Chapter 37
Chapter
Thirty-Seven
Iwoke with a jolt, heart pounding, skin damp with sweat.
The images still clung to the edges of my mind, blood, everywhere, running in rivers between the stones of the Ascension Grounds. My friends, my squad, lifeless at my feet. Kaelith’s roar echoing through a sky that rained fire. My hands… soaked in red.
His face had hovered above it all, Veralin, my grandfather, smiling like it was all unfolding according to plan.
I sat up slowly, breath catching in my throat.
The others were still asleep, curled into blankets and quiet dreams. I didn’t share my unrest. I couldn’t. Not when they finally looked peaceful.
Instead, I swung my legs over the side of the bunk and sat in the quiet, rubbing my temples, trying to calm the chaos still storming in my chest.
I was still awake when the knock came at the barracks door.
A castle courier stood outside, his posture straight and eyes careful.
“Prince Rayne has requested your presence,” he said simply.
Relief broke through the weight on my chest like sunlight through clouded glass.
Finally.
I followed the courier without question, boots crunching on the gravel paths as we made our way toward the eastern wing of the castle. But even as the ache in my chest eased, questions brewed.
Why had Zander been absent yesterday?
When the kingdom was choosing sides, when banners were raised, when the court teetered on the edge of open division.
Where had he been?
The courier led me through the eastern wing of the castle, nodding once before stopping at a thick mahogany door carved with royal sigils. He didn’t knock. Just stepped back and gestured.
“He’s inside.”
I nodded, heart still unsteady from the night’s dreams, but steadier now that I was about to face Zander again. Maybe I’d finally get answers.
I opened the door.
The moment it cracked wide, a blur of black slammed into me, fast and silent.
My back hit the stone wall with a thud, the air punched from my lungs as a gloved hand went for my throat, another reaching for the dagger at my belt.
Reflex took over.
I jammed my elbow into his ribs and kicked off the wall, forcing us both backward into the room.
We crashed onto the floor, rolling. He was lean but trained, his black leather armor sewn with silence in mind—an assassin’s make.
His blade slashed for my side, grazing cloth and nicking skin, but I twisted, pain fueling my fury.
A spark surged through my fingertips.
I threw my hand against his chest and let the storm speak.
Lightning exploded from my palm—blue-white and seething. The assassin convulsed with a strangled cry, smoke curling from his mouth as the current rattled through him.
He crumpled to the floor, twitching once before going still.
And then I heard her.
A quiet inhale from the corner of the room.
I turned, chest heaving, and locked eyes with Inderia.
She stood in the shadows, perfectly calm, her arms crossed, lips just barely curved.
“You set me up,” I hissed, the magic still crackling at my fingertips.
She backed up, slowly, one hand pressing against the wall as I advanced on her.
“I didn’t know he would attack you,” she said smoothly. “Not so soon.”
Liar.
I raised my hand, magic coiling again, ready to let it loose, when the door creaked open behind me.
“Enough.”
Theron.
He stepped inside, his expression unreadable, but the satisfaction didn’t hide in his eyes.
And in that moment, I knew this wasn’t a simple assassination attempt.
Inderia straightened the moment Theron stepped fully into the room, and closed the door, her voice as smooth as silk laced with poison.
“She attacked me,” she said, brushing ash from her gown like it offended her more than the corpse on the floor.
“I asked her here to speak with Zander. I thought it might ease the tension between us. But he—” she gestured toward the smoking body of the assassin, “—tried to kill me. Ashe must have brought him.”
“You liar!” I snapped, stepping forward. “You set me up, Inderia. You watched him try to kill me!”
Theron turned to me slowly, face as composed as marble, but his eyes burned with cold calculation.
“Treason,” he said, each syllable landing like a death sentence. “Attacking a royal, bringing an assassin into the castle, lying to cover your tracks. You’ve finally shown your true colors.”
My magic surged in my blood, ready to burn through the room, but—
The door burst open with a crash of boots.
Zander strode in, his cloak trailing ash and his eyes blazing with fury.
“You better not accept this foolishness,” he snapped at Theron, coming to stand beside me. “Because if you do, Inderia’s family will pay for this travesty.”
Inderia’s eyes widened slightly, just for a heartbeat. Then—
A scream pierced the castle air from outside. Distant. Shrill. Frantic.
“What is it?” Theron barked, turning toward the open doorway.
Zander didn’t look away from him as he spoke.
“Kaelith,” he said. “She burned Inderia’s family’s ship. In the port.”
Gasps echoed down the corridor.
I turned, and in the corner, through a window, smoke twisted into the sky over the harbor, a pillar of fire casting its glow into the early dawn.
Zander’s voice dropped lower, deadly.
“This is just a warning.”
Zander stepped closer to Inderia, his voice dropping into something low and piercing, honed with royal authority and dragon fire.
“You will leave Warriath,” he said, “and you will never return. If you do, both Hein and Kaelith will rain fire on your kingdom until not a stone remains.”
Inderia’s face paled, but her chin lifted defiantly, lips curling. “You have no proof. Just the word of your little commoner.”
Zander didn’t flinch.
“You should’ve studied dragons, Inderia,” he said, his voice cold steel, “instead of china patterns. Maybe then you’d know they don’t need proof. They only need permission.”
She stepped back as the windows behind us rattled from a roar in the distance, Kaelith’s fury still echoing across the harbor, a sound that promised more if provoked.
But before Zander could take another step, Theron moved between them, eyes flashing.
“That’s enough,” he barked. “Back down, Zander.”
Zander’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t move.
He just looked at his brother with a storm in his eyes and fire licking at the edges of his restraint.
And for the first time, Theron didn’t look certain.
Not of anything.
Zander didn’t blink. Didn’t move. Just stared at Theron like he was tired of dancing around the inevitable.
“I will not back down.”
His words struck like a hammer. He turned slightly, just enough to glance back at Inderia, who stood rigid near the window, the flickering orange glow of her family’s burning ship casting long shadows across her face.
“Kaelith is bonded to Ashlyn,” Zander said evenly. “She sees and hears everything her rider does. Hein speaks with Kaelith. And he intends to mate her.”
The color drained from Inderia’s face.
Whatever icy control she held onto cracked like glass beneath his words.
“I want nothing to do with you,” she spat, her voice trembling. “I want no part of this barbaric madness.”
Theron stepped between them like a final line of defense, his voice icy. “That’s enough. Inderia is well-respected. Her family is noble. She will not be forced to marry my lowborn brother—”
Zander laughed once, cold, humorless. “You think I ever wanted to marry her?”
Theron’s nostrils flared, his mask of composure slipping just enough to reveal the truth—
He was losing control.
Theron stepped closer, his expression a polished mask of calm, but the threat simmered just beneath.
He wrapped a possessive arm around Inderia’s waist, drawing her against him with the ease of practiced power.
“Careful what you say, brother,” he said quietly, holding Inderia almost tenderly. “You have far more to lose than she does.”
Inderia didn’t look back. But her silence was telling.
Theron turned with her under his arm, escorting her out like she was something precious, not the venom-laced snake she was. The door shut behind them with a soft click that echoed louder than any slam.
The silence that followed was tight and suffocating.
Zander’s gaze slid to mine across the ruined room, his shoulders taut, eyes still crackling with the weight of all he couldn’t say aloud.
I stepped forward.
“Does he know?” I asked, my voice low. “About your parentage?”
His jaw flexed. A storm passed through his eyes.
“I’m not sure, his lowborn comment could be because I’m fourth born,” he said finally.
But we both knew if Theron didn’t know already—
That secret wouldn’t stay buried much longer.