Dawlya’s Dragon
That terrified her more than any attack.
The Circle stirred. Her dragon stirred with it. Both reached outward seeking. And found Cain.
A low, involuntary growl vibrated through him. He stepped closer, nuzzling beneath her jaw. Heat pulsed between them, not physically magical, an ancient recognition flaring to life: Dragon. Dawlya. Mate. One.
The Circle reacted first. Silver threads of magic wrapped around Avi’s ribs like roots. Avi’s dragon answered expanding, welcoming, hungry for connection. Cain’s fire flared, wrapping around hers, not consuming but binding.
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