Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
“We need to give Zander a new identity,” Solei said, arms crossed, her expression all steel and strategy. “He hasn’t spent much time in town, so passing him off as a lowborn rider shouldn’t be difficult.”
Zander gave her a look that said he wasn’t thrilled, but didn’t argue.
“Won’t the castle issue a warrant for him?” I asked.
Cyran let out a low grunt, amused and tired all at once. “And admit Theron allowed him to escape?” He shook his head. “Not likely. He’ll send covert operatives instead. Ones who know his face and mannerisms. Assassins who won’t ask questions.”
I nodded, rubbing a hand over my face. “Cyran’s right. Theron will never admit either of us outsmarted him. He’s probably already told the guild I’m on assignment.”
Cyran moved behind his desk, opening a drawer with the quiet click of a hidden lock. He pulled out a slim scroll and tossed it on the table.
“Your new name is Lockem.”
I blinked, frowning. “Really? Your dog’s name?”
Cyran gave me a slow, unrepentant smile. “It’s a good name. I loved that dog. It never disobeyed any command.”
Zander made a face like he couldn’t decide whether to be amused or offended, but before he could reply, Solei was already on the move.
“Come with me,” she said, throwing her cloak over her shoulders. “You need to be relocated to a safehouse.”
“Why not stay here?” Zander asked.
Cyran’s mouth tightened. “Because Theron has visited me here before. Not often, but once is enough.”
Zander froze. His shoulders stiffened, hands curling into fists at his sides.
“He had my oldest brother killed,” he said flatly.
Cyran’s expression shifted, going still, haunted even. “He was assassinated by the Order,” he said slowly. “But Theron was not the client.”
The silence hit hard.
I didn’t breathe. Neither did Zander.
Zander’s voice, when it came, was cracked with disbelief. “Who was?”
Cyran hesitated. “No one from Warriath.”
He didn’t elaborate, and that silence was more telling than any answer could have been.
“I will tell you this,” Cyran added, quieter now. “The contract was personal.”
Zander swallowed, hard. “Personal…” His jaw clenched so tightly the muscles twitched in his cheek. “Thank you. For the information.”
Cyran stared at him for a long moment. “If you ever figure out who it was… just remember… we never had this conversation.”
Zander nodded once. “Agreed.”
Without another word, we turned and followed Solei into the darkened tunnel, leaving the scent of ink, blood, and old betrayals behind us.
Solei didn’t speak as she led us out of Cyran’s tunnels and back into the dim rear hall of the Rusty Tankard.
Her steps were quick but silent, her cloak fluttering behind her like a second shadow.
We slipped through the tavern without drawing attention, ducking out into the side alley where the sounds of midday had begun, vendors calling, and boots echoing on stone.
The streets of the lower ring bustled with life, but Solei kept to the alleys and side paths, her blade never far from her fingertips.
We passed two bakeries, a weaver’s stall, and a blacksmith whose hammer struck like a heartbeat in the distance.
Then she stopped in front of a weathered inn tucked between two leaning buildings.
The Briar Rose, with its name barely visible through the peeling paint.
I expected her to secure us a room on the upper floors, maybe something facing the alley.
But she led us down instead.
Past the barkeep’s curious glance, down the narrow stairs behind the kitchen, to the cool, stone-lined basement below. It smelled of flour and old wine, but it was dry and cooler than the streets above. She stopped beside a tall wooden shelf crammed with empty jugs and dusty crates.
“The shelf is anchored to the wall,” Zander said.
Solei nodded once, then looked at him. “Help me move it anyway.”
Zander stepped forward, and together they shifted the shelf carefully, until it creaked on its hidden hinge and swung outward, revealing a narrow wooden door behind it.
Solei opened it and stepped inside.
The hidden room beyond was small but clean. A cot lined one wall, a washbasin stood beneath a narrow shelf, and a plate of food had been placed beside a half-full jug of water. The scent of warm bread and lentils still lingered.
“This is where you’ll stay,” she said, eyes flicking between us. “I’ll return for you in the morning.”
She reached into her cloak and tossed a small satchel on the bed. “Spare clothes. A cloak. Don’t open the door unless it’s me.”
Zander crossed his arms. “How long before Theron starts looking?”
“His spies will blanket the city by dawn,” she said simply. “But we’ll leave a false trail. One that suggests you’ve already left the capital.”
I nodded, the knot in my chest tightening. “Thank you.”
Solei didn’t answer. She only stepped back through the threshold, and the door creaked shut behind her.
A moment later, we heard the soft scraping of the shelf sliding back into place, sealing us in.
And the city, with all its danger and shadows, was kept at bay.
For now.
Zander sat heavily on the narrow bed, the old frame creaking beneath his weight. He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, and for the first time in a long time… he looked exhausted. Not from battle. Not from lack of sleep.
But from hopelessness.
I sank down beside him, close enough that my knee brushed his.
“Hey,” I said gently. “Are you okay?”
For a moment, I thought he might nod, give me one of his half-smiles, and say I’m fine, like he always did.
But something cracked.
His jaw flexed, and his hands balled into fists. When he spoke, his voice was rough and raspy, like it had been scraped raw.
“When they arrested me,” he said, “Theron was waiting. I hadn’t even gotten the shackles on before he started gloating. Mocking me. He paraded the evidence like it was ironclad. Everything Inderia said, he took at face value. No questions. No hesitation.”
His breath shook, and he shoved a hand through his hair.
“God, I almost let them execute me.”
I reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder, grounding him. “Zander… it’s not like you to give up.”
He didn’t pull away from my touch, just stared down at the floor like it held the answers he couldn’t find.
“I feel…” he paused, jaw tight. “It’s weird. Being without Hein. I’ve had him in my head for almost three years. Every time I reached out, he was there. And now, it’s just... quiet.”
My heart clenched.
I hadn’t considered what Hein’s absence might do to him.
Zander had always been so strong. So centered. But that anchor with Hein had been with him from the start. And now, without it…
He was like me.
Drifting.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I never really thought about what being separated from him would feel like for you.”
Zander finally met my gaze, something wounded flashing behind his eyes. He gave a slight nod, just enough to say thank you without needing the words.
“I think this is the real reason dragons usually mate after a lifetime with a rider,” he said. “So they don’t have to choose between their own bond and ours.”
I swallowed hard.
“Maybe,” I murmured, “if we can prove we can handle it, they’ll consider taking second riders. Maybe the mating thing has made them believe it’s one or the other.”
Zander let out a tired breath.
“Maybe,” he echoed.
And for a moment, we just sat there.
Two riders.
Two broken bonds.
Trying to believe we weren’t as alone as we felt.
Zander turned his head, eyes locking with mine, the glow from the wall sconce catching in his irises and making the shadows around them deeper.
“If dragons took second riders,” he said, voice quiet but charged with the weight of the idea, “our ranks would double. Maybe more.”
I nodded slowly, the truth of it unraveling in my mind. “There are obviously more commoners with fae blood than we realized.”
“Yes,” he said. “We’ve barely scratched the surface of our potential in that area. The king paid people to apply. Encouraged it. There could be hundreds of others in the outer kingdoms—riders just waiting to be found.”
“Not to mention the ones already here,” I added, heat creeping into my words. “Commoners in Warriath who passed up a chance to join the guild. Those who were able to avoid the king’s ransom.”
“They were afraid,” Zander said, his tone heavy with understanding. “Afraid of being outed. Afraid of not being accepted. Afraid of the dragons.”
“Because they didn’t understand,” I murmured. “Hell, I didn’t understand—not until Kaelith finally spoke to me.”
His eyes softened, and he leaned back against the creaking bed frame, arms resting loosely over his knees.
“That’s the difference,” he said. “The dragons choose when to reveal themselves. Who to trust. Most never get far enough to earn that.”
I stared at the cracked stone wall, my heart pounding a little faster.
“But they could,” I said softly. “If we trained them, if we taught them… if we gave them the chance.”
Zander looked at me, something like hope stirring beneath the exhaustion in his gaze.
“Then maybe this war,” he said, “isn’t just about survival. Maybe it’s about rebuilding. Changing what the guild was always afraid to become.”
I held his gaze, the storm inside me quieting for a breath.
Maybe we really could change the world.
One dragon. One rider. One truth at a time.
“And who we can become with it.” I smiled at him. “I admit, I never expected you.”
I noticed the change in his eyes immediately. They darkened slightly before he leaned toward me.
My lips met his, and I instantly melted into him, my body moving instinctively. I straddled his lap, my legs wrapping around his waist as I pressed closer, desperate for more. A moan escaped me, swallowed by his lips. Though I knew that nobody could hear us.
Zander groaned, his grip tightening on my hips, and pushed at my clothes. Straddling him, I allowed him to help remove my clothes. He was naked and beneath me seconds later since he’d been relieved of his armor earlier.
His cock rubbed against my clit, sending my temperature soaring. My hips moved frantically as I moved over him. He groaned when I pushed the tip of his cock inside me.
I had to spread my thighs apart to take him fully into me. His hands gripped my hips so tightly I was sure there would be bruises, but I didn’t care. I needed this. I needed him. His pace quickened, and I wrapped my arms around his neck, bracing for his possession.
While he was thick, it wasn’t his girth that had me shaking.
It was how close I felt to him at that moment.
I had never experienced this before in my life.
It was frightening and invigorating at the same time.
When Remy died… or so I thought, I had sworn I would never allow myself to be that vulnerable again. But I felt helpless now.
It was difficult to focus on the physical pleasure when my mind kept screaming that we were from two worlds and we had no future. Focus on nothing except the pleasure. I felt every inch of him as he pulled out and then slammed back inside my body.
He pressed my nerve endings and brushed against my clit at the same time. I was lost in how good he felt as he stretched me to the point of pain. Yet, I couldn’t get enough. My body moved against his, and I cried out as he went into a fast, hard rhythm.
Losing myself entirely, I slammed down on his shaft, then rocked against his body.
When my back arched, my nipples brushed against his chest. That sent another round of sensation straight to my core.
With my arms around his shoulders and my legs over his, I pressed my mouth to his and kissed him.
Before I knew it was happening, the kiss became demanding and forceful.
His roaming hands seemed to map my body. He squeezed my breasts while his tongue continued to explore my mouth. Zander was a dominant lover. He never held back and pushed me to new heights. There was a primal and raw edge to him that called out to me.
He broke the kiss and moved one hand between our bodies, then strummed my clit. “I need you to come, Ashe. I am barely holding on.”
“I’m already there,” I promised him. My desire and need exploded inside me.
Sweat poured from my skin. Which added to how damn good he felt inside me.
Within seconds, my body clenched around his.
He responded by slamming deeper inside me.
The force he used made me see stars. I cried out as my climax tore through me.
He shifted his hips and hit a new spot inside me. A scream left me as another climax took me before the first one waned. His grip on my hips tightened, and he shouted my name a few seconds later as his orgasm joined mine.
I rode out the pleasure and continued rubbing against his body as another orgasm surprised me. My need spiraled higher. I would never get enough of him. Especially while he remained hard inside me.