Chapter 25

TWENTY-FIVE

T he morning sun cast prismatic rainbows through Nova Aurora’s crystalline mountains as Quinn double-checked her equipment. Finally, everything was working—no snipped wires, no crushed sensors, no further interference.

The tremors had intensified overnight, and the palace walls had reported multiple new fracture patterns forming across the kingdom’s northern border. She needed to investigate—preferably alone.

“You’re not going alone.”

Quinn squeezed her eyes shut at the deep voice behind her. Of course. The universe conspired against her today.

“I don’t need a babysitter, Kai.” She turned to find him already geared up for the expedition, looking unfairly attractive in fitted black thermal gear. “I’m perfectly capable of?—”

“Of falling into another crevasse?” He raised an eyebrow, reaching past her to lift her heavy pack. “Consider this a collaborative effort.”

“Give me that.” She grabbed for the pack, but he held it out of reach. Stupid tall dragon. “What happened to all that talk about respecting my independence?”

“What happened to all that talk about accepting help when it’s offered?” His lips twitched. “Besides, these are my mountains. I know them better than anyone.”

“Really?” She crossed her arms. “Tell me the mineral composition of the eastern ridge.”

His mouth opened, closed, then curved into a reluctant smile. “Point taken. But I still know the safe paths.”

“Fine.” She grabbed her second pack stuffed with emergency supplies. “But no hovering, no overprotective dragon nonsense, and absolutely no carrying me around like some damsel in distress.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” His voice suggested he absolutely would dream of it.

They set out as the twin suns climbed higher, casting double shadows across the snow. The terrain grew treacherous quickly—narrow paths winding between towering ice formations, deep crevasses hidden beneath deceptively stable-looking snow bridges.

Quinn noticed Kai watching her carefully navigate each obstacle, his hand twitching toward her whenever she got too close to an edge. The protective instinct should have annoyed her. Instead, it sparked something warm in her chest that she refused to examine too closely.

“These fracture patterns are bizarre,” she muttered, kneeling to examine a particularly deep crack in the ice. “They’re propagating against the natural stress lines of the rock. It’s like they’re being... pulled apart from the inside.”

“Magic can affect geology in ways science doesn’t account for.” Kai crouched beside her, close enough that she caught his scent—pine and smoke and something uniquely him.

“Magic should still follow basic physical laws.” She traced the crack with her finger, trying to ignore how his proximity made her skin tingle. “Unless...”

A tremor rippled through the ground. Kai’s hand landed on her back, steadying her before she could wobble.

“I can walk on my own, you know,” she said, but her voice lacked its usual bite.

“So you say.” His hand lingered a moment too long. “But the crevasse incident suggests otherwise.”

“Are you ever going to let that go?”

“No.” His tone softened. “Because the thought of losing you to these mountains haunts me.”

The raw honesty in his voice made her chest tight. She stood quickly, needing distance. “We should keep moving. The readings get stronger near the summit.”

They climbed higher, the air growing thinner and colder. Quinn’s equipment beeped steadily, tracking the seismic disturbances. But her focus kept slipping to Kai—how he moved with casual grace despite his size, how his eyes scanned constantly for threats, how he positioned himself between her and the steeper drops without being obvious about it.

As the suns began to set, painting the ice in shades of gold and rose, they found a relatively sheltered spot to make camp. Kai got a fire going with a casual breath of flame that definitely didn’t make Quinn’s stomach flip.

“Show off,” she muttered.

His low chuckle sent shivers down her spine.

They sat in companionable silence, watching the flames dance. Quinn pulled out her notebook, reviewing the day’s readings, but her attention kept drifting to Kai’s profile in the firelight.

“My father would have liked you,” he said suddenly, his voice quiet.

She looked up, surprised. “Why’s that?”

“Your dedication. Your fierce independence. He valued those qualities.” Kai stared into the flames. “He died defending this kingdom. Left me with a legacy I’m not sure I can preserve.”

The vulnerability in his voice struck something in her. Without thinking, she reached out, placing her hand on his arm. “Hey. You’re doing everything you can.”

He covered her hand with his, and electricity sparked between them. His skin burned hot against hers, dragon-warm and somehow exactly right. Their eyes met, and for a moment, the world narrowed to just this—his golden gaze, her racing heart, the magnetic pull drawing them closer.

Quinn jerked her hand back, her cheeks burning. “I should check the readings again.”

“Quinn.” The way he said her name made her shiver. “You don’t have to keep running.”

“I’m not running.” She busied herself with her equipment. “I’m working. Which is what I came here to do, remember?”

“Is that all you came for?”

The question hung in the air between them, heavy with implications she wasn’t ready to face.

“You’re doing it again,” she said instead.

“Doing what?”

“Being all...” She waved her hand vaguely. “Brooding. Like some overgrown lizard with emotional baggage.”

To her surprise, he laughed—a real laugh, deep and rich. “And you’re being a firecracker with a death wish. We make quite the pair.”