She cupped his face in between her hands. “Oh Drake, do you not see? You will always have a little of the dragon in you, and you should. It will aid you in your mission to change some of the atrocities of our world. And what lies between you and me . . . it no longer matters. For you see, dragon or no, I have become a knight.” She smiled through her tears. “Your
petit chevalier,
in truth. I first protected the dragon, but God has tamed him. And I have always loved him. So breathe on, and make your fire. For I am not afraid.”
They cried together then, staring into each other’s eyes. It was the end of one thing and the beginning of another. And Drake had no doubt. The love between them had been tested, purified by God’s fire, even as the smith refines his silver. And now . . . it was ready to be poured forth, molded into their story.
Drake leaned toward her lips, brushing them with his. He might not know exactly what life held for them, but he knew one truth without a shadow of doubt.
Together, they could be anything.