now.

Closer.

The dormitory door clicked shut behind me, the sound swallowed by the vast emptiness of the courtyard. My boots echoed against the cracked stone, each step deliberate, each breath measured. Above, the sky churned with the promise of violence, the clouds bruised purple and black, streaked with the faintest hints of dying sunlight.

The wingbeats grew louder, a rhythmic pulse that reverberated in my chest, in my bones. Shadows danced across the ground, massive and sinuous, their edges sharp as blades. I tilted my head back, my gaze tracing the outline of glistening scales—black as the void, shimmering with an otherworldly sheen. The Cannibal circled above, his emerald eyes burning like twin suns, piercing through the gloom.

I exhaled, a long, shuddering breath that carried the weight of everything I'd been running from. My hands unclenched at my sides, fingers brushing against the cool night air. The bond in my chest—the one that tethered me to Tairn—thrummed faintly, a distant echo of his presence. But here, now, it was quiet. Too quiet.

Closing my eyes, I let the world fall away. The wind, the cold, the distant cries of dragons—all of it dissolved into nothingness. Darkness enveloped me, thick and suffocating, but it wasn't empty. No, it was alive. It pulsed with a power I couldn't name, a force that had been waiting, coiled and patient, for this moment.

And then I felt it.

A shift. A crack.

Deep within me, something stirred. Something ancient. Something hungry.

The monster had awakened.

My eyes snapped open, and the world came rushing back in a flood of sound and sensation. The Cannibal's roar split the sky, a sound so primal it made the ground tremble. His massive form descended, wings spread wide, talons gleaming like scythes. But I didn't flinch. I didn't run.

I stood my ground, my heart pounding not with fear, but with something else. Something darker. Something more.

The bond in my chest flared to life, a searing heat that spread through my veins like wildfire. It wasn't Tairn's presence I felt now—it was something deeper, something that had been buried beneath layers of denial and restraint.

The Cannibal landed with a force that shattered the ground beneath him, his emerald gaze locking onto mine. He bared his fangs, a low growl rumbling in his chest.

"You cannot run from me, little one," his voice slithered into my mind, cold and mocking. "You are mine."

I smiled.

"No," I said, my voice steady, my gaze unwavering. "I'm not."

The darkness within me surged, a tidal wave of power that spilled into the air, twisting and writhing like a living thing. The Cannibal's eyes widened, his growl faltering as he took a step back.

For the first time, I saw it—fear.

And I was not afraid.