Chapter 5
Chapter
Five
Iwoke with a start, the early light filtering through the narrow barracks window casting a soft glow over the stone floor. My body ached in that familiar, satisfying way—like I’d earned every sore muscle. But it wasn’t the soreness that woke me.
It was Kaelith.
Her voice roared in my mind like thunder cracking through a calm sky.
You knew, she snarled, and you didn’t tell me. The wards are failing, Ashlyn.
I sat up fast, heart racing, the blanket tangled around my legs. I only just found out. I—
Do not lie to me. Her fury lashed like a whip, every word edged with fire and betrayal.
You found out last night. Hein’s rider just informed him of your excursion into the tunnels beneath the tower.
Those protections were the basis of the treaty.
They were the promise that our hatchlings would never again be hunted. That they would never be enslaved.
I pushed out of bed, dressing quickly as I tried to soothe the fire clawing inside my skull. I didn’t hide it from you, Kaelith. We only confirmed it last night. I—I didn’t want to wake you until I had more.
Kaelith didn’t answer right away, but I could feel her anger simmering just beneath the silence.
I’ll fix it, I promised. I’ll find a way to protect the dragons. To protect you.
Her voice returned, low and cold. Yes. You will.
I froze. What do you mean?
You will prove your loyalty, she said, each word deliberate. To me. To the dragons. To the legacy we are bound to uphold.
How? I asked, already knowing the answer wouldn’t be simple.
You will stand in the place where dragons were last betrayed, Kaelith said, her voice suddenly ancient, almost reverent. And you will face what they faced.
And if I fail? I asked, my throat dry.
Then I chose wrong. Her voice faded like smoke. And this realm will burn with the ashes of our bond.
I stood in the quiet barracks, her words echoing in my bones.
Prove my loyalty.
Stand where the dragons fell.
And suddenly, sleep was the last thing on my mind.
I dressed in silence, careful not to wake the others. The steady breathing of my squadmates filled the barracks, a rare kind of peace, one I didn’t have the luxury of indulging in. I tightened the last buckle of my leathers, slid my boots on, and eased the door open without a sound.
The morning air hit me like a whisper, cool and sharp, the scent of sea spray carried on the wind.
Kaelith was waiting in the clearing beyond the training grounds, her wings half-furled, her long tail coiled like a serpent. She didn’t so much as blink when I stepped into view.
Instead, she snorted.
The sound was pure disdain, smoke curling from her nostrils as her golden eyes narrowed at me.
Still mad, then.
I didn’t try to explain. I didn’t grovel.
Instead, I stepped up to her massive form, reaching for the familiar curve of her neck. My fingers brushed the warm scales, and I looped the rope I always carried around her.
I climbed up and settled between her shoulders; the tension thrumming beneath her hide like a living storm.
She launched without warning, wings slicing through the sky with a thunderous crack. The wind tore past me, and for a moment, I let the silence of flight settle my nerves. Kaelith didn’t speak. She didn’t need to.
We were going to the Dragon Isle.
But not just anywhere.
We passed the western cliffs where the newest clutches were nestled in protected hollows, their small bodies glowing with the colors of their lineage. I saw two adults, likely their assigned guards, glance up as we flew overhead, Kaelith’s wings casting shadows over the nesting grounds.
But she didn’t descend.
She passed them, ignoring the soft trills of the hatchlings.
Instead, she flew to the tip of the island where the rock was burned black from old fire, the earth cracked and scorched in jagged patterns. There were no nests here. No signs of life.
Just silence and soot and stone.
Kaelith landed hard, her claws scraping the basalt as she folded her wings slowly.
I slid down her side and landed on the uneven rock, my boots crunching against ash and old bone fragments—long dead, bleached white by time.
Kaelith stepped forward and nudged the edge of the scorched ridge with her snout, her voice finally entering my mind.
This is where they died, she said. Where the betrayal began.
And I knew.
This was the trial.
This was the place where I would prove whether I was worthy of her trust.
I glanced around the scorched clearing, heart thudding as the wind howled through the jagged stone as if it carried the whispers of the dead.
Bones littered the ground—scattered fragments of dragons and something else. Older. Finer. The bones of a human or fae.
“What do I do?” I asked, my voice rough against the quiet.
Kaelith’s golden gaze found mine, unreadable. You touch the stone. And they will come.
I stared at the blackened ridge, its surface pulsing faintly with residual heat. Veined with silver and obsidian, the rock appeared as if ancient fire had melted and reshaped it. My fingers trembled as I stepped forward.
Be warned, Kaelith said, her voice low and distant, as if it came from some far-off age. The last fae to take this test died. Screaming.
My breath caught.
But I knelt anyway.
I needed this. Not just for her. For all of them.
I pressed my palm to the darkened stone.
And the world broke.
Magic exploded beneath my skin—jagged, primal, wrong. It surged through my veins like wildfire and lightning, crashing into my soul, digging into my memories.
Suddenly I was standing in my father’s office, watching him sell me to the crown with a bag of coin and a nod. Then the scene shifted, and I was in the training ring, failing, again and again, as dragons turned their backs on me.
The pain twisted—emotional, mental, relentless.
A voice slithered into my thoughts, You are not worthy. Not of her. Not of this.
I gritted my teeth. “That’s a lie—”
The stone flared, and my magic was torn from me, pulled like thread from a spool. I screamed as it unraveled, as if something ancient was shredding my very core.
What are you without power? the voice taunted. A girl. A commoner. Replaceable.
My knees hit the stone. Blood spilled from my nose, my ears.
“No,” I gasped. “I’m more than that—I chose this. I chose her.”
The spirit pressed harder.
My vision darkened. I felt the last edge of myself splintering.
And then I screamed—raw and ragged, as if the magic that made me was being ripped from bone and soul.
Kaelith’s roar echoed behind me, distant and furious—but she didn’t intervene.
This trial was mine to survive.
Or not.
The world twisted again.
The pain ebbed for a heartbeat, just long enough for me to suck in a ragged breath, and then the next wave hit.
Not fire. Not cold. Something deeper. Loneliness.
Despair so crushing it cleaved through bone.
My knees were already bloodied from the stone, and my magic flickered low in my chest like a dying candle.
The spirits weren’t done.
The voice came again, this time not cruel, but calm. Final.
One must fall. You… or your dragon.
Everything around me froze. The air went still. Even the wind stopped howling through the cliffs. My heartbeat thundered like war drums in my ears.
“No,” I whispered, voice shaking. “Don’t make me choose.”
But the stone beneath my palms pulsed, and a vision unfurled before me—Kaelith, falling from the sky. Her wings torn. Her body shattered on the cliffs of Warriath.
You are her weakness, the voice whispered. You bind her. We must sever your bond.
“No—” I tried to stand, but my legs gave out beneath me.
The magic pressed in again, tighter now, coiled like a vice around my throat.
Choose. Her life. Or yours.
Tears blurred my vision. My chest felt carved open. But the answer came without hesitation.
“Then take me,” I gasped, slamming my palm into the stone again, my voice ragged with finality. “Take me. Let her live.”
The magic flared violently, like fire being stoked by rushing wind, and then… it vanished.
I collapsed, my body limp, the strength ripped from every limb. My cheek hit the stone, warm with blood and ash. I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. The world pulsed and dimmed around the edges, and I felt myself slipping.
Then—
Thud.
Kaelith’s talons struck the ground beside me. The earth trembled beneath her weight.
She loomed over me, her breath fanning my face, hot and alive. Her scales rippled, shimmered—violet and gold flashing like firelight off water, as if something beneath her skin wanted to break free.
She lowered her head, her golden eyes glowing like molten metal.
You passed, she said softly, her voice curling through my mind like smoke and thunder.
And then—
Darkness.
My eyes fluttered open, lashes heavy with grit and dried sweat. The sun was higher now, pouring golden light across the scorched stone. Heat pressed against my skin, and my body ached as if I’d been flung through time itself.
I shifted, groaning, my muscles protesting every breath. Everything hurt.
“How long was I out?” I rasped.
Kaelith’s voice flowed into my mind, velvet over embers. Just over an hour. But Hein’s rider is most displeased. He’s been circling like a storm that won’t break.
I tried to sit up, and Kaelith extended her wing, shielding me from the sun as I dragged myself into a seated position.
She continued, her tone wry. Katama’s rider is also irritated, though I care little for his moods.
I was not surprised she didn’t favor Remy. But I felt a change in our bond.
As I looked at her something shifted in my chest. In the space where her magic had always pressed against mine, there was now… more. Like the bond had deepened, rooted itself further. No longer just connection, but completion.
“Something’s changed,” I whispered.
It has, she said, eyes glowing softly.
I reached out, pressing my palm to her warm scales. And this time, her magic didn’t just stir in response—it rose to meet me.
We were no longer just bonded.
We were chosen.
Not by the crown.
Not through the trials.
By each other.
Kaelith’s head snapped toward the distant silhouette of Warriath, her nostrils flaring as she inhaled deeply, wings twitching in agitation.
Something was wrong.
Her voice cut through my mind. We must return. There has been an incident.
My heart clenched. “What kind of incident?” I asked, pushing myself to my feet, muscles still trembling from the trial.
She didn’t answer.
Instead, she crouched low, wing unfurling in a sweeping arc as if to shield me from the question I’d asked.
I didn’t push. I knew that silence.
I grabbed the rope still tied around her neck, hoisting myself onto her back with practiced ease, settling into the familiar cradle between her shoulders.
The moment I was secure, her wings beat once—twice—before we surged into the sky like a bolt loosed from a storm.
Wind tore at my clothes, my hair, but I didn’t care.
We were already climbing fast, the Dragon Isle shrinking beneath us, Warriath rising on the horizon like a storm-scarred crown.
I leaned forward into Kaelith’s neck. “If the majors are going to make me scrub the floors for disappearing, you can just drop me in the ocean now.”
Her only answer was a low, rumbling growl that shook through my bones.