Chapter 32 #3
Zander’s gaze flicked toward Kaelith, who lay near the tree line, licking her talons clean. “What if he doesn’t want Kaelith?” he said slowly. “What if he wants you ?”
“That doesn’t make sense,” I countered. “Why would the Blood King want a half-trained rider?”
“Because you’re not just a rider,” Cordelle said quietly. “You’re powerful, Ashe. We don’t even know what your magic is fully capable of yet. If the Blood King found a way to control you…”
I didn’t like where this was going. “Kaelith would kill me before I ever fell under his control.”
“That’s what worries me most,” Zander muttered. “If he’s sending assassins after you, it means he knows something we don’t. He’s either trying to take you... or kill you before you can stop whatever he’s planning.”
Silence stretched between us, thick and grim.
“Then we better figure it out,” I said firmly. “Because I don’t plan on dying—and I sure as hell won’t let him use me.”
Cordelle cleared his throat, the sound awkward and strained. He shifted in place, clearly uncomfortable, his gaze flicking from me to Zander and back again.
“What is it, Cordy?” I asked, my stomach tightening. Whatever it was, I knew I wasn’t going to like it.
He glanced warily at Zander again, as if debating whether to speak in front of him.
“You know that report... the one the royals received from Remand? The one about you being a... um…” His voice trailed off.
My cheeks heated, and I crossed my arms tightly across my chest. “Yeah,” I muttered. “I know the one.”
Cordelle swallowed hard. “Well... my father found the original report.”
I stiffened. “The original?”
He nodded grimly. “It didn’t say that. About... you being a virgin. That part wasn’t in there at all.”
I stared at him, trying to process what he was saying. “Wait... if it wasn’t in the original, then someone added it?” My mind raced. “Why would someone do that?”
Cordelle’s face paled a little. “I don’t know. But that’s not the only thing. The latest report had a lot more information than what Remand gave the king. Details about you... about the Order. Things that weren’t in the original version.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Like what?”
Cordelle shifted again, clearly uncomfortable. “Like... your healing ability. Lieutenant Saulter never reported that.”
My breath caught. “But... Remy knew. He saw me heal after a training session.” My mind spun as the pieces began to fall into place. “He knew, but he didn’t put it in the report?”
“Looks that way,” Cordelle confirmed quietly.
“Why would he cover for me?” I whispered. It didn’t make sense. Remy had betrayed me, lied to me—but hiding my healing ability? That wasn’t something someone like him overlooked by accident.
“Maybe he thought he was protecting you,” Zander said softly. I turned to find him watching me, his face carefully unreadable. “Or maybe he knew this would put you in danger.”
“Or maybe he was just saving it for leverage,” I countered bitterly. “He’s good at playing the long game.”
Cordelle closed the book he’d been holding, looking uncertain. “Whatever his reasons... it’s clear someone tampered with that report. And whoever did it, knew exactly what they were doing.”
My pulse quickened. “They wanted the court to see me as vulnerable,” I said slowly. “Weak. Like I needed protection. That’s the only reason to add that detail.”
“And they wanted to keep your magic a secret,” Zander added. “That’s dangerous information. Someone wanted you underestimated.”
I felt sick—the kind of sickness that settles in your bones, twisting like a coil ready to snap. Every aspect of my life had been manipulated, orchestrated by unseen hands. My father. The Order. The king. Even Remy. Nothing had ever really been mine. Not my choices, not my power, not even my past.
I stood there, staring at the ground as my stomach churned.
“You, okay?” Zander’s voice was low and softer than I expected.
“No,” I admitted, my voice a whisper.
“Come on,” he said, resting a hand on my shoulder. “Let’s go for a walk.”
We didn’t speak as we left the camp. The air was cool, the scent of pine lingering as we moved deeper into the trees. The glow of the fire still flickered in the distance, faint but steady. It was enough to keep me grounded.
Zander stopped by a fallen log and motioned for me to sit. I didn’t hesitate, sinking down as if the weight of the world had finally pressed me low enough to break. He didn’t sit right away, just stood with his arms crossed over his chest, staring out into the shadows.
Zander sat beside me, elbows on his knees. “I know how you feel.”
I scoffed bitterly. “I doubt that.”
“You think being a prince makes life easier?” He shook his head, staring at the dirt between his boots. “It’s not what people imagine. Every step... every breath is planned. I was told when to train, what to learn, even who my friends should be. Everything decided for me.”
“That sounds...” I trailed off, unsure of what word to even use. Pathetic? Stifling? Horrible? All of the above.
“It’s exhausting,” he said. “People think the royals live in comfort—and sure, the clothes are finer, the food’s better, but there’s a cost.” His voice grew tighter.
“I wasn’t allowed to leave the castle without guards shadowing me.
They reported everything I said or did to my father.
Everything. I couldn’t even eat breakfast without someone taking notes. ”
“That’s insane.”
He gave a dry laugh. “I’d give anything to spend a day unnoticed.” He paused, voice quieter now. “The only time I was free... was with Hein.”
I turned my head, watching him closely. “Your dragon?”
He nodded. “Hein doesn’t care about politics, or titles.
He’s just... Hein. No expectations. No manipulation.
” He exhaled and finally looked at me. “That’s why I get it, Ashe.
What you’re feeling right now—that helplessness?
That feeling like your whole life has been planned without you knowing?
” His eyes softened. “I know what that’s like. ”
The sincerity in his voice hit me harder than I expected. Zander Rayne—prince, soldier, rider—understood what it felt like to be a pawn.
I swallowed hard, blinking against the tightness in my chest. “I just... I don’t know how to fix it,” I whispered. “Everywhere I turn, someone’s pulling the strings.”
“You’re not alone.” His hand brushed mine, fingers curling around mine. Warm, reliable, certain. “Not anymore.”
I knew I should pull away, but I didn’t. Instead, I let my hand stay in his, clinging to the first solid thing I’d felt in days. The first thing that didn’t feel like a lie.