Riven snorted. "Fair enough." He glanced back at the dwelling. "You care about her."
It wasn't a question.
"She dropped a boulder on a corrupted drake to save my life," Kael said. "She rode me without burning. She argues with me about everything and doesn't flinch when I shift. She's..." He trailed off, not sure how to finish that sentence.
"Interesting?" Riven supplied.
"Infuriating."
"You telling me those two words aren't mutually exclusive for you, huh!?"
Kael was quiet for a moment. "I meant what I said."
The Alpha studied him. "You first found her. So you're really going to let her decide? Even if she chooses to leave?"
"Yes. Because I'm a better male than most of you..."
"Or a more foolish one." Riven's laugh was quiet. "Maybe both." He clapped Kael on the shoulder. "Get some rest, dragon. You look like you fought a corrupted drake."
"I did fight a corrupted drake and others."
"Then definitely get some rest."
Riven started to walk away, then suddenly paused as if he just realised something important. "Lord Kael?"
"What now, Alpha?"
"She survived Drakemoor. Two days on foot, injured, with nothing but a human body." His ice-blue eyes were sharp in the twilight. "That shouldn't be possible."
Kael opened his mouth to respond, then closed it. He'd been so focused on protecting Michelle, on getting her to safety, that he hadn't really stopped to think about what she'd survived. The corrupted creatures. The miasma that hung thick in the deep Feral Lands. The bioluminescent fungi that were toxic to touch. The drake's ichor that had splattered everywhere during their fight. Yea, how is she still breathing fine.
Michelle should have been corrupted. At minimum, she should have been sick, poisoned, dying.Instead, she had a sprained knee and some cracked ribs from a bad landing.
"What are you saying?" Kael asked quietly.
"I'm saying your human is either the luckiest creature I've ever met, or she's not human at all." If she's more than a human than that's going to be huge problem. Riven's expression was unreadable. "Either way, she's going to attract attention. That's dangerous...especially under settlement law. You know we won't be able to protect her once word spreads." Riven's tone was serious now. "A human who survives Drakemoor untouched? Every warlord, every desperate clan, every power-hungry bastard will want to know how. And why? They'll want to study her. Use her. Breed her."
Kael's scales erupted across his arms, his control slipping. "They'll have to go through me then."
Riven met his eyes. "But you can't be with her every moment. And I can't extend my protection beyond Silverwood's borders. So figure out what she is, dragon. Figure out why she survived. Because if we don't understand it, you can't protect her longer from those who will."
And then the Alpha walked away, leaving Kael standing alone in the gathering darkness. Kael turned back to Mira's dwelling. Through the window, he could see the healer moving about, tending to something by the fire. Michelle was hidden from view, perhaps already asleep.
She rode me without burning.
The thought kept circling back. Dragon-heat was no joke—it was hot enough to sear flesh from a wide distance, to make even other beast-kin uncomfortable. Only bonded mates could withstand it, but that required a true and established connection, a mark, a link between souls.
Michelle had none of that with him and his dragon yet. She'd just... climbed on his back and held on. Like it was nothing.
And the corrupted drake's ichor. He'd been splattered with it too, and his scales had burned where it touched. But Michelle's exposed skin her hands, her face had shown no signs of damage. What are you, Michelle?
He didn't have an answer. And that bothered him more than he wanted to admit.
With a troubled sigh, Kael turned and walked toward his own guesthouse. He'd stayed at Silverwood enough times to maintain a small space at high altitude just a room, really, but it was private and secure. Its good that he can look over most territory from there and fly to ground whenever needed. He can't let Michelle out of his sight.
Inside the dwelling, Elder Mira finished banking the fire and sat in her rocking chair, listening to Michelle's steady breathing.
The girl was deeply asleep now, her body finally surrendering to exhaustion. In sleep, she looked even younger, more vulnerable. Her face was still smudged with dirt, and there were dark circles under her eyes. But she'd survived.
Mira had lived in the Feral Lands for fifty years. She'd treated hundreds of patients, seen every injury the wilds could inflict. She knew what corrupted exposure looked like the blackening veins, the rotten smell, the fever, and the exotic madness that followed.
Michelle had none of it. She'd walked through poison and emerged clean.
Mira stood slowly and moved to a locked chest in the corner of her dwelling. From it, she withdrew a worn leather journal, its pages yellowed with age. She'd read it so many times she'd practically memorised it, but tonight she needed to see the words again.
The journal had been given to her by the clan elder who'd found her fifty years ago, delirious and dying after a war broke between two beast tribes. Inside were fragments of prophecies, collected over centuries. Most were vague nonsense, the kind of thing desperate people clung to when times were dark. But one passage had always stuck with her:
"When corruption reaches its zenith, when the Feral Lands consume themselves, an angel will fall from the sky. Walking through poison untouched, riding dragon-fire unburned, they will be the key to salvation or doom. The Bridger returns, and with them, the choice: heal the wound between worlds, or let it fester until nothing remains."
Mira had always thought it was metaphorical. Poetic language about resilience or hope or some other abstract concept. She was skeptical of such writing as these could be imaginations or a mere emotional bursts. But watching Michelle sleep, remembering the way Kael had described her survival...What if it could be literal?
A soft knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. She opened it to find Riven standing there, his expression serious. "I need to talk about the human," he said quietly. Mira was his packs healer before he was even born and it was rule that an Alpha must discuss or take suggestion on matter he couldn't understand from either his Beta, if its wiser than him, his Luna if he had one and lastly his healer, the one who could never cause him pain as per the blood bond. So Riven had no better option than Mira.
Mira nodded and stepped outside, pulling the door closed behind her. They walked a short distance from the dwelling, far enough that they wouldn't wake Michelle but close enough to respond if needed.
"She survived Drakemoor," Riven said without preamble. "Kael's too close to see it clearly, but I am unable to get clarity on what that means."
"Tell me what you're thinking," Mira said carefully.
"I'm thinking no actual human survives two days in the deep Feral Lands without protection. It's full of corrupted ichor burns through leather and scale, but somehow left her skin untouched. Kael also told she rode his dragon in full form without bonding and felt nothing but warmth." Riven's ice-blue eyes were sharp. "So did you recognized anything when you saw her."
Mira said nothing for a long moment.
"I didn't recognize her specifically," she said finally. "But I'm doubtful what she might be. Writing of old gods and their old myths. They talk about some Bridger legends. And they're not mere legends, Alpha Riven." Mira's voice was soft but certain. "I've seen the texts. Fragments, scattered across different clans, different archives. They all tell the same story: there are certain humans who could walk between worlds, who were immune to corruption, who could sense and manipulate the rifts themselves."
"You say humans. Like a pack. I can't believe it if such beings existed, where did they go?" Riven asked. "Why haven't we seen one in recorded history?"
"They were there but not anymore because the rifts became unstable. The corruption spread. And the last Bridgers either died trying to fix it, or..." She paused. "Or they went home. It could be back to Earth. And perhaps the knowledge of how to control the rifts died with them."
"Until now."
"Maybe." Mira looked back at her dwelling, where Michelle slept unaware of the speculation swirling around her. "Or maybe she's just a human with extraordinary luck. We won't know until we observe her more, see how she heals, whether the immunity continues."
"And if she is a Bridger?" Riven asked. "What then?"
"Then she's the most valuable being in the whole Feral Lands and beyond," Mira said bluntly actually dreading the possibility of such power. "And the most endangered. Because if she can control rifts, every faction will want to use her. The dragon clans will want her to open portals for trade and expansion. The warlords will want her as a weapon. And those who profit from the chaos..." She trailed off. "They'll want her dead."
Riven's expression darkened. "Then we keep this between us. You, me, and Kael."
"Lord Kael doesn't even realize what he's found yet." Mira mused.
"Dragon Lord will soon. He's not stupid at all." Riven crossed his arms. "But until we're certain, we say nothing. Settlement law protects her here, but the moment word spreads that a human survived Drakemoor, every opportunist in the territory will come sniffing around."
"Agreed." Mira hesitated, then added, "There's something else. The prophecy mentions a bond."
"What kind of bond?"
"An eternal bond that was choosen by each other freely. That only through that connection can the corruption be stopped." She met Riven's eyes. "Forced bonds break under pressure. Only chosen bonds endure."
Riven was quiet for a moment. "Kael called her mate. Last night, in the forest. I could smell it on both of them—his scent is all over her, and hers is on him."
"He used the word?"
"He did. But I don't think she understood what it meant to him. She shows human. Their customs are different."
Mira nodded slowly. "Then we wait. Let them find their own path. If the bond is meant to form, it will. If not..." She shrugged. "Then he's wrong, and would have to face the corruption as we always have."
"With tooth and claw and stubborn hope," Riven finished.
"Exactly."
They stood in companionable silence for a moment, two who'd seen too much and still chose to care.
"Didn't she reminds you of someone?" Riven said suddenly.
"Who?"Mira asked curious to her Alpha's thought.
But then Riven chose not speak the name and diverge instead. "Me... years ago." His smile was faint. "An outsider who didn't understand the rules, who refused to accept that things were just 'how they were.'"
Mira laughed softly. "You were considerably more violent about it."
"True. I fought three Alphas before they accepted my claim to Silver-wood." He looked at Mira. "But the core was the same. The refusal to bow. The insistence on choosing our own paths."
"That's what gives me hope," Mira admitted. "If she is the Bridger, she won't be controlled or used. She'll choose. And maybe, she'll choose to help Feral Lands."
"Or she'll choose to go home and leave us to our fate."
"That's her right."
"Doesn't mean I have to like it."
Mira patted his arm. "Go rest, Alpha."
Riven nodded and walked away, his massive form disappearing into the settlement. Mira watched him go, then returned to her dwelling.
Inside, Michelle still slept, her breathing deep and even. The poultice was doing its work—the swelling in her knee had already begun to reduce.
Mira settled back into her rocking chair and picked up her knitting. An old habit, one she'd never quite given up. The rhythmic click of needles was soothing, a connection to a world she'd left behind decades ago. She hummed lowly as she worked. And if Michelle stirred slightly at the familiar melody, Mira pretended not to notice. She continued knitting, continued humming.