I almost wish we could stay here forever.

The next few days passed quietly. Too quietly.

Saphira's realm was peaceful, filled with warm winds and gardens that bloomed under soft glowing lights. Little spirits danced through the trees, singing gentle songs. At first, it felt like a gift. Ren and Lyra took long walks, shared lazy afternoons tangled in soft blankets, and tried to forget all the courts waiting to test them again.

But calm never lasted long around them. They were both too sharp for that.

One evening, they sat on a wide balcony, eating sweet slices of fruit. Lyra lay stretched across Ren's lap, her eyes half-closed as he fed her bites. The sky was painted deep gold and purple, with tiny lanterns floating up from the lower gardens.

"You know," Lyra said, licking juice from her lips, "I almost wish we could stay here forever. Just you and me. No thrones, no whispers."

Ren smiled. "Almost?"

She snorted. "Almost. I'd get bored. Besides, I like how they all look at you. Afraid. Tempted. It means they know who you belong to."

Ren leaned down, kissing her. "You're terrible."

"And you love it," she whispered against his mouth.

A soft knock at the balcony's edge made them pull apart. A spirit stood there, eyes lowered, holding a small sealed note. Ren took it, breaking the wax.

"It's from Saphira," he said, reading quickly. "She wants to see us at once. Says there's news we need to hear."

Lyra sat up, power already curling faintly along her arms. "More trouble?"

"Probably. Come on. Let's hear what game she's found this time."

They found Saphira waiting in one of her smaller halls, lounging on a low couch. Soft vines crept over the walls here, studded with tiny purple flowers that seemed to glow in the dim light.

Saphira didn't smile as they entered. Her eyes were serious, and that alone put Lyra on edge.

"You called us," Lyra said. "What's wrong?"

Saphira waved them closer. "Sit. This isn't court business — not exactly. It's more like a warning."

Ren exchanged a look with Lyra, then sat. Lyra perched on the arm of his chair, her hand slipping onto his shoulder like a silent claim.

Saphira leaned forward. "There are rumors spreading beyond my borders. Faster than even I expected. Tales of a mortal who defied Miraye's halls and left Queen Erithia shaken. Of a goddess so possessive she'd fight any throne for him."

"And?" Lyra said, eyes narrowing. "Let them whisper. It only means they fear us."

Saphira sighed. "It's not fear that worries me. It's interest. You've drawn the eyes of realms that don't often meddle with each other. I've heard talk of the Stormhold — where skies never clear and power runs wild. Even the old dragon courts might send an envoy."

Ren raised his eyebrows. "Dragons?"

"They're not like your usual courts," Saphira said. "They don't care for polite alliances. They hoard treasures — sometimes people — just to keep them from others."

Lyra's power flared so sharply tiny lights overhead shook. "If they think they'll hoard him, they're welcome to try."

Saphira studied them for a long moment. Then, softly, she said, "Just be careful. Not all who come to test you will play by the gentle rules of queens like Erithia. Some might simply take what they want and burn what's left."

Lyra stood, pulling Ren with her. "Then let them try. We've survived worse."

They left Saphira's hall hand in hand. Ren could feel Lyra's power still buzzing under her skin, like a storm waiting to be let loose.

"You're worried," he said once they were alone.

She didn't deny it. "I hate that these new courts see you like some shiny jewel they can just steal. Like you're a prize to hang on their wall."

He stopped walking, turning to face her. "Hey. Look at me."

She did. Her eyes were hard, but under it he saw the small crack — the worry that never quite left.

"You know they can't take me, right? No throne. No dragon. Nothing."

Lyra let out a breath. "I know. But it doesn't stop me from wanting to tear their worlds apart before they even try."

Ren smiled, pulling her close. "Then we'll tear them apart together. Or scare them off so badly they won't dare look twice."

Her laugh was low and a little shaky. "Promise?"

"Promise."

That night, they didn't go back to the big bed. Instead, they stayed out on the balcony, curling up on a pile of soft cushions. Ren lay back with Lyra draped half on top of him, her head tucked under his chin.

"I don't care how many courts come for us," he said quietly. "I'm not some prize. I'm yours. Always."

She pressed a kiss to his throat. "Good. Because I'd destroy them all before I let them touch even a piece of you."

For a while, they just watched the sky. Tiny spirits floated by, carrying small glowing lanterns. Somewhere below, someone played a soft tune on a stringed instrument.

It was almost peaceful. But Ren knew it wouldn't last. The world was too full of greedy hands and hungry eyes. The kind that couldn't stand to see something beautiful without trying to claim it.

Just before they drifted off to sleep, Lyra murmured, "Do you think they're already planning it? The dragons. The storm queens. All of them."

"Probably," Ren said. "But let them. We'll be ready."

She smiled against his skin. "Then I hope they come soon. I want to show them how strong we are."

He pulled her even closer. "And I want them to see it too. I want them to understand they can never break what we've built."

Far off in the night, thunder rolled — soft but deep, like some giant beast turning in its sleep. Maybe it was just a storm. Or maybe it was the first sign that the Stormhold Saphira spoke of was already watching.

Ren didn't care. With Lyra wrapped around him, her breath warm against his chest, he felt ready for anything.

Let them come.

Let them all come.

Because every court that tried would only prove the same truth over and over again:

That he was hers.

And she was his.

And together, they were stronger than any crown or throne.