Behind the rocks, Imogen sobbed in relief, her hands flying to her mouth as Darius’s fury unleashed upon the cavern. She couldn’t move. Could barely breathe. But she felt it in her bones she wasn’t alone anymore.

  The rescue had arrived.

  Axel’s boots slammed into the rock. He moved like fire through the serpents until his eyes locked onto her.

  Malachite.

  Broken. Bleeding. Barely upright. His world lurched.

  Everything stopped for half a second: the battle, the noise, the chaos. All that remained was the image of her: armor shattered, blood trailing down her rocky limbs, her draconic face barely lifted, glowing eyes still defiant through the pain.

  Axel didn’t breathe.

  Then he moved.

  Faster than thought, he was at her side, cutting down the last serpent between them. He dropped beside her, claws trembling, voice breaking.

  “Mal! Mal, gods look at me,” he rasped, kneeling before her massive, slumped form. “You’re alright. You’re okay. I’m here.”

  Malachite blinked slowly, a faint breath leaving her cracked chest.

  “Took you… long enough,” she whispered, her voice dry as ash.

  Axel let out a shaky laugh, pressing his hand on her broken body. “I’ve got you,” he murmured. “You’re not doing this alone.”

  And she didn’t let go. She rasped, her voice thin and trembling “…didn’t… think you’d show up…”

  Then, her body gave out.

  With a sharp, rattling thud, her massive form collapsed.

  “Mal!” Axel’s roar tore through the cavern, raw and shattering. He lunged forward, catching as much of her heavy body as he could in his arms, claws scraping against cracked stone.

  But she was too still.

  Too quiet.

  Something deep inside him snapped.

  A fire erupted in his chest wild, ancient, furious. Not just rage but terror. Something too big for words. Something rooted in every piece of him that knew she was his.

  His muscles trembled violently. His pulse surged.

  He couldn’t breathe.

  With a savage, guttural snarl, Axel’s body erupted into motion magic roaring to life. Scales tore across his skin like wildfire, emerald green and flecked with gold. His horns curled forward, sleek and vicious. Wings wide and sharp-edged, flaring out with a shuddering snap.

  Gone was the easygoing second-in-command.

  In his place stood a full-blooded dragon. Sleek, lethal, furious. His eyes burned bright with something primal, something terrifying, something claimed.

  With a roar that made the cavern quake, Axel surged forward positioning himself directly over Malachite’s fallen body, massive wings flaring wide, tail lashing behind him.

  The serpents lunged and Axel met them head-on.

  He moved like a storm faster, fiercer than he ever had in his life. Claws ripped into scale and bone, teeth slashing through sinew. He didn’t hold back. He couldn’t. Because Malachite was down. And if they got past him they’d never get up again.

  His heart beat in time with hers even weakened, he could feel it through the smoke and blood. Faint. Fading.

  But still fighting. So he fought for both of them.

  Axel tore into them with pure, feral rage.

  He slammed one serpent into the cavern wall so hard the stone cracked. Another he crushed beneath his claws, bones snapping like twigs. His tail lashed out with devastating force, sending bodies flying. Every roar that left his throat echoed like thunder, vibrating through the stone walls a declaration of war and grief and fury all at once.

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  From across the battlefield, Darius caught the sound turned toward it with a sharp breath.

  And froze.

  For just a heartbeat, even the Dragon King was stunned.

  Because Axel was no longer Axel.

  The sleek, emerald-scaled dragon ripping through the serpents was a storm unleashed. His claws flashed like blades, his jaws crushed bone, and his tail smashed through everything in his path unrelenting, explosive, wild.

  Darius watched, burning with fierce approval.

  “There you are…” he muttered, chest heaving.

  Because this, this was not training.

  This wasn’t discipline.

  This was a man possessed.

  And Axel wasn’t just fighting like someone who wanted to win. He was fighting like someone who had already lost.

  Axel's mind surged with every image that had been seared into him that brought him to this point.His claws smashed through a serpent’s skull, spraying gore across the rocks.

  Her father’s voice echoed in his head. She’s a drake. She can’t fly.

  Axel’s teeth clamped down on another serpent, tearing it away from Imogen’s hiding place, flinging it across the cavern.

  And she still jumped.

  The thought ignited something deeper. Older. Bound.

  He let out a roar so loud it cracked the crystal formations overhead.

  The serpents faltered.

  But more were still coming.

  And Axel didn’t care.

  Because now they weren’t just fighting a dragon.

  They were fighting a mate on the edge of losing everything.

  A serpent lunged.Axel’s tail whipped out in a blur, slamming into its chest with a sickening crack. The creature crumpled, and the cavern trembled from the force of his roar, a furious, grief-stricken sound that shook stone loose from the ceiling.

  He saw her again.

  Malachite. Battered. Bloody. Barely standing. Barely breathing..

  “Axel…” she’d rasped.

  A sound tore from Axel’s throat, part roar, part snarl, as he hurled himself into the final wave of serpents like a living blade. His emerald scales flashed, claws a blur, wings crashing through stone and sinew, shielding her with everything he had left.

  Darius stood just behind, chest heaving, eyes narrowed.

  Something flickered behind the Dragon King’s gaze… Recognition.

  You’re not just my second, Darius thought, his claws curling. You’re her protector. And gods help you, you love her.

  The last of the serpents shrieked and fell under Axel’s wrath.

  The cavern quieted, trembling under the echo of his fury.

  But Imogen didn’t hear the silence.

  Her heart pounded too loud, her ears ringing with the chaos that had come before. She stumbled forward over the jagged rocks, hands scraped raw, knees buckling as she fell beside the broken figure crumpled in the dust.

  “Mal…” Her voice cracked. “Malachite!”

  Malachite’s drake form lay twisted and battered, stone plates cracked and bleeding from deep gashes. Her chest rose in uneven, shallow gasps.

  Imogen’s hands trembled as she reached out, pressing her fingers against a rocky arm still warm with faint magic.

  “Please…” she whispered, her voice breaking. “Please wake up…”

  A twitch.

  Malachite’s eyelids flickered.

  Her cracked, bloodied lips curled just barely at the edges.

  “...Imogen..?” she rasped.

  Her voice was barely air, rough and shredded with pain.

  “…You okay…?”

  Imogen let out a choked, broken sob.

  And threw her arms around her the best she could.

  “Y-you’re asking me if I’m okay?” Imogen half-laughed, half-sobbed, clutching tighter to Malachite’s massive, bloodied arm.

  “Mal, you’re…you’re…”

  Malachite’s glowing eyes softened, flickering faintly beneath her cracked stone brow.

  “…‘M fine…” she mumbled. “…just… tired…”

  Her body sagged, trembling the faint light in her eyes dimming dangerously.

  “Mal!” Imogen gasped, shaking her, panic rising like a tide. “Malachite, no stay with me please!”

  She could barely hear anything beyond the ragged thrum of her own heartbeat. The battle behind them was all but finished; the last serpents fell under Axel’s savage rage but Imogen didn’t notice. Her entire world had narrowed to the girl before her.

  The stubborn, reckless, fierce-as-hell knight who had thrown herself off a cliff to protect her. Who was now fading too fast.

  “Stay with me, Mal,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I need you. Please…”

  Malachite gave a crooked, broken smile.

  Then her eyes fluttered shut.