Chapter 17
Chapter
Seventeen
Zander stepped out of the castle, the golden light catching in his freshly changed tunic, the crests of his house pressed crisp at his shoulders. He looked stronger, more rested—until his eyes landed on the squad lines.
More specifically… on Iron Fang.
On Cade.
Cade stood shoulder to shoulder with Perin, calm, proud—like he belonged. Perin, of course, wore the expression of a predator who had just secured a meal he didn’t deserve. He clapped Cade on the back, a smug smile curling at the edges of his mouth as if he knew this would hurt Zander most.
Zander’s eyes turned black.
Not in rage.
In magic.
Dark Fire stirred beneath his skin, and I stepped toward him, grounding myself in front of him like I could hold him back if it came to that.
“What happened?” I asked, barely keeping my voice from shaking as I glanced between him and his best friend now standing with the enemy.
Zander’s jaw worked before he spoke. “Cade requested a transfer. Said he believes Theron should be the next king… since Dorian refuses to return.”
I sucked in a breath. “But how can he do that to you?”
Zander didn’t answer right away. His hands clenched at his sides, the telltale shimmer of his magic flickering along his knuckles.
“Theron got to him,” he finally said. “I don’t know how. I don’t know what he promised, but Cade wouldn’t do this without a reason.”
I turned to him, heart aching at the raw betrayal in his voice, but before I could say anything, Ferrula’s voice cracked across the grounds like a whip.
“You will regret this,” she shouted.
We both turned.
Ferrula’s voice rose through the rising tension.
“I will kill him if he betrays us.”
Her tone was fierce, unflinching, but the way her eyes clung to his face told a different story. A softer one. A breaking one.
Jax stood there, jaw tight, his broad shoulders coiled as if he were holding too much in. “Just wait. Give it some time,” he said, his voice low, raw.
And then he stepped forward and cupped her face.
Ferrula didn’t pull away.
Not when his lips met hers.
Not when he kissed her as if it were the last time.
The moment stretched, silent and aching, before he pulled back just enough to breathe the words against her lips.
“All I want is for you to choose me.”
Then he turned without waiting for her answer and walked away.
Ferrula stood still, the storm behind her eyes raging as the fire in her heart threatened to consume everything she thought she knew.
My gaze moved from her to Zander’s best friend.
Cade and the rest of Iron Fang mounted up with military precision, every movement sharpened by purpose. The moment Cade swung onto his dragon’s back, Zander’s jaw flexed so tightly I worried he’d crack a tooth.
Then they took to the sky.
Not like a patrol.
Like they had a mission.
Zander’s hand trembled where it clenched at his side, and I slipped mine into it.
“Is there somewhere we can go?” I asked quietly. “It’s late.”
He didn’t say anything at first, but he nodded once and led me toward the ladders that went up the far turret of the eastern wall. We climbed in silence.
When we reached the top, the salt-kissed wind tangled in my hair, and the turret opened into a wide lookout point overlooking the sea. Zander moved to the far wall, sitting with his back against the stone, knees drawn up slightly, and I slid down beside him.
The moon hung heavy and full over the water, casting silver ripples across the dark waves below.
“I’m sorry,” I said after a moment, voice hushed against the sounds of waves and wind.
Zander let out a long breath, running a hand through his hair. “Theron’s always playing some angle,” he muttered. “And if it hurts me or Dorian… all the better.”
We didn’t speak for a while.
Not about war.
Not about riders.
Not about courts or crowns.
Just the two of us.
Zander tilted his head toward me, his eyes softer now, less flame and more starlight. “Do you ever think about where you’d be if none of this had happened?”
I glanced at him, smiling faintly. “Probably breaking into castles, stealing heirlooms, living in a nice brothel.”
He laughed, really laughed, the sound low and warm in the night. “I would’ve found you.”
I arched a brow. “Oh really?”
“Yeah,” he said, nudging my knee with his. “I think my life would’ve led me straight to yours, one way or another. Even if I didn’t have a title. Even if you didn’t have Kaelith.”
I leaned into his side, resting my head on his shoulder. “You’re such a sap when you’re not wrapped in Dark Fire.”
He chuckled again, his arm sliding around me. “Don’t tell anyone. It’ll ruin my reputation.”
“Your secret’s safe with me, prince.”
For a moment, there was no prophecy hanging over our heads.
No politics.
Just us.
Two people sitting in a turret, watching the moon over a sleeping kingdom, pretending the world wasn’t ending one dragon fire and betrayal at a time.
Zander turned his head, just slightly, and his eyes found mine in the quiet dark. The ocean wind played with the edges of his hair, and the moonlight turned the lavender of his gaze to liquid silver.
His fingers brushed my cheek.
Gentle. Reverent. Like he was afraid I might vanish if he moved too quickly.
I didn’t.
I couldn’t.
His touch anchored me, pulling me from the whirlwind of battles and broken loyalties, of blood-soaked skies and fractured futures. Right here, in this breath between chaos, he was just him. And I was just me.
He leaned in slowly, giving me every chance to pull away.
I didn’t.
When his lips met mine, the world didn’t stop, it dissolved.
Everything else—Theron’s manipulations, Cade’s betrayal, even the prophecy slipped away. His kiss was warm and slow, but it held the echo of a thousand unsaid things. Regret. Longing. Love.
His hand slid into my hair, drawing me closer as his mouth claimed mine more deeply. There was no hunger in it. No rush.
Just need.
And choice.
Because no matter what fate demanded of us, I had already chosen him.
And he had chosen me.
When we finally pulled apart, he rested his forehead against mine, his breath mingling with mine in the dark.
“Despite everything…” he whispered.
His thumb brushed over my jaw, and he smiled softly.
“You’re still my everything.”
The wind whispered around the turret like it was holding its breath, and the waves below churned against the cliffs, a steady rhythm beneath the silence we shared. Zander still held me, his fingers twined with mine now, as we sat together in the hush that followed that kiss.
I shifted, just enough to see the way his expression had changed—calmer now. Resolved.
“I want to say something,” he said quietly.
My breath caught.
“Not because of what happened.”
I nodded, the lump in my throat too tight to speak.
“No matter what the crown tries to force on me… no matter who tells me to walk away from you—I won’t.”
His voice cracked slightly. “You are my storm and my anchor. My choice, Ashe. And I will walk beside you until my last breath, whether the world wants us or not.”
I stared at him, my chest aching. I blinked once, twice, then pulled his hand to my heart.
“My turn.”
He waited, still and solemn.
“No matter what blood runs in my veins, no matter what power stirs in me—I will never walk this path without you,” I whispered. “Not because fate says we belong. Because I say we do. And if I have to burn every prophecy and shatter every throne to keep you, I will.”
We didn’t speak for a while after that.
Just held each other.
No magic rose. No glowing sigils. No ancient binding or celestial reaction.
Just our words.
Spoken like a promise carved into the bones of the night.
Oaths not forged in fire, but in love.