Chapter 16
Chapter
Sixteen
The knock on the barracks door came just as I was lacing up my boots. It was early with gray light filtering in through the narrow windows, and the scent of warmed ration bread drifting from someone’s satchel. Jax was in the middle of pulling on his pants, clearly not expecting visitors.
The door creaked open without a second knock.
Remy stepped inside, glancing around the room with that same pinched disapproval he wore like a second uniform. His eyes landed on Jax. “Do you always change in front of the women?”
Jax raised a brow, utterly unbothered. “Every morning.”
“Remy, stop,” I said sharply, standing. “Tae, Jax, Ferrula, Naia, and Riven always let me and Cordelle use the washroom first. Don’t you dare speak to him like that.”
He blinked, clearly surprised by the snap in my voice. His gaze flicked around the room again, eyes pausing on Ferrula as she pulled on a shirt without ceremony. He quickly looked away.
“One washroom?” he muttered. “Didn’t this used to be a supply room?”
“So I hear,” I said flatly, crossing my arms. “What do you want?”
Jax smirked behind him as he tugged his shirt over his head, clearly enjoying Remy’s discomfort.
“I’ve been instructed to bring you on a recon mission,” Remy replied, stiff. “May we discuss it outside?”
I didn’t answer. I just walked past him, grabbing my cloak from the wall hook. As I passed Naia, she leaned in and whispered, “Asshole.”
I smiled at the truth of it.
Outside, the air was crisp with morning fog curling low across the training grounds. Remy opened his mouth, but before he could get a word out, I pressed my finger firmly into his chest.
“If you ever act that way toward my squad again,” I said, low and dangerous, “I will never speak to you again. Ever.”
His eyes widened slightly, but I didn’t stop.
“They are my family, Remy. The only one I have now. When everyone else walked away or turned their back on me, they fought for me. They bled with me. They stayed.”
His jaw ticked, the muscle along it flexing hard.
Then he gave a single, short nod.
“Understood.”
I crossed my arms, still simmering from his earlier behavior, but my curiosity was already dragging me into the storm of whatever he was about to say.
“What’s the mission?”
Remy exhaled through his nose, eyes shifting to the horizon. “There’s a fae artifact. One the old Light clans used during the wars. It allows the user to listen in on the Blood Fae. Hear their whispers across the wards.”
My brows lifted. “That’s… impossible.”
“Not with the right magic,” he said. “But it takes a specific kind of power to activate it.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Let me guess. A Storm Reaper.”
He nodded once. “The artifact draws from raw, volatile currents. Your kind can channel it—if your power’s mature enough.”
“I may not be strong enough to power a fae artifact yet,” I admitted, the doubt curdling in my gut. “You’ve seen what happens when I push too hard.”
“I know,” he said. “But we have to try, Ashlyn. The raids are increasing. Command believes the Blood Fae are preparing for a full-scale assault. If we can listen in, even for a moment, it could shift the tide.”
I hesitated. “And how are we supposed to get there? The isles are surrounded by wards and patrolled skies. We’d never make it through unnoticed.”
Remy gave me a slow, almost rueful smile. “My power… is called the Wraith’s Caress.”
I huffed. “Of course it is. A power that kills. No wonder you were such a great assassin.”
His eyes sparked with something dark, and real. “I still am,” he said, the words rolling over my skin like a blade’s whisper. “But I have other talents as well.”
He stepped closer, his voice dipping into that deadly calm I remembered too well. “I can teleport. Not far. But far enough to reach one of the larger rock outcroppings surrounding the Blood Fae’s island. Close enough to use the artifact without crossing their main wards.”
My heart beat faster despite myself. “You can do that? With me and our dragons?”
“No.” His tone dropped with finality. “You’ll have to ride with me, on Katama.”
I blinked. “You want me to leave Kaelith behind?”
“Yes. She’d never be able to hide in that part of the sky. Katama and I are trained for this. We can stay low and get away quickly.”
I looked toward the horizon, toward the place no sane person wanted to go.
And still… something in me whispered—This is necessary.
“Then we do it,” I said, swallowing my fear.
Remy nodded once. “Be ready by nightfall.”
The sun blazed high as we gathered on the southern field, dust rising around our boots while heat shimmered off the stone archways beyond.
Training had started early, but by midafternoon, Major Ledor had split us from the other squads.
Major Kaler had taken Iron Fang and Warborn to the east yard, while Ledor remained behind with us.
That alone said something.
He didn’t speak much. Just paced in front of us, his crimson cloak fluttering faintly in the wind before he turned.
“Jax, you go first.”
Jax cracked his neck with a grin and motioned to Tae. “Come on, pretty boy. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
Tae rolled his eyes with a smirk, then lunged, fast and precise. His foot hit the ground once, twice, then he was on Jax, striking low.
But Jax didn’t even flinch.
A sudden pulse of energy rippled outward from him like a wave slamming into stone.
Tae flew back, skidding across the dirt, coughing once as he landed hard on his side.
He pushed himself upright, brushing grit from his palms. “You’re anchored.”
Jax reached under his shirt and pulled out his pendant. The blue scale gleamed bright, only a thin thread of gold still lacing its edges.
“I am,” he said simply.
The others murmured behind me, some impressed, others frustrated.
“When are we going to see your power in action, Tae?” Jax asked, smirking.
Tae shrugged, dusting himself off. “Maybe when it stops feeling like a death wish.”
Major Ledor stepped forward, arms crossed. “Not until every member of this squad is a full-fledged cadet.” His gaze scanned us all, landing briefly on me. “You’re not ready for what comes next until the bond is solid. Until your dragon accepts all of you.”
He motioned. “Next.”
Riven stepped forward, palms raised. The moment her eyes narrowed, flames burst to life along her forearms, dancing up toward her elbows like molten veins. She turned, thrusting both hands forward, and a jet of controlled fire erupted into the training stones, searing them black.
“Anchored,” Major Ledor confirmed with a nod.
Cordelle gave her an impressed nudge with his elbow as she returned to the line. But when Ferrula stepped forward, a blade rose in the air before her then fell to the ground. Naia followed, electricity forming around her fingertips before fizzling out.
Then there was me.
My scale pendant remained mostly purple… but not enough.
Kaelith still held back. Watching. Waiting.
The major didn’t call on me.
Not yet.
He just scanned us again, eyes narrowed. “Train harder. When you’re all anchored, we move to advanced trials.”
He clapped his hands. “It’s time for dinner. Fall out.”
A half hour later the dining hall buzzed with laughter and clinking cutlery, the low hum of exhausted riders recovering from a day of combat and power training. Our table had claimed a corner bench near the arched windows, the glow of sunset spilling gold across half-eaten plates and refilled mugs.
I leaned back, warmth in my cheeks from Riven’s latest jab about Cordelle’s obsession with historical battle tactics, and Ferrula was halfway through a story about a drunk noble who once tried to ride a donkey into the Ascension ring.
Even I laughed.
But out of the corner of my eye, I caught the unmistakable stare.
Perin.
He sat with a few others from Iron Fang, his shoulders stiff and back straight like a soldier trying not to show weakness. But his eyes were locked on me, until I turned to meet them.
Then he looked away.
Coward.
I’d told both Zander and Remy I’d seen him near the saddles before we left for Vrangoth. But that wasn’t proof. Not enough to confront him, not yet.
Riven leaned toward me, voice soft. “Remy’s watching you again.”
I didn’t even need to check. “We’ll be leaving soon,” I said with a shrug, stabbing the last bite of my biscuit with a fork. “Let him look.”
“Does Zander know?” Tae asked from beside Cordelle, his eyes flicking toward the upper tables. But Zander wasn’t with his Crownwatch peers.
I shook my head. “No idea. We didn’t talk today. I barely saw him.”
Jax motioned with his chin, wiping crumbs from his mouth. “You’re about to.”
I turned, and there he was.
Zander strode through the doors, dark cloak swaying behind him, jaw tight and eyes scanning the room like he was ready to start a war. His gaze landed on me and didn’t waver.
“Ashe,” he said, his voice low but cutting through the hall like a blade. “If you’re done, may I have a private word?”
The entire table went quiet.
I stood, dropping the half-eaten biscuit on my plate. “Sure.”
The hall buzzed behind me as I followed Zander out into the courtyard, the last rays of sunlight painting the sky in lavender and rose. The air was cooler now, tinged with the scent of dragon fire and damp stone.
We stopped beneath the colonnade.
“What is it?” I asked.
Zander turned to me, eyes dark with something more than anger.
“I just heard about your mission.”
The heavy doors creaked open behind us, and I didn’t need to turn to know who it was.
Remy.
“Don’t start on her,” he said, voice clipped with restrained fury. “This was my idea. If you read the mission report, then you know she’s the only one who can activate the artifact.”
Zander’s head turned slowly, his gaze locking onto Remy with a coldness that could’ve frozen lava.
“I did read it,” he said, his tone like sharpened steel. “She’s not anchored. She won’t be able to activate that artifact, not yet.”
“She can try,” Remy shot back, stepping closer. “And I will guarantee her safety.”