Knowing was what Isopia did. It was who she was. And so, as Volterra interpreted what she said in a way that she didn't immediately understand (for the truth of her words was still buried far deep in the reddish-black waters of her subconscious), Isopia froze. Unwilling to admit that there was something that he believed she knew - something that she clearly ought to have known - but didn't, Isopia nodded. Into her eyes she forced a look of disappointed understanding, a pretense of Yes. I know.

Though perhaps it was better that they were both dancing around the subject: Isopia unwilling to let herself believe it, and Volterra unwilling to have himself say it. Because if they ever did admit that it was love that still tethered them together and not fate, then perhaps things would change. Perhaps Isopia would find it a great deal easier to forgive him for his transgressions, and for his part, perhaps Volterra wouldn't continue to commit them. 

Raising her still-clotting head upwards slightly, Isopia motioned over her shoulder. She meant to look cold, and strong, and though physical vanity had never been a vice of hers, in that moment, she hoped that the wounds on her face made her look ... how would Ros put it? Bad ass.

"She's a demigoddess too." Isopia spat flatly, circling back to the she was my cousin! comment that he had conveniently neglected to respond to. "Maybe you'd like to -" She wanted to say fuck her as well, but the vulgarity of it felt so wrong,\ that she stopped mid sentence. Why wasn't she better at this? For the first time in her life, she wished she could borrow Ros's vocabulary and crass phrasing. In her mind, she thought if she could do that, she could properly say what it was she was thinking. But as it was, she just didn't have the toolbox to fit the words together in a way that was poignant, but also sarcastic and biting. "-complete the set. Collect all three." She finished. It didn't have the ring to it that she wanted, but it was out now. Her golden gaze fixed on him, that familiar concoction of betrayal, regret, and love stirring in her veins, wanting him to feel the sting of this moment as clearly as she did, but knowing that he never would. He hadn't understood that day she had tried to wound him with her words on this mountain top, and though her magic had the power to cause him pain, it seemed her words never would. 

Hubris meanwhile, was well versed in dealing with the ebb and flow of Isopia's mind and so was able to rise above the frenetic waves of her thoughts and emotions, and focus on Vadir. The golden queen hadn't listened to his advice, and now lay nearly unconscious on the ground because of it. He thought that as her head rose, that she might have a word of remorse for him, or at least a look of you were right. But rather than seeing his logic and accepting his assistance, he watched as if in slow motion, as her jaws began to open. The bronze could see the valves of fire working on the back of her throat , and despite his weariness, he forced himself to move. Leaping forwards, Hubris dove in front of Isopia's scalded and burned legs, taking the brunt of Vadir's fire onto himself. Pain radiated outwards, and unlike his bonded, the dragon opened his jaws emitting an anguishing scream of pain. He did not have the same emotionless code that Isopia did, and so let the agony that surged over his body echo from his opened jaws. 

He landed at Isopia's hooves with a dull thud, desperately clinging to consciousness. His bright blue stare rose to try and find Isopia's, a last pleading trill and mental pulse of stop this was all he could manage before those eyes darkened and he slipped into the black just as the other two dragons had.

Wide-eyed, Iso could feel the chilling nothingness permeate her mind where Hubris' consciousness had just been. Without regard for her own injuries, she scooped up the bronzey body with her wings, cradling him to her chest. Her watery magic poured over his small body and through her feathers, as she held both him and her breath. 

I hate you, she wanted to scream as her eyes, shiny with tears, rose to find Volterra's ruby stare. But those words weren't good enough, and she knew if she released the breath she was holding, she wouldn't be able to hold back the flood of screams that were brewing in the back of her throat. A flood of screams, in which I love you, would surely have been the loudest.