Chapter 7
Chapter
Seven
Z ander stood in the center of the ring, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. His voice cut through the crisp morning air, commanding but calm.
“Naia, Ferrula—you’re up.”
The two women stepped forward, both clearly talented fighters, their stances sharp and confident as they began circling each other. All eyes were on them, watching every calculated movement, every testing feint.
All eyes except for his.
I could feel Zander’s gaze on me.
At first, I thought it was anger, a lingering grudge for the punch I’d landed, but the longer I ignored him, the more my cheeks flushed.
His eyes weren’t burning with fury.
They held something else.
Curiosity?
Obsession?
I swallowed and forced myself to focus on the match, but my eyes betrayed me, drifting back to him far too often. Every time I glanced over, he was still looking, only turning away when it was time to assign the next match.
Riven nudged me, her voice low and amused. “I think you have an admirer.”
I grunted. “Yeah, one that wants me dead.”
She laughed, but I wasn’t joking.
We finished up training, sweat clinging to our skin, bruises forming where hits had landed. Zander stepped to the center of the ring once more, his posture still sharp, still too unreadable for my liking.
“You have one hour,” he announced. “Wash up and be back here.”
The squad didn’t waste time getting back to our barracks. With only one washroom, we took turns—some faster than others. I sat on my bed, towel-drying my face, when Tae dropped onto the mattress beside me.
“You were good today,” he said, giving me a sideways look. “I’ve never seen anyone get a hit on Zander.”
I shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “It was luck. But Solei started training me as soon as Cyran took me in. I’m not as good as her, but I can hold my own.”
“I’ll say.”
I leaned back, resting against the headboard. “Tae, you’ve been bonded for a year. Have you developed an ability?”
Tae hesitated, then exhaled deeply. “I’m not allowed to tell you. It’s a senior power.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Senior power?”
“It’s something only upper ranks know about. But I can tell you it really pisses them off.” His grin was wicked. “That someone like me possesses it.”
That intrigued me more than I wanted to admit.
I tilted my head. “Can you tell me about Zander, then? Is he always such a?—”
“Douche?” Tae smirked.
I laughed. “Yeah. Cade says he was always this way, but I think they’re better friends than he lets on.”
Tae blinked. “You talked to Cade?” He whistled. “Wow. Yeah, they’re tight. Cade’s father trained Zander and his brothers. He was the best swordsman in the kingdom.”
I frowned. “What happened to him?”
Tae’s expression darkened slightly. “The same thing that happens to every older swordsman. He slowed down and lost a fight.”
Something about the way he said it made my chest hurt.
Tae leaned forward. “Cade was a teenager when it happened. By then, Zander wouldn’t let him be anywhere but his side. Cade might be lowborn, but he and Zander are equals in the ring.”
I studied him. “So Zander just hates me on principle?”
Tae was quiet for a long moment.
“No,” he said finally. “I think it’s personal with you.”
I frowned. “Why?”
Tae hesitated, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “He was very close to his older brother. They both had silver dragons. They looked like twins, even though Zander was younger.”
My stomach sank.
“Shit.”
Tae nodded. “Yeah. That last name of yours would be fatal if you were anywhere but Fourth Guild.”
“But I was supposed to be a healer,” I said.
Tae grunted. “You wouldn’t have lasted two days in the Yarrow Gardens.” His voice dropped, weight behind his words. “We have plenty of healers, Ashlyn. But the prospect of the Sentinel on the field? That’s the only thing keeping you alive.”
A knock at the door cut through the conversation.
Jax grabbed the parchment from the messenger, his brows furrowing as he scanned it.
“Looks like you have another royal date,” he said, handing it to me.
I took the paper, breaking the seal, but it wasn’t from Zander.
Or the guild.
I plastered a fake smile on my face, though my insides churned with unease. Cyran never summoned me unless he needed something.
“Looks like I have to go,” I said, stuffing the parchment into my jacket. “I’ll meet you guys back at the ring in half an hour.”
Tae, Riven, and Jax exchanged wary glances but didn’t question it. Good.
I threw on my jacket and made my way toward the main gate, keeping my steps even, my expression neutral. I searched the line of guards until I found the one with green eyes and a scar on his hand.
He barely acknowledged me as I strode up and handed him the order bearing the royal seal. It was a fake, but as far as the other guards were concerned, I was simply following instructions.
“Be back in thirty minutes,” he said, voice gruff but laced with something close to reluctance.
I nodded, as if I respected his authority, instead of knowing he was on my father’s payroll.
Then, I jogged through the twisting streets of Warriath, to the tavern, weaving between empty tables. It was still too early for the city to be lively, as the usual bustle of the underground crowd was yet to begin.
I slipped through the back door of the quiet-looking establishment, the door blending seamlessly into the stone wall. A short passage led me to a staircase carved into the earth, winding down into the hidden heart of my father’s criminal empire.
The compound smelled the same, incense masking the ever-present scent of steel, ink, and blood.
Cyran looked up from his desk as I strode into his immaculate office. The moment his sharp gaze landed on me, his eyes widened slightly, though it wasn’t surprise that lingered there, it was calculation.
“You are a dragon rider?”
“Yes,” I said flatly. “And apparently, I would have been dead if I’d entered the Healers’ Guild.”
Cyran shrugged, as if the loss of my life would’ve been nothing more than an unfortunate misstep in his grand design. “There are always risks in war.”
I narrowed my eyes. “And you and I are at war now?”
Cyran smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Not at all. You are my most valuable asset.”
“Is that what I am?” I asked, my voice dripping with bitterness.
His smile remained. “I need you to infiltrate the royal vault.”
I blinked. “The royal vault? As in the one in the castle?”
“Yes.”
I let out a short, humorless laugh. “You’re insane.”
“Not at all. I’ve invested a great deal of money and resources into your training.”
Rage simmered beneath my skin. “No, you didn’t. Octavia trained me herself.”
Cyran’s expression didn’t change, but his voice took on a razor’s edge.
“Yes, but no one gets that training without my approval. Every aspect of your life has been carefully guided since you landed in Stella’s lap.”
A cold, nauseating dread curled in my stomach.
“Stella and Dalila died because of you, didn’t they?” I whispered.
His lip twitched, the first sign of irritation. “No, my dear. They died because of you.”
My heart skipped a beat.
“What?”
“Stella was murdered because I showed her favor. I gave her my business when she was a mediocre tailor at best. A decision I made after she showed me her white-haired daughter. I suspected she knew more about your mother, but she maintained her story, no matter how much I offered.”
Bile rose in my throat.
“But Octavia… she was caught stealing.” My voice wavered.
Cyran leaned back in his chair, watching me with a detached sort of amusement. “When Stella died and Octavia became your caregiver, I gave her preferred jobs—ones with lower risk and higher rewards.”
“And that got her killed.”
Cyran’s expression didn’t shift, but his voice was softer—almost mocking.
“One of my competitors heard about you. She was murdered in your suite while you slept. They planned to take you, but I had someone guarding you. He eliminated the would-be abductors, and you were placed under Dalila’s care.”
My chest tightened, my lungs struggling to expand.
“So you never loved Dalila,” I whispered.
Cyran’s smile turned cold. “On the contrary. I was already seeing her. I arranged for you to be hers, but she loved you like her own. She had miscarried a few years prior and could not have more children.”
I felt like I might be sick.
“You’re more of a bastard than I thought.”
Cyran only chuckled. “That may be true, but you will infiltrate the vault for me.”
I crossed my arms. “Like you’re not rich enough already?”
His amusement vanished. “I do not need money. I need information. Someone is working with the enemy.”
I froze. “No way. Not in the castle.”
“I am sure of it. And they have infiltrated my organization. I do not know how, but I need to know who.”
I exhaled, rubbing my temple. “What exactly am I looking for?”
“Correspondence. Whoever it is has royal clearance. Only royal caravans are exempt from inspections.”
I let out a low curse. “I’ll look, but there’s no guarantee they’ll keep anything incriminating in the vault.”
“Hopefully, you’ll know it when you see it.”
I grunted, already regretting this entire visit.
As I turned to leave, I nearly crashed into Solei.
“Solei!” I hugged her on instinct, and she patted my back half-heartedly, more out of habit than affection.
She was her father’s daughter, and a lifetime of training wasn’t something that faded easily.
She pulled back, her eyes scanning me. “Holy shit, you’re a rider.”
I nodded. “Yeah. But my dragon’s not exactly receptive. It’s a work in progress.”
“I hear they can get surly,” she smirked. “You’ll win her over. You can charm just about anyone.”
I snorted. “What are you up to?”
Solei winked. “I have a date tonight.”
I lifted a brow. “A real one? Or will this guy be pushing up daisies by morning?”
She laughed, a rare, genuine sound. “A real one. Unless he’s a prick. Then it’s the latter.”
“Does he know what you do for the Order?”
“Of course not. Do you think he’d date me if he did?”
“Good point.”
She gave me a pointed look. “And you? Had any swoon-worthy hookups since you joined the army?”
I grunted. “Hardly. The entire squad has to share a room.”
“Yes, but nobles have their own rooms,” she teased, wiggling her eyebrows.
I rolled my eyes. “You hate nobles. Why would you suggest that?”
Solei smirked. “You can fuck them silly. It makes them easier to manipulate. Just don’t fall for one. Or I’ll have to kill him.”
I shook my head. “I’m not ready yet.”
Her expression sobered.
“You have to get over Remy sometime, Ashe. He would have moved on if it had been you.”
I winced. Harsh, but likely true.
Assassins were not the kind to stay celibate. Once Remy had finally made his way to my bed, I only slept alone if he was on assignment.
I checked the time. “Gerane said a half-hour. I have to go.”
Solei winked as I briskly walked toward the stairs leading back to the tavern.
By the time I returned to the training grounds, my squad was already gathered at the ring.
Jax stood with his arms crossed, watching Cordelle attempt—and fail spectacularly—to execute a basic combat maneuver.
“No, no, no,” Jax groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. “Cordelle, you’re not writing poetry, you’re throwing a punch. Stop flicking your wrist like you’re signing a damn love letter.”
Cordelle huffed, adjusting his stance. “Excuse me for not being born a brawler.”
I smirked, momentarily amused before my mind drifted back to my father’s office, to the secrets he had unraveled.
The royal vault. A traitor in the castle. A lifetime of carefully constructed lies.
I clenched my fists.
I had always discussed my concerns with Solei or Remy.
Now, I had nobody.
I glanced toward Riven, debating whether to confide in her. She was smart, steady, and out of everyone in my squad, she was the one I trusted the most.
But trust was a dangerous thing.
Especially now.
I pushed the thought away and tried to focus, shaking off the feeling of unease curling in my gut.
Then Naia approached me.
Her dark eyes narrowed, calculating. “Where did you go?”
I stiffened, caught completely off guard. “What?”
“You left the castle grounds,” she said, matter-of-factly.
My body stiffened, but I kept my expression neutral. How in the name of Charrem did she know?
“I had orders,” I lied smoothly.
Naia snorted, crossing her arms. “Bullshit.”
Tension thickened between us, the accusation clear in her tone.
Before I could figure out how to deflect, Riven stepped in.
“Back off, Naia,” she said, her voice firm. “We all have secrets, and if Ashe had orders, that’s not our concern.”
Naia held my gaze for a long, uncomfortable second before rolling her shoulders in a shrug. “Fine,” she muttered, stepping back. “For now.”
I exhaled, forcing myself to stay composed. I needed to be careful. One slip, one wrong move, and I would end up in the dungeon.
A sharp whistle broke the tension, and we turned to see Major Kaler approaching.
“Jax, Cordelle—you’re finished.” He motioned for them to step back before scanning the rest of us.
“Thrall Squad, you are all about to embark on your next trial.” His voice carried across the training yard, drawing the attention of a few nearby cadets.
“You are tasked with retrieving the Dragon Tear.”