Every fear whispereddon’t touch, don’t you dare touch, you know what you can do—
I knew from records of old that dragons were predisposed to be far less susceptible to magic. Resistant. Grounded. Ancient.
But could I risk it?
He was just so beautiful.
And he was rare. True dragons – there were so few left now.
Too big, too powerful, too impossible to exist in the same space as me—and still, some part of me ached toward him.
Before I could move—
Before I could even decide—
He moved for me.
The massive head dipped, impossibly gentle, and his nose brushed the fabric-wrapped part of my hand.
A feather-light touch.
A huff of hot breath ghosted over my wrist.
And I didn’t kill him.
I didn’t hurt him.
The power stayed quiet, dormant, like it recognised him.
Like it knew better than I did that he wasn’t afraid.
Heat surged up my throat—relief so sharp it almost hurt.
He drew back slightly, watching me with that molten-gold eye, waiting to see if I’d panic or flee or break.
I didn’t.
I let out a shaking breath I didn’t realise I’d been holding.
“You’re real,” I whispered.
His tail curled once across the cave floor—slow, controlled, like a silent acknowledgement.
And something in my chest—small, fragile, half-dead—stirred.
He wasn’t just real.
He’d chosen not to hurt me.
And somehow, impossibly—
He trustedmefirst.
“Did you—did you save me?” I asked out loud.
He watched me carefully with that ancient, molten gaze…
and nodded.
