Chapter 35
Chapter
Thirty-Five
We scoured the castle, every corridor, every passage, even the old tunnels beneath the eastern wing that had been locked since the Blood Fae incursion. But Theron was gone.
Without a trace.
After an hour, the mood among the commanders shifted. Unease crept into the lines of their faces as they gathered near the high stairwell. The majors stood in a loose half-circle, their eyes all drawn to Zander. No one said it aloud—but I felt it. The shift. The reality of a crown pressing down.
If Theron didn’t return… Zander would be king.
But he didn’t flinch. He didn’t waver. Zander stood tall, his face a mask of cool determination as he addressed the officers.
“We need to inform the riders,” he said quietly.
I nodded, falling into step beside him as we made our way toward the Ascension Grounds.
The sun had dipped low, casting the courtyard in gold and shadow, but the banners of the squads snapped crisply in the wind.
The riders stood in their ranks, gear half-buckled, some still clutching pieces of bread or tankards of water from interrupted meals.
Major Ledor stepped aside as Zander took his place before them.
Zander’s voice rang out, clear and commanding. “Prince Theron Rayne, my brother, is missing.”
The squads stirred. Murmurs swept like dry leaves across stone.
“He may be impulsive. Ambitious. But he is still a prince of Warriath. We do not abandon our own, no matter our differences.”
He looked across the assembled riders, his voice steady. “We have reason to believe he left the castle without escort. Whether by his own will or someone else’s, we don’t yet know. But we will find him.”
Zander turned slightly, motioning to the dragons that had begun to circle low above the grounds. “Use your dragons’ night vision. Search the perimeter. The forests. The cliffs near the eastern reach. Report back in an hour.”
The squads began to move, mounting their dragons, their wings unfurling in rhythmic bursts. A dozen at a time they lifted into the sky, gray and blue and green shapes disappearing into the darkening horizon.
I stood beside Zander as Kaelith landed behind me, the wind from her wings tugging at my braid.
He didn’t say it—but I could feel it through the bond between us.
If Theron didn’t want to be found, we weren’t just looking for a lost prince.
We were hunting a traitor.
We took to the skies with the rest of the horde.
The moonlight silvered the wings of the dragons, their shadows stretching across the landscape like ghostly banners of war. So many had taken flight that the night sky shimmered with movement. It would’ve been beautiful if not for the knot in my chest.
We searched every ridge, every cliff, every scrap of land around Warriath’s perimeter. But there was no sign of Theron. No broken trail. No disturbed trees. No answers.
An hour later, Kaelith touched down with a soft thud beside Hein. I slid from her back just as Zander dismounted. The moment our boots hit the earth, we heard the shouting.
Iron Fang and Crownwatch were nearly nose to nose, weapons drawn, dragons growling low in their throats, their eyes like coals under starlight.
Zander stepped between them, voice sharp. “What is going on?”
A Crownwatch rider, Olin, shoved a finger toward Perin. “They attacked us. We were patrolling over the North Hollow when we crossed paths. We asked if they had seen Theron. They accused us of ambushing him.”
Perin’s face twisted into something between rage and righteous conviction. “You have him. This is all just a ruse because Dorian knows Theron has more support. He’s hiding. He’s plotting.”
I took a slow breath. The squads didn’t know about Dorian’s condition. About Foran’s silence.
“You think Dorian is behind his brother’s abduction?” I asked, incredulous. “Are you insane?”
Perin turned on me, eyes burning. “I asked Coldrath to reach out to Foran. He refuses to answer. Dorian’s dragon will not confirm his innocence.”
The world tilted beneath my feet.
This was why Dorian was poisoned. Why he stayed hidden. Why he avoided the horde. Not just to protect them… but because he was being set up to fall.
I agree, Zander messaged back. But we will find him and put an end to this shit show.
Zander’s jaw clenched, but his voice was calm. “That is enough. Stand down, all of you. Before someone says something they can’t take back.”
But it was already too late.
The seed of suspicion had been planted.
And I had a feeling we were only just beginning to see how deep it would grow.
Above us, the sky split with the sound of clashing wings.
Two dragons broke from their patrols, twisting in a deadly spiral above the Ascension Grounds.
One was a sleek blue Palisade from Crownwatch, its silver-tipped wings shimmering like forged steel in the moonlight.
The other—a green Clubtail from Iron Fang—was bulkier, built for brute strength and tail strikes. Their roars collided like thunder.
I took a step forward, my pulse leaping.
The Crownwatch dragon dove first, a precise, razor-angled descent, claws outstretched and lightning trailing in its wake. The Clubtail rose to meet it, tail arcing with a deadly snap that barely missed the other dragon’s wing.
The clash wasn’t full combat. Not yet. But it teetered on the edge.
Their riders shouted over the wind, trying to regain control, but the dragons ignored them. Blue met green, claw to claw, scale to scale. They locked for a heartbeat before peeling apart, spiraling through the clouds like warring gods.
Zander cursed beside me, his gaze locked on the sky. “If they start drawing blood, the others will join.”
And he was right. Dragons across the Ascension Grounds shifted, muscles coiling in preparation, sensing the rising aggression like sparks catching dry grass.
Kaelith’s voice licked through my mind, low and tense. This is how wars begin. Not with a battle cry… but with dragons who forget their brethren are not the enemy.
We had to stop this—before one wrong move turned suspicion into war.
Jax and Ferrula landed hard, their dragons skidding to stillness with low, warning growls. Ferrula jumped out of the saddle before her boots hit the ground.
“What’s going on?” she asked, brushing windblown hair from her freckled face.
I opened my mouth to answer, but the words never came.
Perin stormed toward her, fury warping every line of his face. “You traitor—”
He shoved Ferrula hard.
She stumbled back, caught off guard, and Jax surged forward.
“Touch her again and I’ll—”
The rest of Iron Fang moved like a pack, surrounding Perin, but Thrall Squad closed ranks just as fast. Cordelle stepped between Riven and an Iron Fang brute, Naia’s power already sparking at her fingertips.
Tension snapped.
Someone shouted, but no one listened. There was a violent shuffle of boots, bodies, and blades. I saw elbows fly, fists collide. Ferrula ducked under a punch and clipped an Iron Fang cadet with a solid jab to the ribs.
And then—
Steel sang.
A sword flashed from its sheath, slicing downward with precision.
Jax gasped and stumbled back, blood blooming down the side of his ribs.
“Jax!” I cried, rushing forward—
But I wasn’t the only one.
Koddos roared.
The massive blue Palisade wheeled with thunder in his chest, barreling toward the man who had dared harm his rider. The Iron Fang dragon—a brown Swordtail—met him mid-air, claws hooking, teeth gnashing.
Their wings collided, slamming like battering rams as they clawed and bit at each other. Dust exploded around them, chunks of earth ripped up by their fury. Koddos’ armored head rammed the Swordtail’s flank, knocking the other dragon into a tower wall.
Kaelith’s rage rose beside them, but she didn’t move. Not yet.
And then—
A roar split the sky.
It wasn’t one of fury.
It was command.
Siergen landed in the center of the Ascension Grounds like a meteor, crimson light cracking off his scales as his voice echoed across the entire kingdom. It wasn’t shouted aloud, but embedded in every dragon’s mind. Every rider’s soul.
Enough.
The dragons froze. Koddos and the Swordtail pulled apart mid-snarl. Ferrula dropped her fists. Perin backed away, eyes wide with something dangerously close to fear.
The air itself seemed to hold its breath as Siergen’s power settled over us all like a silencing storm. And just like that—the fighting stopped.
Ferrula dropped to her knees beside Jax, her fingers already pulling back the torn fabric of his tunic. Blood had soaked through the side of his leathers, but it wasn’t gushing. She pressed her palm gently to the wound, her brow furrowed.
“You’re lucky,” she muttered. “It’s shallow. Bastard missed anything vital.”
“I think he cracked a rib anyway,” Jax winced, but his smirk was still in place. “Or maybe that was from your elbow earlier.”
She shot him a look, then turned her head slowly toward the looming form of Siergen. His golden eyes blazed like twin suns, still holding the squadrons in awed silence.
Ferrula’s voice cut through it all, dry and laced with disbelief. “Is anyone else wondering how a pocket-sized dragon just split the sky with his voice?”
Kaelith’s laugh echoed in my mind. You should’ve heard him when we were hatchlings. He once silenced an entire rookery with a yawn.
Zander stepped to my side, his voice low. “They’re not going to forget this. None of them.”
I nodded slowly, eyes still locked on Siergen. “No. And maybe that’s the point.”