Chapter 24
Chapter
Twenty-Four
The weight of the previous evening still clung to me like ash, thick and inescapable.
I’d fallen into bed the night before without a word, curling into the stiff cot and letting the exhaustion drown everything else.
Not just from the assassin. Or Remy’s interrogation.
Or the dragons posturing like war was already at our doorstep.
But from all of it.
When I woke, my limbs still ached, but it was dulled now—quiet and manageable.
More than that, though, no one in my squad had asked for answers.
Not Riven, who handed me my tea without comment.
Not Jax, who sat beside me on the bench and cracked a joke about Cordelle losing his quill again.
Not Ferrula, who simply nodded at me as we passed swords in the practice yard.
They knew something had happened.
And still… they waited.
That was loyalty. Not demanded—but earned.
As we made our way to our assigned spots, the wind cut through the field in steady bursts, dragging clouds across the sky like cloaks being pulled off by the sun. Kaelith was perched high above on one of the craggy spires of the cliffs. Silent, but present. Hein sat beside her, unmoving.
But what caught my eye, even before the major’s voice, were the two shadows standing on the balcony tower overlooking the grounds.
Theron. And Inderia.
Watching.
Their posture said everything. He stood tall, arms behind his back like a conquering prince surveying his pawns. Inderia at his side, draped in gold-threaded blue, her lips curled in satisfaction.
I looked up.
I saw them.
Then I turned away.
Let them watch. Let them see what it looked like when I didn’t break.
Major Ledor stood at the podium on the grounds, his boots set wide, his red-lined cloak fluttering in the morning wind. His voice carried clear and distinct when he addressed us.
“Today’s trial,” he called, “is not about strength or precision. It’s about trust.”
He let that settle, his gaze sweeping the squads.
“You’ll be blindfolded. Your dragons will guide you through a course above the clouds. No verbal commands. No magic. Only bond. You will either listen—” he glanced at me, just for a moment, “—or fall.”
A test of bond.
Of connection.
My stomach twisted, because I already knew what Kaelith hadn’t said.
She wasn’t ready.
And that meant I wasn’t either.
The call to Kaelith echoed silently through the thread between us. I barely breathed, barely moved, as I reached for her.
She answered.
With the distant beat of wings and a thunderous gust of wind, she descended from the upper cliffs like a storm breaking. Her scales shimmered in muted violet under the sun, powerful limbs flexing as she landed hard on the Ascension Grounds beside me.
Around her, the others came. Narvea’s emerald form coiling beside Ferrula, Riven swinging up onto Lola, Naia greeting Temil with a whispered touch, Cordelle already halfway onto Kass’ back with that quiet, practiced precision.
But then—
More shadows.
More wings.
I turned, stomach twisting, as the Iron Fang dragons descended one by one, sleek, vicious beasts, all teeth and polished scale, their riders in matching crimson-black uniforms.
A red Swift, a hulking black Clubtail, and worst of all—Coldrath, Perin’s dragon, gliding in like a silent threat.
Major Ledor’s voice rose, cold and clear. “Iron Fang will be your opponent today. They will attempt to hinder your progress through the trial.”
Of course they would.
I mounted Kaelith, fingers tightening on the rope, legs locking around her sides as my squad followed suit. The winds kicked up, mist rolling across the stone as the clouds thickened above.
Then we launched.
The ground vanished beneath us as we pierced the veil of clouds, weightless and rising. Inside the mist, everything turned silver and white, blinding and quiet except for the rush of air and the distant rustle of wings.
Floating lanterns drifted in staggered lines through the fog, each pulsing with soft golden light, just enough to guide us. One by one, we navigated them—twisting, banking, diving to loop around each glowing mark. The clouds gave us cover, but they also cloaked danger.
Kaelith moved like silk through a storm, each wingbeat smooth, precise. She hadn’t spoken, but I felt her pulse under me, focused.
We were almost through.
The last lantern blinked ahead.
And then—
A shadow burst from the fog.
A red Swordtail, fast, furious, talons outstretched.
Coldrath.
“Kaelith!” I gasped, and she banked hard left just as he swooped.
But it was too close.
Coldrath clipped us, his flank striking my shoulder. The world tilted. My grip slipped.
I tumbled.
The rope tore through my hands as I fell backward off Kaelith’s saddle, the clouds swallowing everything.
I was falling.
Air ripping past my ears. The sky a blur. The wind shrieked louder than I could.
And Kaelith?
Silent.
The wind tore at my face, my limbs flailing through the void as I plummeted, the clouds spinning above like distant ghosts. I didn’t know if I was over water or ground, but at this height, I doubted it mattered.
Everything blurred into weightless terror, the air a scream in my ears.
I was alone.
She didn’t come for me.
A wrenching pull yanked through my chest, forceful enough to steal the breath from my lungs. Something powerful seized me mid-fall, and I twisted instinctively, bracing for impact.
But it never came.
Instead, I was surrounded, enveloped by silver.
Sleek, gleaming scales shimmered around me as massive wings beat once, twice, holding us steady in the air. A familiar scent, cool and electric, wrapped around my senses.
Not Kaelith.
Hein.
Of course it was Hein.
The male who wanted to mate her. The one who’d stood by her side every time she refused to stand by mine.
He didn’t roar. Didn’t even look down at me as he carried me toward the Ascension Grounds.
The air grew warmer as we descended, the stone ring below coming into view, riders gathering, voices shouting.
And then—
Hein dropped me.
Not hard enough to break me, but fast enough that I hit the dirt with a loud grunt, my knees buckling as I rolled onto the ground. The pain flared brightly, but I was too stunned to cry out.
He landed behind me a moment later, shaking the ground with his bulk.
I pushed myself to my elbows, shame curling in my gut like smoke.
My dragon hadn’t come for me.
But he had.
Zander dismounted in one swift movement, his boots barely hitting the stone before he was running. His cloak snapped behind him like a second heartbeat, but all I saw was his face, tight with fear and something rawer than anger.
He dropped to his knees beside me, eyes scanning every inch of me like he wasn’t convinced I was whole.
“Are you alright?” he asked, voice low and hoarse.
I nodded.
But I wasn’t.
Not really.
I could still feel the fall in my bones, still taste the wind on my tongue. And the shame. That it hadn’t been Kaelith who caught me. That when I fell… it was Hein who answered.
Zander ran a hand through his hair and looked up toward the sky. “Hein’s going to rip Coldrath a new one,” he muttered. “They’re not supposed to collide mid-air like that. It’s reckless. Dangerous. It could’ve killed both dragons.”
“I’m sure Coldrath didn’t mean to,” I said, voice tight.
His rider, on the other hand…
I left the words unspoken.
The sound of boot steps across stone turned both our heads as a small procession descended from the tower steps. Theron strode at the front, cloak billowing, and his expression thunderous. Inderia walked just behind him, her smile smug, with her gown flowing like water meant to drown.
Zander stood as Theron approached, shoulders squaring.
“What you did was despicable,” Theron snapped, his voice echoing across the Ascension Grounds. “Allowing your dragon to interfere in a sanctioned trial? Favoring your whore over guild structure?”
Zander took a step forward, but I reached up and caught his wrist. His jaw was clenched so tight I could see the muscles twitching beneath his skin.
“I warned you,” Theron continued, ignoring me. “I warned you there would be consequences. You’ve made your preference clear.”
He turned to the gathered crowd, raising a sealed scroll as a page stepped forward.
“By decree of the crown, to protect the sanctity of the royal line and the future of the realm, Prince Zander Rayne will marry Lady Inderia of Brosha—effective at the next solstice.”
Gasps rippled through the assembled riders.
My heart dropped.
Zander’s eyes locked on Theron like he wanted to burn him down. “You can’t force this.”
“I can,” Theron said, voice like cut glass. “And I will. Choose, Zander. Her… or your duty.”
The word shattered something inside me.
Because even if he hadn’t chosen Inderia…
He hadn’t chosen me either.
Zander stepped forward, the air around him crackling, not with Dark Fire, not yet, but with the kind of fury that lived just beneath the surface of restraint.
“I refuse,” he said.
The words rang across the Ascension Grounds like a blade drawn in silence.
Theron’s eyes narrowed, nostrils flaring. “What did you say?”
Zander didn’t back down. “I won’t marry her. I refuse your decree. You may wear our father’s seal, but you don’t speak for me.”
Gasps rippled again, louder this time. Even the dragons shifted above, wings twitching as if they could feel the tension between the princes.
Inderia took a step forward, her lips still painted with that calculating smile. But her eyes, those cold, clever eyes, flicked quickly between Zander and Theron.
She adjusted her tone instantly.
“My king,” she said, her voice soft and measured, turning her full attention to Theron. “We should not act in haste.”
Theron looked at her, and the change in his expression was almost imperceptible, but I saw it.
Interest. Admiration. The hint of a smirk that hadn’t been there before.
Inderia stepped closer, her hands folded demurely in front of her silk-clad waist. “Zander has been under considerable pressure. He’s still mourning the king’s condition. He’s not thinking clearly.”
“Inderia—” Zander growled, but she held up a hand as if soothing a restless beast.
“If we force his hand,” she continued sweetly, “we risk discrediting the legitimacy of the union. Wouldn’t it be wiser… nobler… to give him time to see what’s best for the realm?”
She batted her lashes ever so slightly, and gods, it was sickening how smoothly she played him.
Theron straightened, shoulders squaring like he’d suddenly found himself the most important man in the courtyard. “You’re right,” he said, his voice touched with the edge of smugness. “Of course. You’ve always understood the subtleties of court better than most.”
Inderia inclined her head in mock modesty. “You’re too kind, Your Grace.”
Zander stood frozen, his fists clenched, his entire body vibrating with rage just barely held in check.
I watched the entire exchange in silence, the taste of iron on my tongue.
Inderia hadn’t won.
Not yet.
But she’d bought herself time.
And now she wasn’t just using the crown to get to Zander.
She was using Theron’s pride to hold him there.
Theron’s gaze drifted over Inderia, slow and deliberate.
It wasn’t affection in his eyes.
It was calculation.
He didn’t look at her like a woman, he looked at her like a prize. A fine weapon crafted for diplomacy, polished to shine in every hall she walked. His eyes followed the curve of her shoulder, the elegance of her posture, the subtle control in her every gesture.
And she let him look.
Her head dipped just enough to seem deferential, her smile soft but full of promise. She was playing him. Every breath, every flick of her lashes, every word had been carefully designed to appeal to his arrogance.
But I knew the truth.
Theron was already betrothed.
Lady Belana of Prina. Regal. Wealthy. Powerful. More crown than person.
But Theron was watching Inderia like he was already imagining replacing one pawn with another.
His voice came slow, thoughtful. “Very well.”
Zander tensed beside me.
Theron didn’t look at him. He kept his eyes on Inderia. “You have one week. Then I expect an answer. And a wedding.”
The words hung like a trapdoor.
Zander gave a stiff nod, shoulders still squared like he was holding back a blow.
Inderia dipped into a graceful curtsy, her expression calm—but I saw the flicker of triumph in her eyes.
A week.
That’s all we had.
And the game had only just begun.