Chapter 277
Silence.
That was the first thing I noticed after the blast — not the smoke, not the debris, not even the blood. Just silence. Deafening, unrelenting silence.
It pressed in on my skull like a vice as I opened my eyes, coughing against the soot that clung to my lungs. The chamber was no longer bright — the core’s pulse had dimmed. The golden light of the dragonfire had vanished, and what remained was dull, dying.
I pushed myself up slowly, blinking against the haze.
The Bone King was gone.
No twisted figure. No flame-stitched robes. No trace of his body or the shadow he had become. Just a cracked, scorched mark on the stone floor where we had collided.
But something felt wrong.
“Kyral?” I called out, heart already racing.
No answer.
I scrambled to my feet, limping over the rubble, eyes scanning for gold. “Kyral!”
A low groan answered from the far side of the chamber.
It wasn’t her.
It was the Alpha.
He was slumped against the broken wall, blood dripping from his temple, sword still clenched in his hand. He lifted his head slowly as I approached.
“You’re alive,” he rasped, relief flickering in his eyes.
“Barely,” I said. “Are you hurt?”
“Nothing I won’t heal from.” His gaze turned sharp. “Where is she?”
My chest tightened. “I don’t know.”
And then—
A sound.
A crackling. Like burning embers shifting.
I turned.
From beneath a slab of broken crystal, gold flickered.
“Kyral!” I ran, adrenaline surging through me. I dropped to my knees and began to move the rubble piece by piece with shaking hands. Mirella appeared behind me seconds later, her magic helping lift the heavier shards.
And then we saw her.
Curled beneath the rock, Kyral’s body was still glowing faintly, but her wings were crushed and torn, one of them pinned beneath a jagged stone. Her breathing was shallow, labored.
“No, no, no,” I whispered. “You’re okay. You’re going to be okay.”
She opened her eyes, just barely, and looked at me.
“Did we win?”
Tears spilled down my cheeks.
“You saved me,” I whispered. “You saved all of us.”
Mirella laid a hand on her side, her expression grim. “She’s alive. But barely.”
“Can you heal her?”
“There’s a way,” she said slowly, eyes meeting mine. “But it’s ancient. Dangerous. And it will take both of you.”
I didn’t hesitate. “Tell me what to do.”
We returned to Westeroz under a fractured sky.
The people gathered on the battlements when they saw us — their queen bloodied, Kyral barely breathing in my arms, the Alpha limping but alive. There were no cheers, no songs. Just a quiet reverence. A held breath.
We’d survived.
But at what cost?
Mirella brought us to the Temple of Rebirth — a hollow chamber built beneath the castle’s roots. It hadn’t been used in centuries, its flame long dormant, its rituals nearly forgotten.
“This is the cradle of bondfire,” she explained, brushing dust off a circular altar carved with phoenix feathers and dragon scales. “It’s where dragon queens once merged with their soul beasts to restore life.”
She turned to me.
“You can share your life force with her. Heal her body. But if the bond fails… you’ll both die.”
I didn’t flinch. “She’s my soul. If she dies, I die anyway.”
The Alpha moved forward, his eyes stormy. “There has to be another way.”
“There isn’t,” Mirella said gently. “This is older than both our lines. This is blood magic… of the purest kind.”
He looked at me, jaw clenched. “If you do this—”
“I have to,” I cut in. “She gave everything for me. I won’t let her fade.”
He opened his mouth again, then stopped.
And nodded.
The ritual began at twilight.
Kyral lay on the altar, her breathing faint but steady. I stood beside her, palms pressed to her scales, the Elderblade resting between us.
Mirella’s voice rang out in the chamber — low and melodic, ancient words that stirred the very walls.
“Blood of flame, soul of gold, awaken the thread that cannot be severed…”
My veins ignited.
The altar flared beneath us, and Kyral’s body rose slightly, suspended in the light. I felt my soul stretch — tugged toward her — as if our spirits were tethered by fire itself.
Pain struck.
Like molten metal poured into my spine.
I cried out, falling to my knees, but I didn’t let go. I couldn’t.
Kyral opened her mouth — a sharp, gasping breath escaping her lips.
“Don’t let go,” she whispered into my mind.
“I won’t,” I answered.
The fire built. We were wrapped in it. Two souls — queen and dragon — spiraling around each other in the heart of something older than death.
And then—
Stillness.
Not silence.
Stillness.
Kyral’s eyes opened — fully.
She blinked once, then twice, her golden pupils dilated.
And then she spoke.
Not with thoughts. Not with whispers.
But with her voice.
“I’m here.”
I collapsed, exhausted, the last of my magic draining from me. Kyral caught me with her snout, nuzzling my cheek like a mother would a newborn.
Mirella stepped back, a soft smile playing on her lips.
“You’ve done it,” she said. “You’re now more than bonded. You’re fused. Your life is her flame. Her flame is your breath.”
When I woke the next day, the castle was quiet.
But the stillness felt different this time — not fear, but peace. We’d won a battle. Not the war. But a battle.
I found Kyral perched on the eastern spire, wings extended in the morning sun.
She turned her head as I approached.
“You slept too long,” she teased, her voice still new and strange, like velvet layered over fire.
I grinned. “You talk now?”
“I always did,” she said smugly. “You just weren’t ready to hear me.”
I laughed, and for a moment, I forgot everything. The prophecy. The war. The darkness that still loomed.
For a moment, it was just me and her.
A girl and her dragon.
A queen and her heart.
And maybe… that was enough
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