Chapter 4
LEXA
We didn't belong here.
I knew that. Every human who wasn't currently cuddled up to one of the seven-foot tall hulking monsters knew that. We were here on sufferance. Frankly, we were beyond lucky that no one had tried to enslave us or kill us. Well, no one besides Karyesth and her zealots.
Humans didn't belong in Scalvaris. On Volcaryth.
Too bad we didn't have a choice.
The corridor outside the Council chambers stretched ahead of me, all carved obsidian and flickering heat crystals that did nothing to warm the cold fury settling in my chest. The stone beneath my boots was worn smooth by centuries of Drakarn feet.
My breath came too fast, shallow pulls of air that tasted of mineral and heat.
My boots hit the stone harder than necessary, each step a punctuation mark to the litany of curses running through my head.
The Council's decision replayed in my mind, each word a fresh cut. Passive intelligence gathering. No active resources. The missing humans reduced to a footnote in Scalvaris politics, their lives deemed less important than strategic concerns and political convenience.
A pair of younger warriors rounded the corner ahead, their scales gleaming copper and green. They were deep in conversation, wings partially extended in animated gestures, until their gazes landed on me. They saw my face and immediately pressed themselves against the wall, giving me a wide berth.
Smart. I was in no mood for Drakarn bullshit today.
The mountain pressed down from above, thousands of tons of volcanic rock between me and open sky. My lungs felt tight, compressed, like the air itself was too thick to breathe properly.
I'd never been claustrophobic before, but living underground was starting to get to me.
The endless stone, the cloying air, the knowledge that I was trapped beneath a mountain with no easy way out.
My fingers twitched with the urge to feel sunlight, real sunlight, not the pale imitation that filtered down through the sky tunnels.
"Lexa, wait!" Terra called after me. I could hear her running.
I slowed but didn't stop. My jaw ached from clenching it, teeth grinding together hard enough to make my temples throb.
My hands were shaking, adrenaline from the confrontation still singing through my veins with nowhere to go.
More Drakarn lingered near the entrance to the Council chambers, their conversations dying as I passed.
Curious eyes tracked my movement. Assessing. Judging.
Let them look. Let them see a human who refused to bow and scrape and accept their decisions as law.
Terra caught up to me, slightly breathless. Her cheeks were flushed, whether from exertion or emotion I couldn't tell. Probably both. Her hand found my elbow, gentle but firm. I was tempted to jerk away, but I finally stopped moving and turned to face her.
"Not here," she said quietly, her gaze flicking to the watching Drakarn. "Let's go somewhere private."
I wanted to argue, wanted to have this out right here in front of witnesses, but the tactical part of my brain that still functioned recognized she was right.
The Drakarn were already watching us like we were some kind of spectacle.
No need to give them more ammunition, more reasons to see humans as emotional and unstable.
I jerked my chin in acknowledgment and let her guide me down a side corridor, away from prying eyes and listening ears.
The new passage was narrower, less trafficked. The heat crystals here were dimmer. The walls closed in on either side, rough-hewn stone that still bore the marks of whatever tools the Drakarn had used to carve these tunnels.
Terra waited until we were well away from the main corridor before she made a sound. Her hand dropped from my elbow, and she turned to face me fully. In the dim light, she looked tired. Lines of strain bracketed her mouth, and her shoulders carried tension I recognized all too well.
"That was hot bullshit, and you know it," I spat.
Terra grimaced. "It wasn't great, but what did you expect?"
"For these damn lizard men to keep their word! Vega saw what's happening in Ignarath, so did Zarvash. We can't just leave them there."
"They're not there," Terra pointed out. Her voice was maddeningly calm, the tone she used when she was trying to de-escalate a situation. It made me want to punch something.
"Don't. Something happened." My voice cracked on the last word, anger giving way to something rawer.
Fear. The kind that lived in my gut and whispered terrible possibilities in the dark.
Images flashed through my mind, unbidden.
Humans in chains. Humans in fighting pits.
Humans dead in some Drakarn city's gutters, their bodies left to rot because no one cared enough to even bury them.
"I'm aware of that. But this requires patience. We can't just—"
"You sound just like them." The words came out harsher than I intended, but I couldn't take them back.
Didn't want to. Terra's eyes widened, hurt flashing across her face before she could mask it.
Part of me felt guilty. The larger part was too angry to care.
My whole body felt wound too tight, muscles coiled with the need to move, to act, to do something other than stand in this mountain and wait for permission to care about my own people.
The walls pressed in. Carved stone that had stood for centuries, unmoved and unmovable. I wanted to claw at them, tear through rock until I found sky and air.
Instead, I paced. The confined space of the corridor barely accommodated the movement, but I needed it. Needed to burn off this restless energy before it consumed me from the inside out. My boots scraped against the stone, the sound too loud in the enclosed space.
Terra ignored the barb. "I'm going to talk to Darrokar. We can fix this; we'll find them."
"And when he says no? What are you going to tell Kira then?" The image of Kira's face flashed through my mind. Kira, who'd lost her sister in the crash and had been holding onto hope with both hands for months now. Kira, who trusted us, trusted Terra, trusted that someone was looking for Larissa.
How do you tell someone their sister is lost? That we gave up looking because it was too hard, too dangerous, too inconvenient?
Terra glared. "I understand why you're angry, but I don't deserve this. Just … give me some time."
Time. Always more time. Wait and see. Be patient. Trust the process. I was so sick of waiting I could taste it, bitter and acrid on the back of my tongue.
I rolled my eyes. "It's not like I have anything else to give."
I turned on my heel and stalked away before she could respond. Behind me, I heard Terra sigh, a sound of frustration and exhaustion that made guilt twist in my chest. I shoved it down.
She'd made her choice, aligned herself with the Council's decision. I didn't have to like it, and I didn't have to pretend I did. I needed to be alone. Needed to think without Terra's reasonable arguments or the weight of Drakarn eyes watching my every move.
The passages grew quieter as I moved deeper into the residential sections.
Fewer warriors, fewer prying eyes. The sounds of the city faded to a distant murmur, voices and movement echoing from somewhere far above or below.
Scalvaris was a vertical city as much as a horizontal one, levels stacked on levels, all connected by stairs and ramps and shafts that plunged into darkness.
That darkness gathered in corners, thick and heavy.
My mind churned through possibilities, scenarios, plans that formed and dissolved like smoke.
I could go to Ignarath myself. Stupid, suicidal, but at least it would be action.
I could try to convince the other humans to pressure the Council.
Unlikely to work, and it would just make me look desperate.
I could wait, like Terra suggested, and trust that Darrokar would change his mind.
That last option made my skin crawl.
Halfway to my quarters, the skin on the back of my neck prickled.
I'd spent enough time in combat zones to recognize the sensation.
Someone was watching. Following. The air shifted, a subtle change in pressure that my hindbrain registered even if I couldn't articulate what was different.
The air felt different, charged with a presence I couldn't see but could definitely feel.
My hand dropped to the knife at my belt.
The weight was familiar, comforting. The leather-wrapped hilt fit my palm perfectly, worn smooth from use.
I'd sharpened the blade just yesterday, honing the edge until it could split a hair.
I kept walking, listening for footsteps behind me, the scrape of claws on stone, the rustle of wings.
Nothing.
But the feeling persisted. A pressure between my shoulder blades, an awareness that I wasn't alone.
I stopped and tilted my head. "Who's there? I am not in the mood today." My voice echoed off the walls, bouncing back at me from multiple directions. The corridor was empty, shadows pooling in alcoves and doorways, but I knew better than to trust my eyes.
I turned and saw Nyx step out of the shadows.
He materialized like smoke given form, his gray scales blending with the darkness until he was suddenly just there.
One moment the corridor was empty, the next he occupied the space like he'd always been there, like the shadows had simply been hiding him until he chose to be seen.
Close enough that if his wings weren't held tight against his back, they'd brush my shoulders.
The sight of him hit me like a gut punch.
My stomach dropped, then swooped upward, a physical reaction I couldn't control.
Heat rushed through my body, starting low in my belly and spreading outward until my skin felt too tight.
My pulse kicked up, hammering against my ribs in a rhythm that had nothing to do with fear and everything to do with want.