I exhaled slowly, the pieces falling together in my mind, like a puzzle made from shards of truth and broken whispers.
"What if…" I hesitated, the words on my tongue like a storm ready to break. "What if it has something to do with Djinn?"
Fafnir turned his head sharply, his eyes narrowing. "What are you saying?"
I met his gaze, my voice steady, but low. "It's just a theory. But think about it—Djinn, your mother… she's one of the few beings who truly understands the ember. What if… what if she's not allowing true dragons to be born and grow to maturity?"
Fafnir's jaw tensed, but he said nothing, listening.
"She knows what mature dragons connected to the ember can become. What kind of power they hold. If more of you are born and rise, she might lose her grip. Her plans—whatever they are—could be threatened."
Fafnir's expression darkened, a flicker of something dangerous behind his eyes.
