Inside the healing hall, the air had gone still the frantic energy of the emergency passed, replaced now with a tense, watchful quiet.

  Malachite lay pale and still on a low cot, her chest rising and falling in slow, shallow breaths. Fresh bandages wrapped her ribs, her arms, her legs, a faint golden glow still humming over her skin where the healers’ magic lingered, stabilizing her battered body.

  Axel sat on a low stool beside her, hunched forward, his elbows on his knees, his eyes fixed on her face. He hadn’t moved for over an hour. Not even when the healers softly urged him to rest.

  Not even when Malachite’s father had slipped inside quietly to check on her, resting a heavy, grateful hand on Axel’s shoulder before quietly stepping back out.

  Axel’s jaw was tight, his hands just as restless as the rest of him felt. Every time Malachite’s fingers twitched, every time her brow furrowed or her chest hitched his heart leapt painfully in his throat.

  “Come on, hammer girl,” he murmured softly, his voice rough, almost hoarse from holding back everything surging inside him. “You have to pull through this.”

  He reached out, his big hand trembling faintly as he brushed a loose strand of sweaty green-streaked hair back from her face. “You’re always telling me off,” he whispered, his throat tightening, offering a small but watery smile. “Always rolling your eyes at me, calling me bossy, don't you dare leave me hanging now.”

  Malachite’s cracked lips twitched faintly, barely a flicker.

  Axel let out a shaky laugh, blinking quickly, dragging his other hand roughly over his face. “Gods, Mal…” he breathed, voice breaking. “I didn’t even know I didn't realize until today…”

  He leaned forward slowly, pressing his forehead gently against the side of her arm, his breath shaky, his eyes squeezed shut. “Please,” he murmured. “Come back to me.”

  The faint golden hum of the healing magic pulsed softly, the only sound in the quiet room.

  And Axel sat there, unmoving, holding vigil at her side waiting, hoping, silently praying for the girl who’d stormed her way into his heart without even realizing it.

  Axel stayed right where he was perched on the edge of the stool, elbows on his knees, his head bowed low, his fingers lightly resting near Malachite’s pale hand on the blanket. His eyes were heavy-lidded, red-rimmed, exhaustion dragging at every line of his body.

  But he didn’t sleep. He didn’t move. He waited.

  A faint sound broke the hush.

  A small, shaky breath. Axel’s head shot up, his eyes wide, heart slamming hard in his chest. “Mal?” he rasped, voice hoarse.

  Malachite’s brow furrowed faintly, her eyelids fluttering, the faintest whisper of a frown pulling at the corner of her mouth. Her fingers twitched weakly under his.

  Axel let out a rough, choked laugh, his hand caught hers gently, squeezing it. “Hey hey, hammer girl, it’s okay,” he murmured, his voice cracking as he leaned in closer, his face alight with raw, aching relief. “I’m here, Mal. You’re safe.”

  Malachite’s eyes fluttered half-open, unfocused at first, glassy and heavy with exhaustion.

  Her cracked lips parted faintly, her breath rasping softly. “…Ax…?” she slurred weakly.

  Axel laughed again, watery and shaking, blinking hard against the sting in his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, it’s me,” he whispered quickly. “You really know how to scare the shit out of a guy, you know that?”

  Malachite gave the faintest, breathless huff of a laugh more a tiny exhale than a sound, her eyelids drooping again. “…bossy…” she mumbled a tired smirk flickering across her pale face.

  Axel let out a soft, shaky sound, part laugh, part sob and pressed his forehead lightly to the back of her hand, his shoulders trembling.

  “Yeah,” he whispered hoarsely. “Damn right I’m bossy.”

  For a long, fragile moment, they stayed like that, her faint, shaky breath filling the heavy quiet of the healing hall.

  Outside, the world waited. But inside this tiny, glowing room, it was just Axel and Malachite, tangled together in stubborn, battered survival. Malachite’s eyelids fluttered again, her brow furrowing faintly. Her lips parted, her breath hitched, and for a second her body tensed weakly under the blankets.

  Axel straightened sharply, his hands tightening gently on hers.

  “Mal? Hey- hey, it’s okay, I’m here,” he murmured quickly, his voice low, trying to soothe. “You’re safe. You’re safe.”

  But Malachite gave a faint, strained whimper, her cracked voice rasping past dry lips. “…Imogen…”

  Axel froze, his chest tightening hard. “I-Imogen?” he echoed softly.

  Malachite’s weak, glazed eyes flickered up toward him, panic rising faintly in her face. “Where… where’s… the queen…?” she whispered, her breath thin, trembling. “Did she… is she…?”

  “Shhh, shh, no, no, no,” Axel rushed quickly, his voice cracking faintly as he reached out, brushing her damp hair gently back. “She’s safe, Mal. She’s okay. I swear, she’s okay.”

  Malachite let out a shaky breath exhale, a flicker of relief crossing her battered features. Her body slumped weakly against the blankets, the tension melting out of her with sheer exhaustion.

  Axel exhaled shakily, pressing his forehead lightly against her hand, his voice rough. “Gods, Mal… even half-dead, you’re still worried about her.”

  Malachite gave a faint, cracked little smirk, her eyes fluttering shut again.

  “…queen first… always…” she murmured weakly.

  Axel let out a small, breathless laugh, soft and raw his heart thudding hard against his ribs. “Yeah,” he whispered, his voice trembling faintly. “Yeah… that’s you.”

  The pale light of dawn crept gently through the small window, casting soft golden beams across the healer’s hall.

  Malachite stirred faintly, her brow furrowing as the haze of exhaustion slowly loosened its grip. Her chest ached; her limbs felt heavy and sore, wrapped in layers of bandages and faint traces of cooling magic.

  But she was alive. With effort, she cracked her eyes open just enough to glance around.

  Her breath hitched softly. At the foot of her bed, slumped over awkwardly on a small stool, was Axel.

  He was half-shifted back from his dragon form, his shoulders hunched, his green scales still faintly glowing along his arms. His head rested against his crossed arms, mouth slightly parted as he breathed slow, deep, exhausted breaths. His usually sharp, teasing face was relaxed in sleep, the faintest crease of tension still lingering between his brows even in rest.

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  He looked… uncomfortable. And bone-tired.

  Malachite’s heart twisted faintly in her chest, a tiny, fond smile tugging weakly at the corner of her mouth.

  “Dummy…” she rasped softly, her voice rough and cracked from disuse. A soft sound made her glance toward the door.

  Imogen stood there, wrapped in a simple robe, her long black hair loose around her shoulders, her eyes wide and glimmering with quiet relief.

  She smiled gently, her hands clasped lightly in front of her. “Hey,” Imogen whispered softly, her voice warm, her eyes misty. “Welcome back, Mal.”

  Malachite gave a faint, shaky huff, her eyes softening as she looked at her friend. “…You okay, queenie…?” she murmured weakly.

  Imogen let out a soft, watery laugh, her shoulders shaking slightly as she stepped a little closer. “I should be asking you that, you stubborn rockhead.”

  Malachite gave a tired grin, her eyelids drooping slightly again. “…I’m fine…” she mumbled. “…just… tired…”

  Imogen watched her quietly, a gentle, bittersweet smile lingering on her lips. “You did good, Mal,” she whispered softly. “Rest now. We’ve got you.”

  Malachite’s eyes fluttered closed again, her smile faint but content her heart easing, just a little, knowing her queen and her dragon were safe.

  And in the chair by her bedside, Axel stirred faintly, shifting slightly in his awkward sleep, still unwilling to leave her side. Malachite’s brow furrowed faintly as her eyes fluttered half-open again. She struggled to pull herself just a little more upright, her bandaged arms trembling as she tried to shift.

  Imogen moved quickly, gently laying a hand on her shoulder to keep her from overexerting. “Easy,” she whispered softly, smiling warmly. “You’re okay, Mal.”

  Malachite let out a faint, rough huff, blinking slowly. Her eyes drifted past Imogen landing on Axel, still slumped over the edge of the bed, his green-scaled arm curled awkwardly along the mattress, his head resting on it, sound asleep.

  Malachite’s brow furrowed more. “…Why’s he here…?” she rasped weakly, her cracked lips twitching into the faintest frown. “Shouldn’t he… be off… doing something important…?”

  Imogen let out a soft, breathless laugh, her eyes shimmering warmly as she smoothed a bit of Malachite’s messy hair back. “Yeah,” she murmured gently, her voice teasing, “apparently that something important was sitting at your side all night like a worried puppy.”

  Malachite’s cheeks colored faintly a soft, tired flush under all the pale exhaustion. She gave a weak little huff, shaking her head slightly, her voice barely more than a rasp. “…He’s… such a dork…”

  Imogen let out a soft, amused laugh, brushing a stray lock of hair off Malachite’s forehead. “Yeah,” she teased lightly, her eyes twinkling, “but he’s your dork.”

  Malachite’s brow furrowed faintly.

  She squinted blearily up at Imogen, confusion flickering in her tired brown eyes. “…Wait… what…?” she rasped weakly. “Why… why are you calling him… my dork?”

  Imogen gave her a small, gentle grin, leaning in just slightly as if sharing a secret. “Mal,” she murmured softly, her voice warm and playful, “he’s your mate.”

  Malachite froze. Malachite’s brow furrowed sharply, her breath hitching as Imogen’s words hit her like a punch to the chest.

  “…Mate…?” she rasped softly, her voice thin, cracked. Then slowly, steadily her jaw clenched, her fists trembling faintly against the blankets.

  Imogen’s small, nervous smile faltered. “Mal-”

  “Don’t,” Malachite snapped, her voice cutting sharp despite the hoarseness. Her chest heaved faintly, bandaged ribs straining as her raw, wide eyes locked on Imogen. “Don’t you dare stand there and tell me this.”

  Imogen’s mouth opened slightly, eyes wide, but no words came.

  Malachite’s heart pounded wildly in her chest, her mind spinning, drowning in the sudden flood of memories.

  Her as a child, curled up by the hearth, listening to old songs, old stories, the legendary love tales of dragon kin and their fated mates… the fierce, loyal bonds, the wild, burning passion, the stories she’d clung to secretly in her heart even when she pretended she didn’t care…

  The dreams she’d carried quietly into adulthood, wishing for something just a little magical, just a little hers…

  And now- now she was hearing it secondhand, from someone else’s mouth, like it had been decided for her, without her knowing, without her feeling it.

  Her chest squeezed painfully, her voice breaking low as the fury surged up in a raw, wild wave. “I didn’t ask for this,” she whispered hoarsely, her eyes burning fiercely. “I didn’t choose this. I didn’t- I don’t-”

  A faint, groggy sound came from the foot of the bed as Axel stirred, blinking himself awake.

  “Mal…?” he murmured thickly, his eyes still heavy with sleep, confusion flickering across his face. “What’s wrong…?”

  Malachite’s sharp, furious gaze snapped toward him. “GET. OUT.”

  Axel froze, his body tensing hard as her words hit him full force. He pushed to his feet slowly, his face pale, wide-eyed, confused. “Mal, wait, I-”

  “OUT!” she barked sharply, her voice cracking with the raw, tangled emotion twisting in her chest. Her fists slammed weakly against the bed, her breath hitching roughly, trembling.

  Imogen flinched slightly, her chest tight, guilt flooding her face as she took a shaky step back.

  “Mal, I’m so sorry,” she whispered quickly.

  “I- I didn’t mean to-”

  “OUT!” Malachite rasped again, her voice breaking, tears burning hot in her eyes.

  “Both of you!”

  Imogen turned quickly, slipping through the door in a rush, her heart pounding hard. Axel followed, jaw clenched, casting one last confused, worried look over his shoulder before the door shut quietly behind them.

  Left alone, Malachite let out a shaky, guttural sound, curling slightly under the weight of everything crashing down on her. Her heart thudded painfully in her chest, her mind a storm of crushed hopes, disbelief, and tangled dreams.

  She squeezed her eyes shut tightly, the ache pressing sharp and brutal through every inch of her battered body.

  Malachite’s breath hitched faintly, her chest rising and falling in shaky, uneven gasps as the door clicked shut, leaving her alone.

  The room was so painfully quiet. She clenched the blankets faintly in her trembling fists, her heart pounding hard against her battered ribs.

  Why… Why didn’t I feel it?

  The question coiled sharp and cold through her mind, biting deeper and deeper.

  She squeezed her eyes shut, fighting back the burning sting at the corners.

  Was it because Axel was a dragon, a strong, full-blooded dragon kin and she was…

  She was just a drake.

  The harsh old words she’d spent years burying the sharp-edged things whispered by stronger warriors, the faint pity in elders’ voices, the quiet doubts she’d always stuffed down with humor and stubbornness They floated up now. Louder. Clearer.

  Not strong enough.

  Not enough magic.

  Not meant for anything bigger.

  Her throat tightened painfully, her cracked lips trembling faintly.

  She should be happy, right? To have a mate, to be loved, to be wanted, to be…To be someone’s.

  But all she could feel was this heavy, gnawing guilt twisting low in her chest.

  What if there’s something wrong with me? What if I’m supposed to feel it but I just… can’t? What if I’m failing him, even now, just by being me?

  Her fists squeezed tighter, her nails biting into the rough fabric.

  The smile she always kept the one she wore like armor, bright and teasing, tough and unbreakable was breaking now her face twisting as the weight pressed harder and harder on her.

  For the first time in a long time, Malachite let herself feel small. And the quiet, aching question slipped through her mind like a knife:

  What if Axel deserves more… than this?