Page 42 of Saving Her Dragon

"If Han can't find me..." Garrett started, his voice a raw, ragged whisper that cut off as a brisk breeze blew across the yard. He couldn't even force his tongue to finish the thought. If his own Dragon King couldn't track his essence inside their shared soul, he was completely unmoored.

"I can," Sydney said fiercely, her blue eyes shining as they locked onto his profile.

Turning his head slowly, Garrett knew his gaze was hollow and dark because it was how he felt on the inside, and he couldn't change it. "You couldn't last night, Syd. You felt the void. I was lying in bed beside you, and I was gone."

The words were a direct hit, a brutal truth that knocked the wind out of her. Her jaw tightened as she absorbed the hit while refusing to offer a hollow reassurance or a soft lie. He was so glad she didn't tell him everything would be fine, but instead acknowledged the tactical reality of the failure.

"Then I'll learn how.” Sydney promised, her voice striking the morning quiet like iron.

Garrett stared at her, the hard line of his mouth softening just a fraction. It was a vow from a Warrior who recognized they were losing ground and was already changing her strategy. He could see the conviction in her eyes; Syd would figure out how to follow his soul, no matter what void it dropped into.

Garrett and Sydney stepped back into the kitchen as Darcy clicked her bag shut. Her expression was tight and analytical.

“What the Dragon King described does not fit a single known neurological trauma model. And before you ask, Han's sudden breakthrough didn't frighten me. It intrigued me,” Darcy stated flatly, looking over at Carrick and Grey. "A dissociative fugue state can explain memory loss or automatic physical actions. It cannot explain a spiritual void that takes a very old and experienced Winged Warrior offline from the inside out."

Carrick crossed his massive arms. "Are you saying this is a Magical invasion, Doctor?"

"I'm a scientist, Elder," Darcy countered smoothly, clicking her bag shut. "I'm not saying this is Magical. But I am saying I can't prove it is medical. We keep both variables active."

Sitting down at the island, Garrett tracked his pen across the pages as he systematically re-analyzed the evidence matrix.

Dates. Times. Specific symptoms.

The Creek Bank: Caked gray clay. Stride uniform.

The Vanity: The missing blue hair ribbon.

The Closet: Carrick's golden-mounted tie tack.

The Digital Log: The 3:42 AM ink entry.

Sydney leaned over his shoulder, her eyes tracking the precise columns of his handwriting. Suddenly, her finger dropped onto the page, tapping the ink. "Look at the timing, Garrett. It’s not just the notebook."

Darcy stepped closer, her interest piqued. "What do you see?"

“The mud was already bone-dry at 6:15. That puts whatever happened hours earlier. And twice now, we've got 3:42 staring us in the face. Maybe it's coincidence, but I don't think we can treat it like one anymore.” Sydney calculated rapidly.

Darcy narrowed her eyes. "Why 3:42?"

The room went quiet. Nobody had a medical diagnosis or a Dragonkin legend that mapped to those specific digits.

"What happened at 3:42?" Carrick asked suddenly, his deep voice cutting through the diagnostic static.

Garrett looked up from the page. "When?"

"The first time," Carrick clarified, stepping toward the table. "Was there a specific tactical event during your captivity or your rescue that occurred at that exact time? Did something happen to your Bond with Han at 3:42?"

The question reframed the entire problem. The numbers shifted from spooky, unexplained window dressing into hard tactical evidence. Carrick immediately pulled up the secure archives on his tablet, bringing up the classified logs from the day the Dragon Guard breached the filthy hole in the ground to pull Garrett out of the dark.

Sydney scanned the official rescue timeline line by line. Her heart hammered so loudly Garrett could hear it without their Mating Bond or the use of Magic.

02:15 — Perimeter breached.

03:10 — Lower containment levels secured.

04:05 — Garrett’s cell located.

Nothing matched. Garrett hadn't been rescued or extracted at 3:42 AM. The number remained completely unexplained by the empirical data of his survival.