Chapter 29
Chapter
Twenty-Nine
T he horn blared loud and sharp, cutting through the murmurs in the courtyard. All conversation ceased, and we snapped to attention as the castle doors swung open.
King Emlem Rayne emerged, flanked by guards.
His presence swallowed the space, a commanding force that seemed to pull all eyes to him.
He was tall—taller than I expected—with jet-black hair dusted at the temples with silver.
His sharp features seemed carved from stone, and his dark eyes were even colder.
He wore sleek black leather armor embossed with the royal crest—a silver dragon coiled around a flaming sword—and a crimson sash draped over his shoulder.
Theron walked at his side, smug as ever. The absence of Dorian didn’t escape my notice. Where was he? Dorian was the heir apparent and should stand beside their father during public appearances. At least that was what I had heard. Something felt... off . I swallowed the uneasy knot in my throat.
King Rayne stepped to the podium and let his gaze sweep across the gathered riders. When his eyes passed over me, they didn’t linger, yet somehow, I still felt like I’d been singled out. As if he knew something I didn’t.
“I stand before you today,” the king’s voice boomed, deep and unwavering, “to announce the latest ascensions within the guild. Those who have proven themselves in strength, strategy, and loyalty.”
I watched as several cadets were called forward, each one stiff with pride as they received their promotion to lieutenant. The applause was scattered but respectful, tension still hanging thick in the air. Then the king’s gaze flicked toward Iron Fang.
“Lastly,” he continued, “I would like to recognize our new squad leader within Iron Fang.” His lips twitched in what almost looked like satisfaction. “Perin Cochine.”
What?
My stomach turned, cold and sharp. Of all people, Perin ? The bastard who had tried to kill me. The one who had smiled while promising I’d die. He outranked me now—worse, he had power within his squad.
I barely heard the polite applause that followed. But my focus was on the king. He swayed slightly where he stood, and for a moment, I thought I imagined it. But no—his balance wavered again, and I recognized the signs. The slight glassiness to his eyes. The flush creeping up his neck.
He’s been drinking.
Fantastic. He was probably nipping into the royal ale before the King’s Address.
My gaze moved to Perin, who winked at me while standing smug among his squadmates.
The king turned without another word and strode back toward the castle. His guards moved in close, escorting him inside. But it was Zander’s face that caught my attention—his gaze locked on his father’s retreating form, his brow creased in worry.
He’s concerned.
That wasn’t like Zander. He never showed emotion like that unless something was deeply wrong. His hand drifted to the hilt of his sword as if instinct had kicked in.
“Congratulations to those who have achieved a higher rank,” Major Ledor’s voice broke through my thoughts, pulling me back to the present. “May you continue to serve Warriath with honor.”
Then his tone shifted, hardening. “However, there’s more to address. This morning, we received word of another attack in the outer kingdoms—a village along the eastern coast was decimated.”
A murmur rippled through the squads.
My gaze flicked back to Zander—his eyes were still on the castle doors, his face set in grim lines.
Major Ledor’s voice rang sharp and clear across the courtyard. “A squad from Warborn will fly to Caston to assess the damage and lend aid. Lieutenant Saulter will head the squad.”
I swallowed hard, my gaze flicking to Remy. His face was cold—not the stoic calm of a soldier, but a mask of granite. The kind he wore when he didn’t want anyone to know what he was really thinking.
“Yes, sir,” he said flatly, as though he didn’t care.
The major listed off four other Warborn riders, all seasoned, all loyal, and they broke away from their squad, calling to their dragons. I barely noticed them, too busy watching Remy. His gaze swept the courtyard before landing on me. His fingers moved, subtle and quick.
Stay alive. There’s more going on here...
I resisted the urge to smile bitterly. I know, I signed back. Despite what you think, I’m not a complete idiot.
He paused just for a second, long enough that I thought he wouldn’t answer, then his fingers twitched again.
I never thought you were.
Katama’s massive, venomous-green form landed in the open clearing, his pale eyes flashing like gems as his claws scraped the stone.
Remy didn’t hesitate—he swung himself onto his back in one fluid motion and gave me one last unreadable look before Katama’s wings unfurled, stirring up dust as he launched into the sky.
The other dragons followed in formation, shadows rippling across the courtyard as they disappeared into the horizon.
I stood there a moment longer, trying to shake the strange tightness in my chest. Despite everything—the betrayal, the lies—I still couldn’t bring myself to hate him the way I wanted to. And if Remy thought something dangerous was brewing... I believed him.
The sun hung low in the sky, stretching long shadows across the Ascension Grounds as we stood in formation, listening to Major Ledor drone on about the Unification Treaty. His words washed over me like a distant tide. He’d been talking for so long it felt like he was stalling or wasting time.
I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, my muscles still aching from the morning’s drills. Cordelle stood beside me, absently rolling his dragon pendant between his fingers. Even Jax, who usually found ways to amuse himself, looked like he might fall asleep standing up.
“And that,” Major Ledor said finally, “is why the treaty remains paramount to the alliance between dragons and riders. Any breach is a violation punishable by exile... or death.”
Finally. I wasn’t sure if anyone else felt the same relief, but Jax shot me a grateful look when Major Ledor clapped his hands together.
“You have thirty minutes,” the major announced. “Be back here for ring challenges and weapons training.”
Our squad shifted as one, breaking formation and shuffling toward the dining hall. Riven groaned dramatically. “I don’t even care about the bread. I just want to sit down.”
“They’re serving biscuits,” Jax added, a gleam in his eye. “And apricot bread.”
“I’d kill for that bread,” Naia muttered.
Cordelle’s hand brushed my arm before I could follow. “Hey,” he murmured. “I need to talk to you.”
I glanced at the others. “We’ll catch up,” I called. “We’re gonna wash up first.”
Riven shot me a questioning look but didn’t press. One by one, our squad headed for the dining hall, leaving Cordelle and me behind.
We walked in silence back to our room. The hallway was quiet—most of the castle’s residents were still outside or heading for food. The flickering torchlight seemed dimmer than usual.
“What’s going on?” I asked once we were inside.
Cordelle closed the door behind us and exhaled. “I’ve been digging deeper,” he said, voice low. “I found more about your magic.” He pulled a leather-bound book from beneath his bunk and set it on the table.
“It hasn’t existed since before the Unification Treaty,” he said, flipping to a page marked with a scrap of cloth. “There’s isn’t much on it, but what I found... it’s bad, Ashe.”
I shifted uneasily. “How bad?”
“There are warnings about its potential dangers,” Cordelle muttered. “But nothing about the exact fae bloodline it comes from. It’s... strange.”
“Strange?” I frowned. “If it was thought lost, they probably didn’t bother recording it.”
Cordelle shook his head. “No, this feels intentional. As if someone didn’t want the truth to be known.” He traced a faded line of text with his finger. “The only thing I know for sure is that people with this power either died... or turned dark.”
My heart skipped a beat. “I’m part human, I can’t turn.”
“I know,” he admitted. “The details are vague, but the warnings are clear.” His voice softened. “I’m worried about you.”
I swallowed hard. “I’ll be fine,” I said, but the words felt hollow.
Cordelle wasn’t convinced, and neither was I.
“I’ll keep looking,” he promised. “There’s more to this. I know it.”
“Thanks,” I murmured. “I appreciate it.”
“Of course.” He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Did you get the info on the guard rotations?” I asked as Cordelle tucked his book back under his bunk.
“Yes,” he said with a sigh. “I know they switch at midnight, but I’m still trying to figure out which guards work which nights. My father didn’t know, and I don’t want to tell him what we’re up to.”
I nodded, relieved. “I agree. It’s better to take our time and gather the info than rush and make a mistake.”
Cordelle smiled faintly. “You’re good at this stuff.”
I snorted. “Misspent youth.”
His chuckle was cut short by a sharp knock at the door. We both froze. The knock wasn’t urgent—just hard.
Cordelle glanced at me, eyes wide. “Expecting anyone?”
I shook my head as I moved to the door, fingers itching toward the dagger at my waist. My hand hesitated on the handle before I opened it.
Zander stood in the doorway, his broad shoulders filling the frame. His gaze flicked past me to Cordelle, then back to me. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes—dark like a coming storm—made my pulse skip.
“Lieutenant,” I greeted, forcing my voice to stay even. Don’t think about the kiss.
“Can I have a word?” His voice was low, almost rough.
Cordelle shot me a questioning look. “I’ll meet you in the dining hall,” I said before he could ask.
“Sure,” Cordelle muttered, slinging his satchel over his shoulder and slipping past Zander. The air seemed to thicken as the door clicked shut behind him.
I took a slow breath. “What’s this about?”
Zander’s gaze swept over me, lingering a heartbeat too long. “Are you alright?”