POV: Ravenna
I couldn't sleep.
Again. This was becoming a pattern.
I lay in bed staring at the ceiling, thinking about tomorrow. About experts examining Solace like she was evidence in a trial. About Cassian's cold smile. About whispers and doubts and political games I was so tired of playing.
Finally, I gave up.
I threw on a robe and headed for the ramparts. Our place. The spot where Theron and I kept finding each other when the world got too heavy.
The night air was cool against my face as I climbed the stairs. The stars were bright, scattered across the sky like diamonds on black velvet. Beautiful. Peaceful.
Unlike everything else in my life right now.
I reached the top of the ramparts and stopped.
Theron was already there.
Of course he was. Because apparently we'd developed the same coping mechanism for sleepless nights.
He stood at the wall, hands braced against the stone, looking up at the stars. He didn't turn when I approached but his shoulders relaxed slightly.
Felt me through the bond. Knew I was here before I'd said a word.
"Couldn't sleep either?" I asked quietly.
"No." His voice was rough. "Kept thinking about tomorrow. About the investigation."
I moved to stand beside him, close enough that our shoulders almost touched. "Same."
We stood in silence for a moment. Just breathing. Just existing together in the quiet dark.
"I keep expecting someone to announce the Dragon's Choosing was a mistake," Theron said finally. "That Solace didn't really choose me. That it was all some cosmic error and I need to leave before I embarrass everyone further."
My heart clenched. "Theron—"
"I know it's irrational." He looked at me. "I know Solace chose me. I felt it. Havoc felt it. The bond is real." He paused. "But ten years of rejection doesn't just disappear because one dragon said yes. Part of me is still waiting for the other shoe to drop."
"There is no other shoe." I reached out and took his hand. "Solace chose you. Absolutely. Completely. Without hesitation or doubt."
"I believe you." His voice was soft. "But belief and fear don't always align."
Gods, I understood that. Better than he knew.
I sat on the stone ledge, pulling him down beside me. "Tell me about the rejections. The actual moments when dragons chose someone else."
He looked surprised. "Why?"
"Because you said you've been through enough rejections to know what genuine dragon response looks like." I squeezed his hand. "So tell me. What did it look like when dragons rejected you versus when they were uncertain?"
He was quiet for a long moment. Then: "The first rejection—Elara—her dragon didn't recognize Havoc at all. Just looked at him with complete indifference. Like he was furniture." He swallowed. "That's what most rejections look like. Indifference. No spark. No interest. Just—nothing."
"And Solace wasn't indifferent to Lucien."
"No." His voice was firm. "She SNARLED at him. Threatened with flames. That's not indifference. That's active repulsion. That's seeing something fundamentally wrong and rejecting it violently."
"So there's no question she meant it."
"None." He looked at me directly. "Dragons don't fake that kind of response. They can't. It's too primal, too instinctual. What Solace felt for Lucien was real. Absolute. Unquestionable."
"Then why does Cassian think an investigation will find anything?"
"Because he's not looking for truth." Theron's voice went hard. "He's looking for doubt. For whispers. For anything that makes the Dragon's Choosing seem questionable." He paused. "He doesn't need to prove magical interference. He just needs to plant enough doubt that people question Solace's judgment."
"Politics," I muttered.
"Politics," he agreed.
We sat in silence again. The stars wheeled overhead. The volcanic plains stretched dark and endless below us.
"What happens if Cassian somehow manipulates the outcome?" I asked quietly. "If he finds some expert willing to say Solace's choice was compromised?"
"Then I walk away."
I turned to stare at him. "What?"
"If the investigation declares the Dragon's Choosing invalid—if you're forced to choose again—I walk away." His voice was calm. Steady. Like he'd already decided. "I won't let you be trapped in a political mess because of me."
"No." The word came out sharp. Fierce. "Absolutely not."
"Ravenna—"
"Solace chose YOU." I gripped both his hands now. "Not because of politics or manipulation or anything except genuine recognition. She chose you because you're right for us. For me." My voice cracked. "I don't want you to walk away."
His expression shifted. Something vulnerable flickering in his eyes. "Even if it means dealing with House Ashford's protests? With Cassian's games? With nobles whispering that I'm unsuitable?"
"Especially then." I pulled his hands to my chest, over my heart. "I've spent my whole life running from things that scared me. From vulnerability. From connection. From FEELING anything real." I swallowed hard. "But you—you make me want to stop running. You make me want to be brave enough to stay."
"Ravenna—" His voice was rough.
"I'm falling for you." The words came out before I could stop them. Before I could overthink or panic or talk myself out of honesty. "I've been falling for weeks. Maybe from the moment you walked into that competition hall late and Solace recognized Havoc. And it terrifies me more than assassins or investigations or anything else." I met his eyes. "But I don't want you to walk away. I want you to STAY. I want to figure this out together."
He stared at me. "You're—you're falling for me?"
"Is that really so surprising?"
"Yes!" He laughed shakily. "Ravenna, I'm—I'm nobody. Common-born. Scarred. Rejected five times. I have nothing to offer you except—"
"Except everything I need." I cupped his face with one hand. "You're honest when everyone else performs. You're steady when everything else is chaos. You took an arrow for me without thinking. You came running when you felt my fear through the bond. You've endured court judgment and Lucien's attacks and never complained." My voice dropped. "You're exactly who I need. Who Solace knew I needed from the beginning."
His breath caught. "I don't know what to say."
"Say you'll stay." I leaned forward until our foreheads touched. "Say you won't walk away even if Cassian makes this difficult. Say you'll fight for this—for US—as hard as I'm going to fight for it."
"I'll stay." His voice was barely above a whisper. "I'll fight. I'll do whatever it takes." He pulled back slightly to look at me. "But Ravenna—if they force you to choose again—"
"Then I'll choose you again." I said it firmly. Absolutely. "I'll choose you every time. In every lifetime. In every version of this story." I smiled slightly. "Solace chose you. And I'm choosing to trust her judgment. To trust YOU."
"Even though it's terrifying?"
"Especially because it's terrifying." I echoed Morgana's words from earlier. "If it didn't scare me, it wouldn't matter. But you matter. This matters. We matter."
He kissed me.
Soft. Gentle. Like I was something precious he was afraid of breaking.
I kissed him back, pouring everything I couldn't say into it. All the fear and hope and desperate certainty that this was right even when everything else was wrong.
When we pulled apart, we were both breathing hard.
"I'm falling for you too," he said quietly. "Have been since you defended me at dinner against Lucien. Since you looked at my rejection scars and called them proof of survival instead of weakness." He traced my cheekbone with his thumb. "You're the first person in ten years who looked at me and chose to stay. Who saw past the scars and rejections to—to whoever I am underneath."
"You're brave," I said. "You're kind. You're patient and steady and impossibly strong." I smiled. "And you're mine. Cassian can protest all he wants. The investigation can scrutinize Solace's every breath. None of it changes the truth."
"What truth?"
"That we're bonded. That our dragons chose each other. That I'm falling for you and you're falling for me and we're going to figure this out." I laced our fingers together. "Together."
"Together," he repeated, and this time it sounded like a vow.
We sat on the ramparts until dawn started painting the sky grey. Didn't talk much. Just held hands and existed together while the world turned.
Tomorrow, the investigation would begin. Experts would examine Solace. Cassian would play his games. Politics would be politics.
But tonight—just for these few stolen hours—we were just us. Two people who'd found each other against all odds. Who were brave enough to fall despite being terrified.
Who were choosing each other every single day.
"No matter what happens," I said as the first light touched the horizon, "promise me you won't let Cassian make you doubt this. Doubt us."
"I promise." He squeezed my hand. "If you promise the same."
"I promise." I leaned my head on his shoulder. "We're stronger together than apart. Cassian's going to figure that out the hard way."
"Poor Cassian," Theron said dryly.
I laughed. "You're starting to sound like me."
"Is that bad?"
"Depends. Do you want to pick up my habit of throwing things when angry?"
"I'll pass on that one."
"Probably wise."
We sat together as dawn broke over Cindravale. The volcanic plains turned gold and red in the early light. Beautiful and harsh and HOME.
Whatever came next, we'd face it.
Together.
And that made all the difference.