Page 190 of Ashborne Phoenix

Grace’s face grew thoughtful. “I’m not sure I understand the picture Koa shows me,” she said. “But there’s fire.”

I squeezed her hand. “Kham showed me. It’s a phoenix, rising from the ashes. Victory over death.”

I’d answered for all of them, but she stared at me and there was a jolt in the bond. A shadow of grief that rebounded between us—but equal parts joy.

We were still grieving. But we were also celebrating. It was a strange time.

“You sure?” Gil asked abruptly. “Maybe it just means she’s hot?”

I shot him a look.

Bren slapped his arm. “Better than the dragons naming her after a flying rodent, mister bat.”

But Gil only looked smug. “I’m not a rodent… I’m an exterminator.” He waggled his eyebrows at Bren and I rolled my eyes.

Grace piped up. “What’s your dragon name, Bren?”

Bren ignored Gil’s elbow digging into her side and turned her attention back to Grace. “Little Flame,” she said.

Grace frowned. “Why little?”

“Because God knew it would only take a tiny flame for Gil to light a fart—he’s our backup if the dragons lose their flames and we need to burn down an enemy,” I said casually.

Laughter rose in clouds as I took a bit of meat and grinned at Gil, who scowled.

“It’s been years, Vos.”

Bren spluttered, almost choking on her food. “Wait, what? I haven’t heard that story. What happened?”

I cackled as the brothers launched into Gil’s escapades on boring nights in the barracks before he was a lieutenant. I grinned whenever he glared at me for bringing it up. But of course, he deflected attention to the others.

Oros was named the Rock, which Gil turned into a shot about being hardheaded and stupid.

That got them all started on the inevitable jokes about the dragons comparing Jhoare to a horse. Grace perked up—I knew she still loved horses, but it made me prickle. The brothers weren’t jabbing Jhoare about being noble and strong.

Ronen’s name, Dragon’s Crest, invited a wave of jokes about rising to the occasion.

They were all jokes we’d made before. Punches that had been landed too many times to count. And yet, as I enjoyed Grace’s fascination—and the way her cheeks pinked when the guys grew suggestive—my heart was easy.

I’d always enjoyed nights with my brothers, but was usually the first to leave when we gathered in the tavern to celebrate, or took a meal together. Not because I didn’t like them, but because inevitably, I grew tense. The skin between my shoulder blades would start to itch. I needed to be alone.

But that had been happening less and less since I’d brought Grace back.

Something had shifted. I’d always been protective of my brothers, eager to keep hold of our unity and make us an effective unit. But now… there was more.

After thinking I’d lost them, and facing the world without them, I was more… grateful. Not afraid.

I still preferred to be alone with Grace, rather than constantly surrounded by our squad mates. But being in their company for extended periods no longer felt like a burden to be borne. And these moments, when we were together and relaxed, warmed me, instead of pushing me to solitude.

I sat back against the tree, Grace between my knees and resting on my chest, and I was content.

No… it was more than that.

While they still teased and explained to the girls, I looked around the circle, and realized what I felt was… happy.

I slipped my hand to Grace’s stomach and pulled her tighter back against me.

She looked over her shoulder at me, checking in. ‘Are you well?’