Chapter 20 Selene
TWENTY
SELENE
The war room has never been this chaotic.
Maps cover every surface—not just the central table, but the walls, the floor, scrolls piled in corners waiting to be examined.
Reports from scouts across three territories have been pouring in for days, each one worse than the last. Drayke stands at the head of the table, jaw tight, hands braced against the wood as he studies the markings Auren has made.
I’m tucked against his side, his arm around my waist even as he works. It’s become natural over the past weeks—the constant contact, the way we gravitate toward each other without thinking. The Brotherhood has stopped commenting on it. Mostly.
“Four confirmed locations.” Auren’s voice is flat, clinical, but I catch the tension beneath it. “Four Dominion Relics scattered across the territories. The one we sealed was the smallest.”
“The smallest?” My voice comes out sharper than I intend. “That thing nearly killed us. Nearly controlled every dragon in range. And you’re telling me it was the smallest?”
“The weakest, more accurately.” Auren taps one of the map markers—a location far to the east, deep in mountainous terrain. “This one, according to our sources, could control dragons across an entire continent. If awakened with enough Fire-Bringer blood.”
Drayke’s arm tightens around me. A low growl rumbles in his chest.
“So this is just the beginning.” I stare at the map, at the four red markers scattered across territories I’ve never seen, never even heard of. “Veylor wasn’t working alone. He was part of something bigger.”
“First of many battles.” Zyphon’s voice drifts from the shadows.
He’s been quieter than usual today—darker, if that’s possible.
His shadows writhe around him with unusual agitation.
“The rogues we’ve been fighting weren’t random attacks.
They were tests. Probing our defenses while the real threats gathered strength. ”
“What real threats?” Rurik leans forward, all traces of his usual humor gone. “Veylor’s forces were decimated. He barely escaped with his life.”
“Veylor was a general.” Auren pulls out another scroll, unfurling it across the table. Ancient text covers the parchment—symbols I don’t recognize, diagrams of artifacts that make my blood run cold. “Generals serve leaders. We’ve been fighting the army. We haven’t even glimpsed the commanders.”
Silence falls over the room. Heavy. Suffocating.
I lean into Drayke’s warmth, drawing strength from his steady presence. His lips brush my temple—brief, reassuring—before he addresses his brothers.
“What else do the reports say?”
Auren hesitates. That alone is enough to make my stomach clench. Auren never hesitates.
“There have been... specific threats. Targeted at individual members of the Brotherhood.”
Zyphon goes still. His shadows freeze mid-writhe, then explode outward in a violent burst that makes the torches flicker.
“Shadow creatures have been spotted in the eastern forests.” Auren’s gaze fixes on Zyphon. “Creatures that match descriptions of... your curse. They’re hunting something. Someone. Our scouts believe they’re hunting you.”
“Let them come.” Zyphon’s voice is ice and darkness. “I’ve killed my own shadows before. I can do it again.”
“It’s not just you.” Auren pulls out more reports, spreading them across the table. “Witch covens have been asking questions about the Brotherhood. About our locations. Our weaknesses. Our... vulnerabilities.”
“Vulnerabilities?” Rurik’s eyes narrow.
“Mates.” The word drops into the silence with the weight of a blade. “They’re looking for Fire-Bringers. Every coven we’ve tracked has been collecting information about bloodlines, dormant abilities, women who might carry the fire.”
“Then we find them first.” Rurik’s usual smirk is nowhere in sight. “Protect them before the enemy can capture them.”
“With what resources?” Auren’s practicality cuts through the heroic sentiment. “Our fifty dragons are spread thin across three territories. The threats we’re facing span continents. We can’t protect everyone with our current numbers.”
“Then we recruit.” I hear the words leave my mouth before I’ve fully formed the thought. “Expand the network. Train the Fire-Bringers we find. Build alliances with covens that aren’t corrupt.”
Four pairs of dragon eyes turn to me.
“She’s right.” Zyphon’s shadows have calmed slightly, curling around him with thoughtful intensity. “We’ve operated in isolation for centuries. It served us when the threats were scattered, disorganized. But if our enemies are coordinating, we need to coordinate too.”
“An alliance.” Auren’s tone is skeptical, but not dismissive. “Dragons, Fire-Bringers, potentially witches. It’s unprecedented.”
“So is having an enemy sophisticated enough to plant relics across four territories and coordinate attacks from the shadows.” I gesture at the map, at the overwhelming scope of what we’re facing. “Unprecedented threats require unprecedented responses.”
Drayke pulls me back against him, chin resting on top of my head. His warmth seeps into my back, his heartbeat steady against my spine. “Your brothers need what we have,” he murmurs, low enough that only I can hear. But he’s not talking to me.
I tilt my head back to look at him. “What?”
“The claiming.” His voice carries to the room now. “The bond between Fire-Bringer and dragon. It strengthened both of us—made our combined power enough to seal the Relic. If each of my brothers found their own mate...”
“Four claimed pairs at the head of the Brotherhood.” Rurik’s eyes light up. “Four sets of combined power leading our forces. That’s a command structure that could challenge any artifact. And with fifty dragons behind us, properly trained...”
“If we can find them.” Auren’s skepticism hasn’t faded. “Finding Fire-Bringers is one thing. Finding mates specifically matched to each of us? That’s not something that can be planned or strategized.”
“Fate has a way of arranging these things.” Zyphon’s voice is dark, almost bitter. “Whether we want it to or not.”
I wonder what that means. Wonder what shadows haunt him beyond the curse that writhes around his shoulders. But now isn’t the time to ask.
“So we have a plan.” I straighten, leaning forward to study the map with new purpose. “Find Fire-Bringers. Protect them from our enemies. Build alliances where we can. And when the time comes to face whatever’s coordinating these attacks...”
“We’ll be ready.” Drayke’s arms tighten around me. “All of us.”
The strategy session lasts for hours.
By the time we break, my head is spinning with territory names, artifact locations, potential Fire-Bringer bloodlines, and threat assessments.
Auren has assigned scouts to track the witch covens.
Zyphon has volunteered to investigate the shadow creatures himself—alone, despite Drayke’s protests.
Rurik is already planning expeditions to the known Relic sites, mapping approach routes and escape paths.
The Brotherhood is mobilizing for war. A war that might span years. Decades. Longer.
I slip away while the brothers argue over resource allocation, needing air. Needing space to process everything we’ve learned.
The fortress balcony has become my favorite escape. High enough that the wind carries away the weight of responsibility, far enough from the war room that I can pretend, for a moment, that the world isn’t falling apart around us.
Stars scatter across the sky—more than I’ve ever seen, unpolluted by city lights. The moon hangs full and heavy, casting silver light across the mountains. Beautiful. Peaceful. A lie told by the universe to make the darkness bearable.
A month ago, I was driving a dying Honda Civic up a mountain road to claim an inheritance I didn’t understand.
A month ago, my biggest worry was whether my savings would last through the winter.
A month ago, I didn’t know dragons existed, didn’t know magic ran in my blood, didn’t know that ancient artifacts required Fire-Bringer blood to wake.
A month ago, I didn’t know what it felt like to be claimed. To be loved. To be part of something bigger than myself.
The balcony door opens behind me. I don’t turn—don’t need to. The warmth that wraps around my awareness tells me exactly who’s approaching.
Drayke’s arms circle my waist from behind, pulling my back against his chest. His chin settles on top of my head, and for a long moment, we just breathe together. Watching the stars. Feeling each other’s heartbeats.
“You slipped away.”
“Needed to think.” I cover his hands with mine, lacing our fingers over my stomach. “It’s a lot to process. Four Relics. Shadow creatures. Witch covens. The entire scope of what we’re facing...”
“Terrifying?”
“Overwhelming.” I tilt my head back against his shoulder, looking up at the stars. “Not long ago, I was worried about student loans. Now I’m planning wars against ancient evils that want to drain my blood for magical artifacts. The adjustment period has been... steep.”
His laugh rumbles through both of us. “You’ve handled it better than anyone I’ve known.”
“I’ve had good teachers.” I turn in his arms, facing him. In the moonlight, his features are carved from silver and shadow—sharp jaw, full mouth, eyes that glow with banked fire. Beautiful. Dangerous. Mine. “And a very persuasive dragon who kept saving my life until I agreed to let him claim me.”
“I seem to remember you being the one who demanded I claim you.” His hands settle on my hips, thumbs tracing circles against the fabric of my shirt.
“I have a flair for drama.”
“You have a flair for giving me heart attacks.” He dips his head, pressing his forehead to mine. “Every time you put yourself in danger. Every time you suggest using yourself as bait. Every time you look at a threat and decide to face it head-on instead of running.”
“Running’s never been my style.”