Chapter 11
Chapter
Eleven
Theron’s voice rolled on, as smooth as oil over a dagger’s edge, the words soaked in confidence and poison.
“When I am officially crowned,” he said, resting his palms against the edge of the council table, “my first decree will be to reward loyalty. Those who have stood beside me in these uncertain times will receive full authority over their territories—without interference from guild oversight.”
Several nobles straightened in their chairs. A few exchanged eager glances. Others were more cautious, hiding their reactions behind jeweled goblets and practiced stillness.
But Theron wasn’t done.
“I will restructure the chain of command in the guilds,” he went on, eyes sweeping the room. “We’ve relied too heavily on outdated systems. The throne will no longer be second to dragonkind. The riders will answer to the crown, and the crown alone.”
Beside me, I felt Zander’s fury begin to boil. His shoulders stiffened, his fingers curling into fists so tight the knuckles went white. He didn’t speak, but I felt the rage rolling off him like a thunderstorm.
Before he could explode, I cleared my throat—just a sharp sound, cutting through the room like a thread snapping.
Theron paused.
His eyes slid toward me, and for a moment I saw behind the mask—hatred. A cold, venomous disdain that curled his lip just enough before he swallowed it behind a sneer.
But he didn’t call me out. He just straightened, smoothing the creases in his high-collared coat as if the moment hadn’t happened at all.
“Council is adjourned,” he said. “You are dismissed.”
Chairs scraped. Silk rustled. Nobles filed out in clusters of perfume and whispered schemes.
And then—
The tingling began.
Like a thousand tiny sparks brushing beneath my skin, the edge of the glamour starting to fray. I caught Zander’s eye, and he nodded once.
We turned, walking quickly but controlled, toward the doors.
We’d nearly made it to the threshold when Theron’s voice rang out behind us.
“Get me Zander and the Rebec girl.”
We froze.
Slowly, we turned.
My heart thundered as we stepped out of the council chamber, each beat louder than the last. Did he see us? Did he know?
Theron’s voice had cut through the air, sharp and certain.
But then—he turned away.
Back to Inderia, his hand lifting to touch her cheek in a gesture that was disturbingly intimate, fingers grazing her skin with a tenderness that didn’t match the cruelty of his words moments before.
I swallowed hard, forcing myself not to look back.
Zander and I slipped into the nearest empty corridor the moment the heavy doors closed behind us.
The glamour peeled away with a quiet hum, the magic unraveling from our skin like threads of silk dissolving in fire. I felt the tingle fade, the weight of another face lifting.
“That was close,” I breathed, pressing my back to the cool wall.
Zander nodded, running a hand through his now-black hair. “I thought he had seen me.”
“Me too.” I looked down the corridor, then back at him. “Do you think… there’s something going on between him and Inderia?”
Zander arched a brow. “Romantically?”
I nodded. “I know he’s using her for her contacts, but…”
“I wouldn’t be surprised,” he said, voice low. “He’s lost his bride. Inderia has clearly proven herself… useful. And she would do anything to be queen.”
“No kidding,” I muttered. “But would she kill for it? We assumed Lady Belana was murdered to hurt Theron or stir political chaos, but what if it was more than that?”
Zander exhaled slowly. “Inderia is cunning. And she certainly had access. But if she hired an assassin, that assassin could blackmail her forever.”
“Yeah,” I said, staring down at my hands. “She would’ve had to do it herself.”
He nodded grimly. “We’ll look into it. Inderia is cold, yes… but to physically kill?” He hesitated. “I’m not sure.”
I sighed and straightened, brushing my hands down my jacket. “Let’s go see what Theron wants.”
Zander smirked, his expression darkly amused. “No. We wouldn’t want him to think his guards were ignoring his orders.”
We returned to the room and stepped through the open door.
Theron stood near the hearth, his posture practiced—relaxed in that way only predators managed before striking.
At his side, Inderia looked like she’d already won a game we hadn’t even been told we were playing.
Her smile was subtle, razor-edged, and her pale hand rested lightly on Theron’s arm as if she belonged there.
I already hated whatever this was.
“Please,” Theron said, gesturing to two velvet-lined chairs positioned across from them, “be seated.”
“We’re fine,” Zander replied flatly, his voice already edged in ice. “What do you want?”
Theron’s smile curled—all serpent, no soul.
“No need to be discourteous,” he said smoothly. “This is a momentous occasion, after all.”
He paused, eyes gleaming.
“Lady Inderia has agreed to be my bride.”
The words hit like a slap, though I wasn’t surprised. Still, Inderia’s smug expression made it taste worse, like swallowing ash.
“I take my responsibilities to the crown seriously,” Theron continued. “And I expect my family will do the same.”
Zander grunted, jaw tight. “I’m happy for you. Both of you. Will that be all?”
Theron’s smile thinned as his gaze slid from his brother to me, and everything sharpened.
“No,” he said, voice chilling.
“You will end your relations with Rider Rebec.”
I blinked, pulse stuttering.
“She is a commoner,” Theron went on, as if I weren’t standing right there. “And you… despite your true heritage, carry a very special bloodline. One we can no longer afford to waste.”
Zander’s fists clenched.
Theron smiled wider.
“I have chosen a new bride for you.”
The silence that followed burned.
And something inside me, ancient and wild, began to stir.
Zander’s body went taut beside me, fury lashing off him like heat from a forge.
“I will not take a bride of your choosing,” he said, voice as sharp as steel. “If it comes to it, I will denounce my royal title before I ever stand beside someone I do not choose.”
Theron’s smile faltered, then twisted into something sharper. “You will marry her.”
“I won’t,” Zander snapped. “Only the king has the right to broker a marriage treaty for a royal. And you—” his voice darkened, “—are not the king.”
The room fell into silence, thick with power and pride and rage.
Inderia’s smug expression faltered just a little, a crack in her porcelain mask. Theron stepped forward, his composure peeling at the edges.
“I have acted in place of the king since he fell ill,” he said, voice rising with each word. “I’ve protected this kingdom. I’ve carried its weight—”
“And now you want its leash around my throat,” Zander cut in. “No.”
“You would throw away your title?” Theron asked coldly.
“I already told you,” Zander growled. “Enough.”
He turned to me and extended a hand—not a command, not a plea, but a choice.
And I took it.
“I denounce the match,” he said clearly, meeting Theron’s stunned gaze with pure defiance.
Without another word, he led me out.
Down the corridor. Past the guards. Past the lingering nobles still murmuring outside the council chamber.
He didn’t speak until we were inside his bedroom and the door clicked shut behind us.
Zander slammed a fist against the wall, the crack echoing through the room.
His rage trembled beneath his skin, every line of his body pulled too tight, as if even his bones couldn’t contain it.
But I…
I stood still.
Because even though he’d said the words. Even though he’d chosen me.
That lingering weight pressed against my chest—heavy and inevitable.
Because no matter how much he meant it, no matter how fiercely he defied Theron…
The king—whoever that ended up being—would want Zander married to a noble.
I reached up and unfastened my pendant, the cool weight of it pressing into my palm like it knew what was coming.
Zander was still turned away, jaw clenched, shoulders rising and falling with fury as he stared at the cracked stone where his fist had struck the wall.
“Zander,” I said gently.
He turned, and the moment his eyes found mine, I saw something flicker—hope, fear, something he tried to bury under pride.
I held out the ring.
His ring.
The one he’d given me not with a proposal, but with a promise.
His eyes narrowed. “No.”
“Give it to me again,” I said softly, closing the distance between us. “When this is over. Not before.”
His lips parted as if he might argue, but the words died in his throat. Slowly, he extended his hand, palm up.
I placed the ring there, my fingertips brushing his skin.
But as I started to pull back, my finger caught on something—a jagged edge I hadn’t noticed before.
My head snapped up, a strange heat spiking through my veins—
And everything shifted.
White light exploded behind my eyes, a pulse like magic and memory all at once. My knees buckled as the world spun, and before I could hit the floor, Zander’s arms wrapped around me.
“Ashlyn!” he shouted, voice raw and panicked. “Ashlyn—”
The light dimmed slowly, my vision flickering like a dying flame.
My body felt as if it had fallen through time itself. But I could hear him. Feel him.
His arms tight around me. His voice broken and terrified.
And then, with a gasp, I came back—vision blurring, chest rising as air rushed into my lungs.
Zander’s hand cradled the back of my head, his other gripped mine like he was anchoring me to the realm itself.
“What the hell was that?” he breathed.
I blinked, still trembling. “I don’t know.”
“Describe it,” he said.
“Your power mixed with mine… but it wasn’t like before. It felt like…” I shook my head, struggling to find words. “Like a beacon. I can’t explain it. It was like something was summoned.”
Zander’s brows pulled together, worry flickering beneath the protective edge of his expression. “It must be a side effect of the blood oath. Our magic’s gotten stronger since we combined our blood.”
“Do you think it’s dangerous?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted, but even as he said it, I was already feeling it.
A low hum in my chest. No—in my bones. Like a pulse that wasn’t mine. A thrum of ancient, searching energy echoing in every corner of me. And something answered.
I staggered back slightly, hand pressed to my ribs as my eyes went wide. The chamber around us faded into a distant blur, the walls too tight to contain what I felt.
They were waking up.
All of them.
“They’re responding…” I breathed.
Zander stepped toward me, his voice a tether. “Who is?”
I lifted my gaze to his, and a chill slid down my spine.
“The dragons,” I whispered. “All the unbound dragons. I feel them—like whispers in the dark. They’re out there, Zander. Near… and far.”
His eyes searched mine, a flicker of awe softening the lines of concern.
“They’re not in Warriath,” I said slowly, my voice distant as the call inside me deepened. “I don’t know where they are… but they’re far from home.”
And in that moment, I realized something terrifyingly beautiful—
They had heard me.
The door to Zander’s chamber slammed open so hard it rattled the hinges.
Remy stormed in, his eyes blazing, his breath short as if he’d run halfway across the kingdom. “What the hell was that?”
I froze, still kneeling where Zander had caught me. “You—you couldn’t have seen that.”
“I felt it,” he snapped. “As did every bonded rider. And before you ask—no, I wasn’t the only one. Hein is making damn sure that if anyone shares that disturbance with a non-rider, they understand he’ll eat them alive.”
Zander stood slowly, his body still coiled with tension, but his gaze narrowed at Remy’s intrusion.
“I called the dragons,” I said quietly, rising to my feet. “I didn’t mean to, but… they responded.”
“Yes,” Remy said, stalking forward, “but you forced it, Ashe. You didn’t ask them. You didn’t summon a few—you pulled on something ancient. You made them respond. They had no choice.”
My breath caught. “No. I didn’t mean to—”
“How did it happen?” His voice cut like a sword.
“I scratched myself,” I said, holding out my hand, “on Zander’s ring. It triggered… something. A spark.”
“The icon of his power,” Remy said, his voice low with realization. “You touched the core of his magic, through a blood oath sealed with yours. Gods, you two—” He took a sharp step back. “You’re dangerous together.”
I flinched. “Remy—”
“You have to stop being… intimate. You’re blending your power in ways it was never meant to.”
Before his words could fully settle, Zander moved.
Fast.
He grabbed Remy by the collar and slammed him back against the door with enough force to make it groan.
“Don’t ever tell me what I can or cannot be with her,” Zander growled, his voice pure, crackling Dark Fire. “You don’t get to dictate how we love, or how we fight.”
Remy didn’t fight him. Didn’t flinch.
But his voice was as cold as ice. “Then be prepared to burn the continent down with you.”
A sharp chill ran through my spine as Zander and Remy locked eyes, fury hanging heavy in the air between them, like a storm seconds from breaking.
But then—Kaelith stirred.
Her voice brushed against my thoughts, low and ancient, deeper than usual. It wasn’t just a whisper. It was a rumble, like thunder echoing from the bones of the world.
They come.
My breath caught. Who? I asked silently, bracing myself.
The lost horde, she said, and her tone held something I’d never felt from her before—reverence… and warning.
My blood turned to ice.
“Kaelith just spoke to me,” I stated, moving away from the standoff between Zander and Remy. “She says… they’re coming.”
Zander turned toward me, his grip loosening on Remy. “Who’s coming?”
I looked up, my voice barely more than a breath.
“The lost horde.”
Remy’s face paled instantly. Zander straightened, all the heat from the argument bleeding into cold, focused dread.
Kaelith’s voice whispered again.
The ones who never swore the oath. The ones who vanished when the skies turned black. They return now. Not for crown. Not for war. For me. For you.
And in the distance, somewhere beyond the boundaries of magic and realm…
They were flying.