She nodded, falling silent. And for a few heartbeats, we sat quietly against each other, lost in our own dark thoughts, yet unwilling to move. Realizing this could be the last time we saw each other. Again. As Ember had said, it seemed that we were forever being forced apart, by the war, by our enemies, even by each other. Reluctance battled a weary sense of resignation. It would always be like this, I realized. Fearing for each other’s lives, knowing that each moment together could be our final one.

“You have to go, don’t you?” Ember murmured at last. I nodded.

“Yeah,” I husked out, reluctant to pull away, knowing I had to. “Martin is waiting for me. He’ll be impatient to get back.” Back to St. George. Back to the Order and the brothers I had betrayed. If I didn’t know Martin so well, I might think he was setting me up, attempting to trap me behind enemy lines. But Gabriel Martin, in all the time I had known him, had always been a man of his word, even when it came to his enemies. I wondered what the other soldiers would say, how they would react, when I came through those gates. Not as a prisoner or a hostage, but as a soldier once more. One who was loyal to dragons.

I guessed I would find out soon enough.

“If Riley doesn’t come,” I told Ember, “if he decides not to risk his underground, tell him I understand. And...tell him thank you. He’ll know what for.”

“I will.” Ember drew back, blinking rapidly. “And we’ll see each other again,” she said, her eyes shadowed but determined. “I’ll be there soon, with or without a rogue army.” She pressed a hand to my cheek, her gaze fierce, as if she was memorizing my face. “Just promise me you’ll stay alive until I can get there, soldier boy. If I’m going to die fighting Talon, I’m going to do it beside you.”

I gave a half smile. “That sounds tragically noble,” I joked, trying to ease some of the shadows in her eyes. To fool myself into thinking this wasn’t quite as serious as I knew it was. That it wouldn’t end as I suspected. “The soldier of St. George and the dragon, killed together on the field of battle.”

“Fighting on the other side of the war,” Ember added. “Even though they’re supposed to be mortal enemies who hate each other. Like the Montagues and Capulets.”

“If Romeo didn’t die from poison,” I finished. “And Juliet was a fire-breathing dragon.”

She chuckled, tilting her head. “That’s an interesting thought,” she mused. “If she was, do you think the story would’ve ended like it did?”