Chapter 28
Kael
The interrogation room is underground. Three levels below the main facility, where stone replaces steel and the mountain’s weight presses close. No windows. No natural light. Just harsh bright bulbs that make everyone look half-dead.
Appropriate, perhaps, for what we’re about to do.
It’s the second day of interrogation, and Vex sits across the metal table, hands restrained.
The sedatives have worn off now, but his eyes hold a vacant quality—Aurora’s special cocktail of drugs and magical “truth serum.” But his shoulders are stiff, bearing rigid…
a sign of the mental blocks in place, Syndicate programming scrambling thoughts the moment we approach dangerous territory.
Viktor stands to my right. Caleb to my left. But the room holds others as well; Aurora Collective members I have only recently been introduced to.
Kieran Asguard leans against the far wall.
Late twenties, dark auburn hair, copper-gold eyes that mark him as dragon despite his gaunt frame.
Three years of Syndicate captivity left him hollow in ways that have nothing to do with weight.
He watches Vex with an intensity that makes the air feel dangerous.
Luke Kenan occupies the corner. His hand rests on Ember Arrowvane’s shoulder—a casual touch that speaks volumes about how close they are.
Ember herself sits forward, elbows on her knees, vibrating with witch-fire barely contained. She studies Vex carefully.
And beside her—Vanya. Ember’s mother. Ice-blonde hair, pale eyes. The tension between her and Luke is visible but clearly restrained. I sense depth to their situation that I don’t yet understand.
Nadia Frost stands near the door. The wolf shifter insisted on being here, citing personal interests that Viktor accepted as valid.
The room is crowded. Tense. Everyone here has been touched by the Syndicate.
Everyone here wants answers.
“Vex,” Viktor begins, “you claimed Kael would lead your restoration. Explain what that means.”
Vex’s eyes focus slowly. The mental blocks resist, but Viktor’s been working on this for hours. Wearing them down. Finding the cracks.
“The old order,” Vex says. Voice flat. Mechanical. “Dragons ruled. Humans served. Natural hierarchy. Before the… before…”
He stops. Jaw working.
“Before what?” Viktor presses.
“Before weakness,” Vex says. “Before integration. Before dragons forgot what they are.”
“And what are we?” Caleb asks quietly.
“Superior.” Vex’s eyes burn with zealot fire even through the fog. “In every way. Strength. Longevity. Power. We should rule. Command. Take what is ours by right of—”
He gasps. Shudders. Syndicate conditioning clamping down. Probably some magic along with it.
Vanya steps forward. “The magical signature just spiked,” she says, confirming my suspicions. “The failsafe they have is tied to specific concepts. Words. Ideas they can’t speak about.”
“Sovereignty,” Kieran says from the wall. “That’s the trigger. Any discussion of actual plans to seize power activates the block. I’ve seen it before.”
Everyone turns to look at him.
“In the facilities,” he continues. “They conditioned operatives. Programmed fail-safes into their minds. Information compartmentalization. If capture seemed likely, the blocks would activate. Scramble memories. Make interrogation impossible.”
“You experienced this conditioning,” I say.
His eyes meet mine. Hold for a moment. “Yes.”
“And you broke through it.”
“My sister broke through it,” he says. “Her shadow magic disrupted the lattice structure. Gave me space to remember who I was… And that I loved her.”
We’ll have no such advantage with the man in front of us, who probably loves no one.
“The Syndicate’s been refining the technique,” Vanya says. “What was done to Kieran three years ago is cruder than this. These blocks—” She gestures at Vex. “They’re more sophisticated. Adaptive.”
“Can you break them?” Viktor asks.
Nadia steps forward. “I can do it. Given time. And the right… tools.” Her eyes flash silver as she studies the male.
“But there’s another way,” Vanya interjects. “If we can identify the specific triggers, we can work around them. Ask questions that extract information without activating the failsafe.”
“How?” Caleb asks.
Ember leans forward. Light flickers at her fingertips—unconscious manifestation of her interest. “You ask about methods instead of goals. Tactics instead of strategy. How they do things rather than why.”
“Exactly,” Vanya confirms. Her hand moves to Ember’s shoulder. A subtle touch. Grounding. Mother to daughter. Ember doesn’t pull away. Just nods slightly, and the magical light flickers away.
The small exchange makes something in my chest tighten. Family. Connection. The easy intimacy of people who know each other’s tells.
I had that once. With Lyria. With advisors I trusted. With warriors who fought beside me for decades.
Then I slept for four centuries and woke to a world where everyone I knew is dust.
Viktor nods. Turns back to Vex. “Tell me about the facilities. How many operational sites does the Syndicate maintain?”
Vex’s expression clears slightly. The question is factual. Probably common knowledge. “Seventeen. Across four continents. Primary operations in Eastern Europe. Secondary sites in—”
He rattles off locations. Viktor records everything.
I watch. Listen. But my attention keeps slipping.
The bond hums in my chest. Stretched thin by distance but present. Mara is in the living quarters above. Alone. Probably processing everything that happened on the terrace.
Processing what I didn’t say.
What I couldn’t say.
I haven’t spoken to her since then, but I know it needs to be dealt with.
“Tell us more about these facilities,” Viktor presses.
“They serve multiple purposes,” Vex continues. His voice is still mechanical, but the words flow easier now that Viktor’s found the safe channels. “Research. Training. Strategic planning for—”
He stops abruptly.
“Strategic planning for what?” Viktor prompts carefully.
Vex’s breathing is labored. “Restructuring. Current… structures.”
“Government structures?” Caleb asks.
A nod. Slight. Painful.
“How?” I ask. “Governments don’t fall because you wish them to. You need infrastructure. Networks. Resources.”
His vacant eyes turn to me. “We have those. Years of… preparation. Assets in place. Financial systems. Communication networks. Key individuals in positions of—”
He gasps. Another block.
“Influence,” Kieran finishes for him. “They’ve been infiltrating human governments for decades. Placing operatives in strategic positions. Building power structures that look legitimate but answer to Syndicate control.”
“How do you know this?” Viktor asks.
“Because I saw the strategy that would support it.” Kieran’s voice is emotionless. Dead. “For three years. After they broke me. Before Iris found me. I was involved in activities that I can now see would lead to this.”
“They’re not planning a war,” Viktor says. “They’re planning a coup.”
“Multiple coups,” Kieran amends. “Coordinated. Simultaneous across major governments. Dragons revealing themselves not as myth but as the next stage of human evolution. Offering protection. Order. Solutions to problems they’ve been quietly creating for years.”
“And humanity will accept this?” Caleb’s voice is skeptical.
“Humanity will beg for it.” Vanya’s voice is cold. Clinical. “Create enough of a mess—economic collapse, infrastructure failures, threats both real and manufactured—and people will accept any authority that promises stability. Even dragon supremacists claiming divine right to rule.”
She speaks with the certainty of someone who’s seen this playbook before.
“You know their strategy,” Viktor observes.
“I’ve seen similar strategies run by the Ivory League.” Vanya’s pale eyes are unreadable. “The Syndicate isn’t innovative. They’re thorough. They take old patterns of conquest and apply them with modern technology and dragon lifespan.”
“How long?” I ask. “How long until they move?”
Vex shifts uncomfortably. The blocks are threatening to end this thread.
“Timeline,” Viktor prompts carefully. “Not the date. Just… scale. Months? Years?”
“Months,” Vex rasps. “The infrastructure is ready. Assets positioned. We only needed—”
“Me,” I finish. “You needed a figurehead. Someone with legitimacy. Historical weight.”
“Yes.” Vex’s eyes burn through the fog. “With you leading, resistance would crumble. Dragon clans would unite. Humanity would—”
He stops. Convulses.
Ember curses. “You’re pushing too hard. The conditioning will do permanent damage if you keep trying to force through.”
“Just a little more,” Viktor says. Looks at Vex. “The Dragon King. Why does his participation matter so much?”
Creed’s breathing is labored. “Because the clans are splintered. Weak. They follow Craven because he holds Seattle. Because his bloodline is old. But it’s not—”
“Not what?” I prompt.
“Not royal.” The word comes out strangled. “You are the last true king. The bloodline that united the clans. With you restored, Craven’s authority becomes… symbolic. Outdated.”
Caleb’s expression doesn’t change, but I see the tension in his shoulders.
“You’re wrong,” I say. Voice flat. Final. “Caleb’s authority is earned. Built on generations of leadership and choices that protected his people. My bloodline is history. His is present. And in this world, present matters more than past.”
Silence falls.
Vex stares at me like I’ve spoken heresy.
“You cannot mean that,” he whispers. “You are the Dragon King. You—”
“I was the Dragon King.” I lean forward. “Four hundred years ago. When the world was different. When might determined right and power meant authority. That age is dead. I will not resurrect it.”
“But you must.” Vex’s voice cracks. Desperate now. “The Syndicate needs you. The plan requires—”
“Then the plan fails.” I settle back. “I am not the king you remember. I am not the leader you need. And I will not help you conquer the world.”
“You’re lying.” Vex’s voice rises. Panic bleeding through. “You must be. Everything we’ve prepared. Everything we’ve built. It requires the Dragon King. It requires you to—”
The air around him crackles. He screams as the forces controlling his speech clamp down.
Vanya’s at his side immediately. “He’s fighting it. Breaking through the conditioning from the inside.”
“Should we stop him?” Ember asks.
“No.” Kieran’s voice is quiet. “Sometimes the only way out is through.”
We wait. Watch Vex struggle against the magic scrambling his thoughts. His body jerks. Hands claw at the restraints.
Then he goes still.
“Vex?” Viktor leans forward. “Can you hear me?”
Nothing.
Nadia checks his pulse. “He’s alive. Unconscious. The conditioning knocked him out rather than let him break through completely.”
“We’re done for today,” Viktor says. “Get him to medical. Keep him sedated. We’ll try again tomorrow.”
Guards move in. Begin the process of transferring the prisoners.
The room empties slowly. Kieran leaves first, seemingly lost in thought as Nadia brushes past him. Luke guides Ember toward the door, Vanya trailing behind.
She pauses in the doorway. Looks back at me.
“You meant what you said.” Not a question.
“Yes.”
“Good.” She nods once. “The Syndicate’s plans only work with you complicit. Without the Dragon King, they’re just another terrorist organization. Dangerous, but manageable.”
Then she’s gone.
Caleb remains. Viktor too. Both watching me with expressions I can’t quite read.
“You rejected them,” Caleb says finally. “Publicly. Definitively.”
“I rejected what they represent. What they want me to be.”
“And what do you want to be?”
Good question.
I don’t have a good answer.
“Not their king,” I say. “Not their weapon. Just—”
The sensation hits like a blade between my ribs.
Not pain. Worse than pain.
The bond lurches. Twists. Like someone’s cutting it with a serrated knife.
I’m on my feet before I realize I’m moving. The chair clatters backward.
“Kael?” Caleb’s voice. Distant. Concerned.
But I’m already heading for the door.
“My Lord, what—?”
I don’t answer. Can’t answer.
The bond is breaking.
Not slowly. Not gently. Someone is unraveling it strand by strand, and every severed connection tears something vital from my chest.
Mara.
I burst through the door. Take the stairs three at a time. Emergency protocols demand I stay for the debriefing, but the bond overrides everything else.
Three floors. Too many. Too far.
She’s on the residential level. Room 3-14. Right next to mine.
The bond frays with each step. Unraveling faster now. By the time I reach the third floor, it feels like someone’s set fire to the inside of my chest.
I round the corner at a run.
The door to 3-14 is open.
Light spills into the hallway.
And inside—
I see them.
Three figures. Magic glowing between them like silver fire.
I’m too late.