Justthis.
The sound of running paws and wind in my ears.
The pulse of the earth below us, steady and real.
The faint ache in my hands from holding on too tightly, and the warmth of Torryn’s body beneath me.
Eventually we crest a rise and the trees part, revealing a wide clearing framed by distant peaks.
I’ve never seen anything more beautiful. Untouched by humans or magic.
The trees stretch wider apart as we descend into a shallow valley brushed in silver light. The rhythm of Torryn’s stride slows beneath me, changing from confident strides to padding withcaution.
Torryn halts suddenly and I sit straighter on his back, sensing the shift in him before I see anything. The way his ears flick. The low sound that rumbles from his chest like a protective warning to whatever he senses.
Then I see it.
Across the glade, standing at the edge of a small slope something moves–no,glows. The shape is massive, yet not solid. Translucent and flickering with opalescent light, as if the air itself is folding around it. Wings flare out wide from its large body. Horns spiral back from the top of its head. Its eyes shine with a deep sense of understanding as my mouth parts in awe.
Torryn shifts beneath me in a single ripple of motion. One second I’m on fur and muscle, and the next I’m slipping off to the ground as he becomes a man again beside me, breathing hard.
“Stay back,” he says, his voice hoarse and low. “It’s…that’s an ancient dragon spirit.”
His body tenses like he’s preparing for a fight, but I feel no danger.
Only awe and peace.
The dragon steps forward, yet there are no footfalls that should rumble the ground due to its size. It simply glides across the grass.
Its gaze flicks to Torryn and lingers before bowing itshead.
Not to me, but to him.
My breath catches as I feel the earth hum again to me, that low thrumming pulse that speaks in rhythm instead of words. This moment is a welcomed one.
Torryn exhales shakily at my side, shock in his tone. “It’s been thousands of years since anyone has seen this spirit.”
A small gasp falls from me at that. I’m witnessing history in the making, despite not remembering my own.
The dragon’s head shifts, slow and weightless, trailing ribbons of light like smoke in its wake. It turns toward me and holds still, the glow in its chest brightening. It lets out a quick, sharp breath of air before turning back toward Torryn.
He stands rooted beside me, his bare chest rising and falling with each breath, as if he’s staring down a god. He doesn’t posture like a powerful king.
I feel it in him…the reverence. The weight of being seen by something greater. The tension in his spine and the way his fingers flex once at his sides, like he doesn’t know whether to kneel or stay still.
I don’t dare speak and interrupt the moment. The air feels too sacred for noise, like one wrong word might break the fragile moment.
So I just watch in appreciation of experiencing this alongside him as the spirit draws closer. Eventually, its long neck cranes down to touch its snout to Torryn’sforehead. Light pulses once, passing through Torryn, and his breath stutters.
My heart thrums in time with the pulse of its light, like some hidden part of me recognizes it.
I don’t understand what I’m seeing, but I know I’ll never forget this…the quiet awe of standing next to someone as their world changes.
Chapter 11
Torryn
The dragon lowers its head until its snout brushes my forehead. Its scales shimmer with silver-blue light, flickering as if lit by the stars themselves.
