"Get up," Dreadscale said.
"Give me a minute."
"You don't have a minute." His voice scraped like bone on stone. "You have a vault waiting. A Codex that won't care if you're tired."
I wiped blood from my lip with the back of my hand—bit my tongue again, apparently—and glared up at him. "I'm pushing as hard as I can. Any harder and something breaks."
"Something always breaks at nineteen." He stepped closer, his shadow swallowing what little light reached this corner. "Same number. Every time. That's not your limit. That's your choice."
I ground my teeth together.
"I'm not holding back—"
"You are." His dark eyes pinned me. "The moment it starts to hurt, you let it shatter. You'd rather take the backlash than lose control."
"Then we have a problem." I spat red onto the stone. "Because I don't know how not to."
His expression hardened.
"Then I'll show you."
Before I could pull back, his hand locked around my forearm.
The dragon flashed. Ember-orange light erupted across his body, and a tether snagged behind my sternum, locking his Mirrorheart to my marks like a chain I hadn’t asked for.
"What are you—"
"I've linked the resonance." His voice was calm. Too calm. "If you break the fusion this time, the backlash doesn't hit you. It hits me."
My blood dropped ten degrees. "No. Unlink it. Now."
"Begin."
"Dreadscale, I'm unstable—I'll tear you apart—"
"Then don't be unstable." His grip hardened. "You claim you're ready to lead? To heal the Veil? Prove you can hold your power when someone else pays the price."
"This is insane—"
He pulsed his magic.
My marks exploded without permission—Light blazing and Shadow clawing. They collided, wild and jagged because he was in the line of fire and I couldn't—
"Focus."
I scrambled to catch the surge. Don't hurt him. Don't you dare—
One heartbeat. Two. Three.
The fusion caught, but it was rough. Unstable. Fear made everything volatile, harder to hold. My hands shook.
Ten. Eleven. Twelve.
The Shadow bucked against the Light, straining to break free.Usually I'd let it. Take the hit. Walk it off.
Then I saw the blood.
Thin and dark, trickling from Dreadscale's nose in a slow, deliberate line.
