Jake hadn’t meant to challenge a legend.

Toruk Makto wasn’t a plan—it was desperation sharpened into resolve. He’d lost her trust piece by piece, choices piling up until distance sat between them heavier than any mountain. She hadn’t yelled. That hurt worse. She’d just left, carrying her pain with the kind of quiet that meant it was real.

Jake stood at the cliff’s edge, wind tearing at him, the shadow of the great Leonopteryx circling above like a judgment. The clan thought he was trying to prove something. Power. Authority. Destiny.

They were wrong.

This wasn’t about uniting the people or rewriting history.

This was about her.

About showing her that he was willing to face terror itself, to risk being torn apart by teeth and sky and legend, just to say I hear you now. Just to prove that when it came down to it, he would choose her over pride, fear, and the comfort of being forgiven without earning it.

When Toruk finally screamed and dove, Jake didn’t flinch.

He thought of her eyes when she was angry. When she was hurt. When she still loved him but didn’t know if that was enough anymore.

If the sky demanded a price for second chances, he would pay it gladly.

Because if becoming Toruk Makto was what it took to win her back—

Then legend would just have to make room for love.