CHAPTER <b>82 </b>
The sun had climbed higher in the sky, casting dappled gold across the wooden floor of Anastasia’s room. The mood between then had lighted na rin hours passed—moreughter, fewer shadows. They’d traded old stories and small confessions, dancing cautiously around the weight of the past wit falling into it again. For the first time, Saphira felt like she was speaking with someone familiar, rather than someone defined by what they’d used,
Still, she felt the tug of time. Her dragon stirred softly within her, reminding her of the promise
she’d made.
Saphira nced toward the window, the light now angled enough to mark the time. “I should go,” she said gently, setting her empty <b>cup </b>aside. “Wilder is waiting for me. We’ve got some… connection work to do. With my dragon.”
Anastasia’s lips curved, a knowing warmth lighting her expression. “Good,” she said. “She’s part of you. The rest will fall into ce when you stop trying <b>to </b>carry all of it alone.”
Saphira tilted her head, intrigued.
“You don’t have to agree with her all the time,” Anastasia added, folding her hands. “You just have to trust that, at her core, she’s always trying to protect you. Even when it’s messy. Even when it’s loud.” Her voice gentled. “Maybe… it’s time to start trusting someone other than yourself.”
Saphira stilled at that, not because she disagreed–but because itnded with more uracy than she’d expected. Then she nodded once. “I’ll try.”
They rose together, meeting near the door. Anastasia opened her arms, tentative but sure. Saphira stepped into them, letting herself be held for a long, quiet beat. It wasn’t the kind of hug that fixed things–but it didn’t need to be. It simply <b>was</b><b>. </b>
“We’ll do this again soon,” Saphira said as they pulled apart<b>, </b>her hand brushing lightly against her mother’s arm. “I’d like that.”
“I’d like that too,” Anastasia whispered.
And with onest look–one more thread gently woven between them–Saphira turned and slipped out into the hallway, the door clicking softly behind her as she made her way toward the clearing.
Toward Niks. Toward the dragon half of herself that had waited long enough.
The clearing opened before Saphira like an old friend–familiar now, marked by the scents of pine and earth, and the distant hush of leaves catching the breeze. She stepped through the treeline, breath soft and steady, though her heart picked up slightly when she spotted him.
Niks stood in the middle of the de, his arms loosely folded, the sun brushing gold along his white hair. At the sound of her approach, he turned<b>–</b>and that smile appeared. The one carved with affection, dusted with a hint of mischief.
“You’rete,” he called, his voiceced with warmth.
Saphira winced dramatically, holding up her hands. “I left on time,” she said, walking toward him. “me the hallway distraction and not me.”
He opened his arms, and she stepped right into them, letting herself be gathered close. His chin brushed her temple before he murmured, “Stillte.”
She tilted her head to look up at him, eyes narrowing yfully. <b>“</b>Am I worth the wait, though<b>?</b><b>” </b>
Niks leaned in just a breath. “Always.”
That made her smile–one of those real ones that started small and then curled deep into her chest<b>. </b>She rested there a moment longer, tucked beneath his chin, before pulling back slightly. “So,” she said, “what’s the n?”
“Trust,” Niks replied, stepping back enough to meet her <b>gaze</b>. “Instinct. We’re focusing on that today–first in dragon form, then in human.<b>” </b>
Saphira lifted a brow. “Why dragon form first?“/
“Because when you’re in dragon form, it’s just you and Vaelora,” he said<b>. </b>“No distractions. No human overthinking. If you connect <b>with </b>her <b>first</b><b>, </b><b>everything </b>else–the human part, themunication–that’lle easier<b>.</b>”
She nodded slowly./Makes sense<b>.</b><b>” </b>
<b>CHAPTER </b><b>82 </b>
“Good,<b>” </b>he said. “Because once you shift. He paused, a small grin blooming <b>again</b>. “I want you to fly
<b>Her </b>eyes widened. “Wait–what?”
“Just trust,” he said calmly, as if he hadn’t asked her to leap off the ground on instinct alone. “Vaelora knows how. She was burn knowing <b>how</b>, Tan doet need to force anything. Just… trust her. Let her take the lead.”
Saphira stared at him, heart
tering. “You’re sure a
about this?”
“You can start small,” he said. “A few jumps. Feel the air beneath you. Get used to how she moves. But I believe she’s ready. And I think he reached for her hand, brushing his thumb along her wrist-“you are, too.”
And standing there, wrapped in sunlight and challenge, Saphira
felt
shift begin–not in her bones, but in her resolve.
Where once Saphira had stood on two feet, now she stood in scales–sleek and iridescent, her wings tucked close, talons flexing against the earth. Valora’s presence hummed through her like a heartbeat–calm, steady, waiting.
Niks had shifted beside her momentster, he gave a low huff
of
breath
and
crouched in invitation, and without words, they began.
Together, they moved–pounding across the clearing, wings tight to their backs <b>as </b>their limbs coiled andunched them into shallow jumps. The earth trembled beneath them, and each leap was stronger, higher, more fluid. Like breath, like instinct<b>. </b>
Saphira let out a soft growl <b>of </b>exhration, a sound that shimmered between creature and joy.
Then Niks turned. His dragon stepped alongside hers and nudged her nk <b>gently</b>, the <b>gesture </b>firm but encouraging.
<i>It’s </i>time.
He nodded once,
hisrge head tilting toward the far end <b>of </b>the clearing.
Saphira stilled. Her ws dug into the soft ground, heart surging with uncertainty–but not fear. Not anymore.
<i>Vaelora</i><i>? </i>she asked within.
7-
A breath. A pulse. I’m <i>here</i><b><i>, </i></b>came the reply. I’ve <i>always </i>been<i>. </i>
I trust you, Saphira thought. This time, fully. No walls. No doubt. <b>We’re </b>one–and <b>we </b>can do this. Let’s fly.
The dragon inside her didn’t speak again–didn’t need to. Instead, Vaelora’s strength rose through her<b>, </b>blooming in her limbs, coiling like power beneath her wings. Saphira moved beside Niks to the edge of the field.
Together, they ran.
The earth fell away beneath her as she pushed off with everything she had. Her wings snapped open, vast and gleaming, and for a single breath, she hovered
Then lifted.
Air roared past her scales as the wind caught Vaelora’s wings. And they rose–rising high, higher than instinct alone would dare. Not because of muscle. <b>But </b>because of trust.
Saphira didn’t think. She felt. And in that soaring moment, with Niks<b>‘ </b>dragon curving up beside her, the world opened wide–<b>and </b><b>she </b><b>flew</b>.