Chapter 8 #2
Zander stepped back, his scowl deepening. He said nothing, just watched as Jax dug his heels into the stallion’s side, and we surged forward into the night.
We rode in silence for several minutes, the rhythmic pounding of hooves against the dirt the only sound filling the empty space between us.
My body ached with every movement, but the steady warmth of Jax behind me kept me from slipping.
My head rested against his chest, my body leaning into his as his arm circled my waist, keeping me upright.
“Now would be a good time for you to do your healing thing,” he murmured, his breath warm against my ear.
I exhaled, but I didn’t move. Instead, I let myself stay there, held together by Jax’s grip, by the rhythmic sway of the horse beneath us. There was something comforting about it—like the way a brother might shelter a sister.
After discovering that nearly every part of my life had been carefully manipulated, I allowed the moment of vulnerability.
Even Soleil had likely only trained me because our father told her to.
Was any relationship in my life real?
Remy.
His name alone brought a fresh ache to my chest. Memories of him flooded my mind—the way he used to grin at me, how he always made sure I had an extra dagger, how he was the only one who had ever felt like mine.
“Don’t worry, Ashe. I’ve got you.”
Jax’s words were soft, almost drowned out by the wind, but they pulled me from my thoughts.
I almost laughed at the irony.
The closest things I had to true friends or family were the people who had been sold into this army and forced to fight together.
By the time we reached our barracks, exhaustion had fully settled in my bones. Jax dismounted first before reaching up to help me down. I barely had the strength to move, but he was patient, steadying me as I nearly collapsed against him.
“Come on,” he said, half-carrying me toward the barracks. He didn’t let go until we were inside, where the familiar scent of metal and leather surrounded me.
Jax led me straight to the washroom, then disappeared momentarily, returning with fresh clothes from my wardrobe. He held them out, but hesitated.
“Do you need help? I swear I won’t look. I had a sister, and that’s how I see you and the other ladies in the group.”
Despite the pain, I managed a weak smile. “I know. But I’m okay. Healing ability and all.”
He nodded but glanced toward the door, lowering his voice. “The others will be back soon. It’s not unusual for halflings to have some healing, but yours is next level. Hide your torso for the next week or so.”
“I will.”
I closed the door, bracing myself against the basin as I finally took a proper look at the wounds. Deep, angry gashes trailed along my skin, faintly glowing in the dim candlelight. The pain wasn’t just from the slashes.
I swallowed hard and forced myself to clean up. The fresh water stung as I washed the dried blood away, the act grounding me in reality.
By the time I changed into the fresh clothes and cleaned the worst of the damage from my ruined ones, exhaustion overtook me. I barely made it to my bed before I collapsed, my body surrendering to the weight of sleep.
I didn’t wake when the others returned.
The weight on my bed was what finally pulled me from the haze of exhaustion.
For a moment, I kept my eyes closed, unwilling to face whoever had decided to invade my space. It wasn’t until I felt the subtle shift of movement—a presence that wasn’t hurried or intrusive but waiting—that I finally forced myself to open them.
Naia.
Of all people, I hadn’t expected her.
She sat at the edge of my bed, one leg tucked under her, studying me with an expression that was unreadable in the dim light of the barracks. The usual sharpness in her eyes was softer now, but there was still something piercing about the way she looked at me.
“How are you?” she asked, her voice quieter than usual.
I swallowed, my throat dry. “I’ve been better.”
Naia nodded slightly, then exhaled. “That trial should have killed you.”
There was no mockery in her tone, no amusement or gloating. If anything… she almost sounded impressed.
“I know.”
Her gaze flickered over me, lingering on the bruises darkening my arms and the barely healed slashes peeking out from the collar of my shirt. Something crossed her expression—something thoughtful, calculating.
“We’re going for a late dinner,” she said after a beat. “Are you up to joining us? If not, I’ll bring you back some food.”
The thought of eating made my stomach turn. My body still hadn’t fully recovered, and the lingering ache of whatever the ghosts had done to me curled deep in my gut like a sickness I couldn’t shake.
“I think I’ll grab some rest,” I admitted. “But I appreciate the offer. I’m not sure I could stomach food right now.”
Naia nodded, as if she’d expected that.
A silence settled between us, and for once, it wasn’t uncomfortable. She didn’t press me for details. Didn’t offer empty reassurances. Just gave a slow nod before pushing herself up from my bed.
“Rest, then,” she said simply.
I watched as she moved toward the others, who were already grabbing fresh clothes and muttering about where they should go. Within minutes, they were changed and slipping out the door, their voices fading into the night.
And then, I was alone again.
I had barely drifted into a light rest before the soft creak of the hallway door pulled me back to awareness. I didn’t open my eyes at first, assuming one of my squadmates had returned early. But then I heard nothing—no shuffling of boots, no muttered complaints about the long trek back.
And then I felt it.
A warm weight settled against my shoulder, a presence both foreign and strangely familiar. The sensation of smooth, cool scales pressing against my skin sent a shiver down my spine.
I turned slightly, blinking against the dim candlelight, and found myself staring into golden eyes with onyx-slit pupils.
Hello, Blossom.
His lips didn’t move, but the voice resonated through my mind like distant thunder.
I swallowed, my hand slipping from beneath my covers, hovering uncertainly over his massive snout.
“Hello, Siergen.” I spoke aloud, my voice rasping from exhaustion.
His breath warmed my arm as he stood impossibly still, watching me with an intelligence that felt ancient.
You are in pain.
I let out a slow breath. “I will heal. I always heal.”
The spirits of the past hurt you in ways that cut deeper than any blade.
I shifted, my fingers curling slightly against the sheets. “I noticed. At first, I thought it was poison.”
It can feel as such… or so I am told.
“I don’t recommend walking through that particular cave.”
His head tilted slightly, considering. That cave has no effect on me or my brethren.
“Well, you’re the only one who would fit in it.”
Red was silent for a long moment, his golden gaze flickering with something unreadable.
We assumed the hatchlings and younger dragons were safe there once, he finally said, his voice quieter now. But we learned that we were wrong.
My heart stuttered.
The ghosts are real. They actually died there?
Yes.
A chill spread through my limbs, different from the pain still lingering in my muscles. I had thought the memories were echoes, illusions of the past. But they weren’t. They were remnants.
“But I saw a dragon… a mother… She tried to shield them.”
Her name was Fyvna. Red’s tone softened, though sorrow clung to every word. S he broke her own wings to fit inside the cave and protect the hatchlings hiding within. But she died in there with them.
By Charrem, I whispered, the name of the death god suddenly feeling heavier on my tongue.
The God of Death was not merciful that day.
“I’m sorry. Did you know her?”
Yes. He exhaled, a deep, rumbling sound. She was a Catalan. Many of her species perished in those caves. They are rare to this day.
A realization struck me, sharp and cold. “Is that why it felt like I was poisoned? Was she punishing us?”
Her aim is not to punish but to make those who bond with dragons understand her sacrifice. To ensure no fae or human commits such an atrocity again.
I swallowed hard. “The boots I saw in the memories… they weren’t fae, were they?”
No, he confirmed. They were human. But they were aided and manipulated by the Blood Fae. Our treaty with the halflings exists to ensure both human and dragon remain safe.
“Then why did all the fae turn dark?”
“They didn’t. But those who opposed the Blood Throne were killed. Some say the Light Fae fled, but there is no evidence that any survived.”
The weight of his words settled in my chest, thick with a history I barely understood.
Silence stretched between us, heavy and suffocating.
“Why are you so nice to me?” I finally asked.
His golden eyes gleamed with something unreadable. You are unique. And interesting.
I let out a breathy laugh. “I wonder if you’ll still feel that way after I infiltrate the castle vault.”
His tail flicked slightly, an almost amused gesture. It is a human castle. I do not care what you steal.
I turned my head to look at him fully. “I’m not stealing. I’m looking for information. Something that might tell us who is aiding the Blood Fae.”
Red’s approval hummed through my mind like a low growl. Even better.
I hesitated, then finally reached out, brushing my fingers lightly against his scales.
The world shifted.
A rush of color, of memory—the land before Warriath had been built, before the world had been carved into territories.
Vast forests stretched endlessly, rivers glowing silver under moonlight.
The sky was filled with dragons soaring in unbroken formations, their roars filling the air like a song.
The ground was untouched, wild, pulsing with an energy I had never felt before—before war, before treaties, before everything had been burned into ruin.
And then?—
It snapped away.
I gasped, jerking back as if burned.
Red watched me carefully. You are not ready for that yet.
My breath was uneven. “Ready for what? I’m kind of flying blind here. My own dragon doesn’t exactly talk to me.”
Red let out a sound that could have been a grunt. Have you tried?
I hesitated before closing my eyes, reaching inward, searching for the newly formed link. It was like a white filament in my mind and much brighter since Kaelith spoke to me in the cave.
“Kaelith?”
A low, warning growl rumbled through my mind.
Tell that meddling dragon in your room that I will eat him the next time I see him, Kaelith snapped in my mind.
I flinched.
Red smiled, his massive teeth gleaming as he exhaled through his nose.
Isn’t she delightful?
“She wants to kill you.”
She is not the only one. It makes life interesting.
“But you are way more fun than she is,” I whispered.
Kaelith hissed in my mind, the sound sharp and full of irritation. Do you not have something to steal, thief?
Shit.