Chapter 9
Chapter
Nine
Kaelith’s wings beat once, twice, and we dropped through the clouds with a sweep of violet shadow. The Ascension Grounds came into view, riders and dragons scattered across the stone, the scent of campfire smoke and sweat thick in the morning air.
Thrall Squad stood at the edge of the grounds, heads lifting as we descended.
We landed with a low thud, Kaelith folding her wings neatly behind her. My legs ached as I slid from the saddle, boots hitting stone hard. Cordelle gave me a nod. Tae offered a slight smile. Riven lifted her brow in that way that always meant We’ll talk later.
But Naia wasn’t there.
Neither were a handful of other riders who had gone into the river.
Jax stepped forward, brow furrowed with concern. “Did you see Naia?”
I shook my head, throat still raw. “No. Sorry. She went before me. I haven’t seen her since.”
Jax’s jaw tensed as he glanced up at the sky. “Well, looks like our lowborn friends came by for a visit.”
I followed his gaze.
Three dragons descended from the far side of the mountain ridge, massive, sleek shapes, their wings sharp and sure. A green Clubtail. A brown Swordtail. A red Swift.
Luthias, Kaila, and Teren.
The Outer Kingdoms had arrived.
Major Kaler stood near the edge of the grounds, his stance immediately hardening. The moment the dragons touched down, he stepped forward, his tone clipped.
“Why are you here?”
Luthias swung down from his green Clubtail with that casual confidence he exuded, bald head gleaming, his eyes locked on the major.
“Our dragons wish to visit the horde,” he said smoothly. “We thought we’d take the opportunity to resupply while we waited.”
Major Kaler’s eyes narrowed, flicking toward the dragons, who sat with regal disinterest.
After a long pause, he stepped back. “I see. And how long do you plan to stay?”
Luthias shrugged, unbothered. “Not up to us. You’re welcome to ask them.”
Kaler didn’t respond.
He didn’t have to. The dragons’ presence was answer enough.
Teren and Kaila dismounted next, moving toward us with easy steps and wilder smiles. Teren’s mahogany hair was wind-tousled, and Kaila had at least five new knives visible on her belt.
“There’s our favorite squad,” Teren said as they approached, smirking.
“Miss us?” Kaila added, her eyes flicking to the empty space where Naia should’ve stood.
But I wasn’t smiling.
Because I couldn’t help but wonder if Naia was still fighting for air… or if the river had already claimed her.
Teren’s smile faded the moment he saw the look on my face.
“What’s wrong, Ashe?” he asked, his tone softer than usual.
I hesitated, my eyes scanning the skies once more, still no trace of Naia.
“She hasn’t come back,” I said finally. “Naia. She went into the river before me… and she still hasn’t returned.”
Teren’s expression darkened with concern. Without a word, he draped an arm around my shoulders and gently guided me away from the others. His touch was warm, grounding, like the way older siblings calmed frightened children without even trying.
“I shouldn’t say this,” he murmured, low and close, “but the major exaggerates the trial. It’s meant to scare prospects. The truth? He’ll call for a save if someone’s actually drowning. Not all who return will be bonded, but most will return.”
I stopped walking, my boots sinking into the soft edge of the field. I closed my eyes for a second, the weight of exhaustion and unspoken fears pressing into my ribs.
“Of course,” I muttered. “You can’t trust anyone around here.”
Teren didn’t argue.
But my mind was already spiraling.
Did that mean Zander had been tasked with that chore?
Was he the one meant to watch for the drowning?
No. He’d said Kaelith told Hein where to grab me. That it hadn’t been an official rescue.
So… why hadn’t Kaelith called for the major’s dragon? Why had she only acted when I’d all but drowned?
And why did it feel like her silence had been the real test?
A test I hadn’t passed.
Only survived.
Teren and I stood beneath the pale stretch of late morning sky, just beyond the main cluster of riders.
The tension in my chest had only barely loosened since the trial, but somehow, his presence helped.
There was something about his easy grin and the way he always seemed like he had a joke tucked behind his teeth that made everything feel a little less sharp.
“Are you always this serious?” he teased, nudging me with his elbow. “Or is it just a special talent when I’m around?”
I rolled my eyes. “Only when I’m fresh from almost drowning and being ghosted by my own dragon.”
Teren winced. “That’s a rough morning.”
“Yeah, you could say that.”
He grinned. “Well, I hear drowning is character-building. Builds lung capacity and trauma.”
I snorted and shook my head. “You’re the worst.”
He looked entirely too proud of himself. “You laughed.”
I glanced toward the training rings and caught sight of Zander speaking with Cade. They stood apart from the others, Zander’s arms crossed as Cade gestured through whatever quiet argument they were having. But it wasn’t Zander’s attention that crawled down my spine like a whisper.
It was Remy.
He stood with Warborn, arms folded across his chest, staring at me like I’d become his favorite war tactic to analyze. His expression unreadable, but intense. Focused.
Too focused.
Teren followed my gaze and hummed. “You’ve got an admirer.”
“He’s my ex-fiancé,” I muttered.
Teren whistled. “He let you go? What an idiot.”
A slow smile tugged at the corner of my mouth. “Just so you know… Remy can read lips.”
Teren’s eyes lit with pure mischief. “In that case…”
He shifted just enough so Remy had a perfect view, then turned his face directly toward him and whispered, “You’re a fucking idiot.”
I pressed my lips together, trying so hard not to laugh.
“You’re playing with fire,” I warned under my breath.
Teren leaned in, eyes glittering. “No, this is playing with fire.”
He kissed my cheek, slow and warm, then slid his arm around my shoulders like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“Your friend is coming.”
I blinked at him. “Naia?”
“She’s on her way back.”
My breath left me in a quiet rush of relief. I nodded, letting myself lean just slightly into Teren’s side. “How do you know?”
“I asked Lurik, to inquire.”
I let out a long breath. “I should have asked Kaelith.”
“She was part of the trial. Lurik wasn’t.”
“Thank you.”
He winked at me after I touched his arm. But he glanced toward Zander who was now watching us.
As we walked back toward the others, Teren’s arm still draped over my shoulders, his voice dropped low enough that only I could hear it, laced with something quieter than teasing now.
“Careful, Ashlyn,” he said. “You’ve got more eyes on you than most prospects ever will. And not all of them are rooting for you.”
I glanced up at him, brow furrowed. “You think someone’s going to try something?”
He shrugged one shoulder, casual as always, but I could feel the tension under the grin. “I think your ties to the court make you a target. The kind of target that’s not always shot at from outside. Sometimes, betrayal comes from within.”
My gaze slid toward Zander, who had moved a few paces from Cade and now stood with his back to us, facing the dragons. His posture was too stiff, too controlled.
“I trust him,” I said quietly. “I just… don’t always like him.”
Teren snorted. “That’s fair. Trust and like aren’t the same thing anyway.”
He glanced toward the rest of Thrall Squad—Cordelle, Tae, Ferrula, Riven, Jax—then back to me. “Just be careful. I like your squad. I’d rather not come visit and find half of you dead or locked in the dungeon for knowing too much.”
My lips curled slightly. “Too much about what?”
“That changes with the tide. The nobles can’t be trusted.”
“I will be careful.”
Teren nodded, but his expression shifted again, eyes sliding across the yard until they landed on Remy. The man hadn’t moved. Still watching. Still unreadable.
“Don’t forget that Remy’s a royal too,” Teren added. “And he’s more invested than Zander ever pretended to be.”
“Yeah,” I said, exhaling slowly as I choked on the word pretended. “But… he’s lowborn, right?”
Teren smiled, but this one didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“You know his background.”
I shook my head. “No. I don’t.”
Teren and I slowed as we reached the edge of the training grounds, the others still lost in their own conversations or tending to their dragons. But Teren didn’t let go of my shoulders, not yet. His voice dropped again, barely more than a whisper beneath the rustle of wind and dragon wings.
“You know where Remy came from, right?” he asked.
I nodded faintly. “I know he’s lowborn.”
Teren gave a dry laugh. “That’s the least interesting thing about him.”
I turned to look at him, and he lifted one brow, as if weighing whether he should say more. Then he did.
“He killed a man when he was ten. Didn’t even flinch, from what I heard. Slit his throat with a broken bottle during a trade negotiation turned ambush. Guy had five soldiers backing him. Remy took two more down before the guards finally dragged him off.”
My stomach tightened. I’d heard pieces of that story, but never the whole thing.
Teren continued, quiet and steady. “The man he killed was part of a rebel cell. The kind that trafficked slaves and children. Remy was one of those kids before he got loose.”
My chest ached.
“Major Ledor found him bleeding in the streets two days later. Took him in. Not because he pitied him, but because the crown had been watching. They saw something in him. Gave him a roof. Weapons. Training.”
“Why?” I asked, though I already knew.
Teren glanced sideways at me. “Because they had a mission in mind. And they needed someone who could lie, kill, and command without looking like royalty. Remy’s been training for that since he was ten. And the fact his mother was a royal made his presence in the castle… acceptable.”
My hand brushed the pendant at my chest. “I know what his mission was,” I said quietly.
Teren’s eyes narrowed, curious. “How?”
“Because it was to infiltrate the Order and I unknowingly helped him maintain his cover.”
He stared at me for a moment, then let out a slow breath. “He used you?”
Because that was who I was.
Always the blade in someone else’s sheath.
The pawn helping someone else keep their secrets.
Even when it broke me.