Chapter 35
Chapter
Thirty-Five
W e worked quickly to clean up the camp, kicking dirt over the fire and packing our gear with efficiency. Jax muttered something about missing his bed, and Riven elbowed him in the ribs, grinning. The easy banter was a comfort, something solid after the chaos of the last few days.
Kaelith stood still as I flung the leather lasso around her neck, her scales cold beneath my fingers. You’re being suspiciously cooperative, I said in my mind.
You would know if I wasn’t, she quipped, her wings flicking just enough to send a gust of wind into my face.
I tied the rope off and swung onto her back. Within seconds, our squad was in the air, soaring back to the Ascension Grounds.
The compound was quiet when we landed. The air felt heavier than usual, like a storm just waiting to break. I slid down Kaelith’s side, releasing her with a quick tug of the rope before coiling it and stowing it in my pack.
A court courier jogged toward Zander as he dismounted, whispering in his ear as soon as he moved away from Hein.
“Squad, gather up,” Zander called out to us as soon as the courier left.
We grouped together just past the dragons, forming a loose circle. Zander’s face was hard, grim in a way that made my stomach tighten.
“I’ve been informed that the Order is looking for Ashe,” he said flatly. “But there is not a kill order on her.”
Riven’s hand curled into a fist. “Yet.”
“Still,” Zander continued, “she needs to be with one of us at all times. I don’t care if you’re on the mats, in the dining hall, or just walking to the washroom. One of you is glued to her side.”
“I agree,” Jax added. “No offense, Ashe, but your father’s got a nasty reputation, and I’d rather not give him a chance to get his hands on you.”
I swallowed hard. Their concern should have made me feel safe. Instead, all I could think about was the mess I’d been dragged into. My father’s threats. The Blood Fae’s cryptic warnings. And the knowledge that someone had manipulated Remy’s report to twist my past into something dangerous.
I nodded along with their plans for safety protocols, fully aware that I planned to break them. There were too many questions—and too few answers—to sit back and hide. Whatever it took, I was going to find out the truth.
Even if I had to do it alone. And it all started with the prisoner in the castle.
Zander turned as Major Ledor ordered the squads to assemble.
The day was brutal.
Training in the ring started immediately, and Zander pushed us harder than usual—sparring drills, grappling, takedown sequences—until my arms shook from fatigue.
Every strike I made felt sluggish, my body weak with exhaustion.
When Major Ledor finally called us to assemble in the courtyard for an hour- long lecture about protocol, I struggled to keep my eyes open.
The entire squad looked like they were one breath away from face-planting into the dirt.
Weapons training followed, testing what little strength we had left. My muscles screamed every time I lifted my rapier. Jax even slipped during a lesson, landing flat on his back, and none of us had the energy to laugh at him.
By the time we returned to our room after dinner, we were too drained for conversation. One by one, we took turns washing up, moving like the walking dead as we crawled into our bunks. I fell asleep before I could even pull the blankets over my shoulders.
But I had learned a long time ago how to set an internal clock—and when I woke just past midnight, I knew I wouldn’t be going back to sleep.
I slid out of bed quietly, moving carefully to avoid the creak in the floorboard by the window. My boots were laced, and my jacket was over my shoulders before I paused long enough to listen. Cordelle snored softly, Jax muttered something in his sleep, and the rest of the room was still.
I slipped out the side door and closed it behind me, breathing slowly until I was out in the courtyard.
The cold stone pressed against my fingertips as I traced the familiar path through the castle’s outer corridors.
Each step was slow, calculated. The air was sharp with the scent of wood and lingering smoke from the castle hearths.
No guards—not in the hallways at least. I hadn’t expected any.
The inner castle was rarely patrolled this late; they trusted the watchtowers and fortified gates to keep intruders out.
Too bad for them, I thought grimly.
The hallway narrowed, ending in a curve that hid the entrance to the hidden passageway. I reached out, gripping the cool metal of a wall-mounted sconce with an illumination crystal embedded in its iron frame. My fingers hovered over it just before I froze.
A whisper of movement behind me.
I spun just as something hard slammed into my shoulder. The force sent me crashing into the wall, the impact rattling my bones. I twisted, just ducking the next strike as a shadow lunged at me.
My attacker wore black from head to toe—face masked, body armored in fitted leather. His blade glinted in the dim light as it swept toward me again. I barely had time to jerk back, feeling the sting of cold metal as it grazed my arm.
Instinct kicked in, and I drove my elbow into his ribs. The grunt that followed was low and angry, but the moment of hesitation was enough—I grabbed my dagger from my belt and slashed upward.
He twisted away just in time, the blade slicing through the fabric of his hood. For a brief second, I glimpsed a face—familiar eyes, sharp and cold. I knew those eyes.
I didn’t get a chance to place them before he struck again, forcing me to retreat a step closer to the secret door.
The cold blade hissed through the air again, slicing close enough that I felt the wind against my cheek. I twisted, dodging just in time, my boots scuffing against the stone floor as I stumbled back.
My attacker was relentless—a figure cloaked in black, face hidden beneath a hood. His blade danced like a serpent, striking fast and fluid. I parried, twisting my wrist to drive his weapon wide, but my counterstrike missed by inches.
“You’re persistent,” I growled, shifting my stance.
The man chuckled darkly. “You have information I want.”
His blade shot forward again, and I stepped inside his strike, slashing my dagger across his forearm. The fabric tore—and so did his skin. Blood welled, glistening crimson in the dim corridor light.
That was when I saw it—the tattoo.
A sword wreathed in snakes—the mark of the Order of the Blade.
My father wouldn’t have paid for a killer from an outer kingdom, I thought, stomach twisting. This wasn’t his doing... but someone powerful had sent him.
I didn’t have time to process the thought before his knee slammed into my ribs. I staggered, gasping for breath as he brought his blade down again. Metal screeched against metal as I blocked it, but my arm shook violently from the force. My strength was waning—I wasn’t fast enough.
He twisted, feinting left, and the sharp bite of steel tore across my forearm. Fire flared in my veins, and I staggered back, clutching my bleeding arm.
“Don’t worry,” the assassin sneered. “It won’t take long. Then we will have some fun.”
A wave of dizziness struck me—far too fast for blood loss alone. My vision swam, and my legs faltered.
Poison.
I blinked hard, forcing my mind to focus, but my limbs felt sluggish. The assassin’s blade rose again, and I knew I couldn’t move fast enough to stop it.
Then suddenly—the hidden door burst open.
Zander stormed through, his eyes dark and flashing with Dark Fire. His blade sang as he drew it, intercepting the assassin’s strike with brutal precision. Steel clashed, sparks flying, and the force of Zander’s counterstrike sent the assassin stumbling back.
“You are dead,” Zander hissed at the assassin as Dark Fire erupted on his palms.
I barely registered the words—my body felt too heavy, like my blood had turned to syrup. My vision narrowed to a tunnel, and I forced myself to focus on my attacker.
The assassin cursed and then sprinted down the corridor. Zander didn’t give chase—instead, he turned back to me, dropping to his knees.
“Ashe?” His voice was sharp with worry.
“Poison,” I mumbled, the word escaping my lips.
Zander swore under his breath. His arm looped around me, holding me upright as my body sagged.
“You’re going to be fine,” he said, but his voice held an edge of panic. “Stay with me.”
I fought to stay conscious, but my limbs refused to obey, and the world began to blur. The last thing I remembered was the warmth of Zander’s hand gripping mine tightly and the fierce determination in his voice.
“You are not dying tonight, Ashe.”
“How did you know I was… in trouble?” I whispered.
“Kaelith sensed you were in danger. She alerted Hein.”
Zander carried me to his bedroom. As soon as he laid me down, I felt the fire in my blood. I needed him. I pulled his lips to mine, and his tongue swirled over them. But a few seconds later, he stumbled back.
The fire crawling under my skin intensified, spreading like molten lava through my veins. Every breath I took felt too shallow, too hot. My clothes stuck to me, damp with sweat. My muscles trembled with a restless energy I couldn’t control.
Zander paced the room, running a hand down his face. “Shit… shit,” he said, as if saying it enough times would change the situation.
“What does that mean?” My voice came out breathless, desperate. I shifted on the bed, my fingers curling into the sheets like I could somehow ground myself if I held on tightly enough.
“It means,” Zander said through gritted teeth, “that bastard poisoned you with Lucorin.”
I blinked hard, trying to focus past the burning ache. “Lucorin? What is that?”
He stopped pacing and faced me, his eyes swirling with Dark Fire.
“It’s a dragon mating hormone. It’s illegal as hell—dangerous stuff, rare to get hold of.
” His jaw clenched. “It’s extracted from mated dragons during their cycles—meant to trigger an uncontrollable bond response.
It’s potent… almost impossible to resist.”
My stomach twisted. “So, it’s… what? A lust poison?”
“No,” Zander said sharply. “Not for humans, anyway. For dragons, it’s meant to trigger their instinct to claim a mate—a bonding instinct. But for anyone with fae blood?” His eyes locked on mine, a shadow of dread settling behind the fire. “It drives them into a… sexual frenzy.”
I swallowed hard. My throat felt dry as sand. “And if I don’t…?”
“It’s going to get worse,” Zander said quietly. “Your body’s burning itself up trying to purge it. If you don’t…” He stopped, his face darkening. “If you don’t find relief, it’ll hurt like hell for days, or it will kill you.”
The heat in my blood spiked, and I gasped, arching my back against the mattress. My vision blurred as sweat rolled down my temple.
I reached for him—not because I wanted to, but because the fire inside me demanded it.
My fingers tangled in the fabric of his shirt, and I yanked him down to me.
His lips crushed against mine, and for a moment, I felt like I could breathe again.
His mouth was fire and ice, his tongue tracing the seam of my lips.
I opened for him, desperate for the cooling sensation of his kiss.
But then he jerked back, stumbling away like I’d burned him.
“Shit,” he swore again, wiping his mouth like he could scrub the feeling away.
“What?” I rasped. “Why did you stop?”
Zander’s eyes flickered, torn between guilt and need. “Because when you kissed me… you infected me .”
I stared at him, horrified. “What?”
“The poison is transferable.” His voice dropped to a strained whisper. “You passed it to me.”
I barely heard him over the fire thrumming through my veins. “So, what happens now?”
“We have two options,” he said grimly. “We find a healer who knows how to neutralize Lucorin—which won’t be easy. Or…”
“Or what?” I demanded.
He took a step back, his fingers curling tightly into fists like he was trying to physically restrain himself.
“Or we give in to it,” he said quietly. “And burn it out the old-fashioned way.”
I swallowed hard, feeling my pulse hammer against my ribs. Every instinct screamed at me to grab him, to pull him back to me, and let that fire consume us both.
“And if we don’t?” I whispered.
Zander’s face was grim. “If we fight it…” His gaze locked with mine, dark and intense. “It’s going to hurt like hell.”
I forced myself to nod, even as my skin burned like I was standing in dragon fire.