Chapter 21
Chapter
Twenty-One
Theron strode from the castle steps like a man born to command, guards fanned around him in rigid formation. Inderia clung to his arm like a trophy, her smile all venom and victory. But it was the girl behind them who caught my eye.
She walked with her head bowed, a veil of silky blond hair shielding her face. Her steps were too careful, too soft, like someone walking toward a noose.
Theron stopped in front of us, his icy gaze sliding over me like I was dirt he couldn’t quite scrape off his boots. Inderia’s smugness made me want to bare my teeth, but I stayed still, pulse hammering in my throat.
Theron motioned to the girl.
“This is Amelia,” he said, voice ringing with false civility. “She is Lady Belana’s sister. We promised her father a royal connection, and since I have chosen to uphold your contract—” he looked to Inderia, who batted her lashes with a practiced grace, “—you will uphold mine.”
His eyes snapped to Zander. “You will marry Amelia.”
My breath caught.
Amelia slowly lifted her head.
Gods.
She was stunning. All wide violet-blue eyes and trembling lips. Even more beautiful than Belana had been. But where Belana had worn her beauty like armor, Amelia wore hers like chains. She was young—too young—and the panic in her gaze was unmistakable.
Zander stared at her, stunned.
And though he didn’t speak, I saw the truth in his silence.
Amelia looked like she’d rather be tossed into a viper pit than stand here, tethered to a man she didn’t know… as a pawn in her dead sister’s place.
Zander’s fingers curled around mine, warm and steady, and he stepped forward without a hint of hesitation. His voice carried, calm but firm. “Lady Amelia,” he said, his gaze never wavering from hers, “you are even more beautiful than your sister, but I have chosen another.”
Amelia blinked, lips parting.
“You have served your duty to the crown and can no longer be forced into a contract,” he continued. “I wish you well in your search for a suitable husband. I sincerely hope you choose love over duty.”
Amelia lifted a hand to her chest, stunned.
“Thank you, Prince Rayne,” she whispered, her voice trembling with something that sounded a lot like hope.
“I will not squander this gift.” Then she gathered the hem of her gown and rushed toward the castle, her long hair trailing behind her like smoke in the wind.
Theron’s expression twisted with rage. He stepped forward and jabbed his finger hard into Zander’s chest. “What have you done?”
Zander didn’t flinch. “I’ve released her,” he said coolly. “She fulfilled her obligation and nothing you say can change it. And in case you had other brides waiting in the wind, you should know I will reject them too.”
His hand tightened around mine as he turned to glance at me. “Ashlyn is my choice.”
Then he looked back at Theron, something dark flashing in his eyes. “I will never be king, and we both know my bloodline is not of Emlem Rayne. My children will be riders.”
For a heartbeat, no one moved. Not even the wind dared to interrupt the truth hanging in the air.
Theron’s face turned a violent shade of crimson.
“You insolent little bastard,” he hissed, spittle flying from his lips.
“You think because the dragons favor you, that you’re untouchable?
You spit on every tradition of this realm.
You break bonds, reject contracts, flaunt your defiance like a banner—”
Doors along the barracks cracked open one by one. Boots struck stone. Riders—ours, Crownwatch, Stormforge, even a few from Warborn—emerged, drawn by the sound of the second prince’s fury. They stepped into the open and formed a loose circle around us, silent sentinels bearing witness.
Zander didn’t flinch. He glanced around at the growing crowd. “You’ve always enjoyed a spectacle, Theron.”
Theron’s eyes blazed as he stepped forward, the muscles in his jaw clenching.
“You will regret this,” he snarled. “You will marry who I choose. Or you will leave these grounds stripped of rank and title, cast into exile like the traitor you are. Denounce my command again, and I’ll have the guards drag you from your bed in chains. ”
Kaelith’s roar echoed in the distance, distant thunder that seemed to ripple through the very bones of the castle.
Zander stood taller, his voice low but resolute. “Then you’d best be prepared to follow through on that threat, Brother. Because I’m done bowing to your ambition.”
The silence that followed was sharp enough to cut steel. Until a dragon’s roar cut through the air.
Siergen’s red wings swept dust across the Ascension Grounds as he landed, his scales catching the last of the sun’s light and turning it to fire. He moved with slow, deliberate steps—less beast, more sovereign. His eyes locked on Theron, and the hatred burning in them made my skin crawl.
Tell the idiotic prince, Siergen’s voice echoed through both mine and Zander’s minds, that if he threatens you again, the riders who wish to remain bonded with their dragons will be relocated to the Dragon Isle. The treaty will be nullified.
Zander didn’t hesitate. He turned to Theron, his jaw taut. “Siergen says if you threaten me again, all willing riders will relocate to the isle—and the treaty between dragon and the crown of Warriath will be voided.”
The fury that surged across Theron’s face was volcanic. His hand twitched at his side as if he wished he had a sword in it. “You let that Courier lizard threaten me?” he spat. “You’ll let a beast dictate the laws of the realm?”
Inderia’s hand clenched around his arm, her lips drawn into a sneer as she cut a daggered glare in my direction. If looks could kill, I would’ve dropped dead on the stones.
Zander didn’t answer. He didn’t have to.
Siergen’s voice boomed aloud this time, so that every rider heard his words. No king holds authority over the dragons. Not now. Not ever. And Theron Rayne will never rule Warriath as long as I draw breath.
But Theron was not a rider and did not hear the decree. It was Major Ledor who stepped forward. “Theron, if you continue this… discussion, then the riders… all riders will leave with the dragons.”
Gasps rippled through the onlookers.
Theron scoffed, forcing a guttural grunt through clenched teeth. “I am not afraid of a Courier dragon.”
Siergen stepped forward, his shadow swallowing the second prince whole. His teeth bared, fangs glinting. Then you’re a fool.
Kaelith landed behind me, her presence thunderous. If he moves against us again, she said, her voice sharp in my mind, I’ll make sure he fears more than dragons.
Zander didn’t raise his voice—he didn’t need to. There was steel in every word, and Kaelith’s looming presence behind him only sharpened the blade.
“Theron,” he said, staring straight at his brother, “you are about to lose more than the throne. Your idiocy knows no bounds, and you’re on the verge of destroying the only alliance that can save you.”
Theron sneered, but Zander didn’t flinch. “If not for yourself,” Zander continued, “think of the people. The innocents in the villages. The children in the castle. All will be enslaved if we lose this war. And make no mistake, without the dragons, we will.”
Theron scoffed, lifting his chin. “The dragons need us too. That’s the reason the treaty was made.”
Zander nodded once. “True. But the dragons were unaware their brethren had survived on the lost continent when they made that treaty. Now they know. And they’ve already been offered an alternative to the Dragon Isle.”
A hush fell over the grounds like a dropped veil.
Theron’s face paled, and I could see the realization settling like ash in his expression. He hadn’t considered the dragons could simply… leave.
But Inderia…
Inderia smiled.
It wasn’t the gleeful grin of someone who’d won, it was slow and knowing. A smile of approval.
As if this possibility, the mass exodus of dragons and riders alike, was a solution to a problem only she understood. Or worse, one she had planned for.
I studied her carefully, her fingers delicately at her waist, her posture regal and calm. But behind her mask, something stirred. Something sharp.
What was her game?
She looked at Theron and gave him a faint smile.
Theron’s face had gone the color of old parchment. “I need to confer with the council about this development,” he muttered, voice brittle and strained. “It seems… it was a mistake to rely on the dragons to protect us.”
Then he turned, Inderia glued to his side like ivy to a crumbling wall, and the two of them disappeared into the castle without another word.
Not a single rider moved.
Not Crownwatch. Not Warborn. Not even Iron Fang.
Because it had become painfully clear—to all of us—that Siergen held more sway with the dragons than anyone had ever dared believe.
More than the king. More than the crown.
More than Theron ever could.
I stood frozen, the weight of it all settling in my chest like a stone. My voice came out low, barely a whisper. “Will we really leave our people to perish?”
My thoughts wandered, unbidden, to Solei. To the children who played near the market square with wooden swords and stone shields. To the bakers and smiths and seamstresses. To the men and women who had no magic, no wings, no dragons. Just hope.
They’ll die without us.
Siergen’s voice wrapped around my thoughts like smoke and steel, I hope Theron will come to his senses. But he is obsessed with power, and can’t see that such things are nothing but an illusion.
“You think power is an illusion?” I asked, watching as the last sliver of Theron’s cloak disappeared into the castle’s shadow.
True power requires control, Siergen said, and that is never an absolute.
“I’m not sure I understand.”
He turned his massive head, golden eyes settling on me with quiet intensity.
Even the most powerful dragon will die, his voice echoed like ancient memory, and sometimes the seemingly weakest human will become king… or queen.
I swallowed hard, the truth of it hitting somewhere deep. Not because I wanted a throne—but because I understood, finally, what he meant.
“What an awful thought,” I said quietly, because it meant that nothing was safe. Not the crown. Not the dragons. Not even hope.
Siergen didn’t answer.
He simply spread his wings and launched into the sky, leaving the Ascension Grounds heavy with silence and the aftertaste of truths we weren’t ready to speak aloud.