Chapter twenty eight- Buying time until graduation
The courtyard had shifted into a controlled storm of movement by the time they stepped outside.
Torches burned high along the walls, their flames bending in the cold wind, and a team of Valeborne healers worked around Erevos with grim determination.
They carried long padded poles, thick leather restraints, metal clamps, and jars of salve — tools meant for handling dangerous, injured dragons.
No magic. No glowing hands. Just experience, strength, and the willingness to risk their lives.
Erevos fought them with every breath.
The black dragon thrashed against the chains, wings pinned, muscles trembling with feral tension.
His eyes darted wildly, unfocused and burning with fractured instinct.
Every sound made him jerk violently, claws gouging deep grooves into the stone floor.
The healers braced themselves with poles, trying to keep him from slamming into the wall or twisting his neck too far.
Kael stood several paces away, posture rigid, hands clasped behind his back.
Even from this distance, Erevos reacted to him — snapping, snarling, the chains rattling sharply.
Kael didn't move closer. He knew he couldn't. The dragon who once carried his mother would tear him apart without hesitation.
Kael's father oversaw the healers, his voice low but firm as he directed them.
"Hold him steady. If he breaks that joint again, we won't be able to reset it."
One healer nodded, bracing a padded pole against Erevos' shoulder. Another approached with a long-handled brush, trying to apply salve to the raw wounds where the chains had rubbed his scales bare.
Erevos roared, the sound raw and agonized, shaking dust from the walls.
Liora flinched.
Thalen didn't.
Kael didn't even blink.
Kael's father stepped back from the healers and joined them.
"They'll do what they can," he said. "But he won't tolerate their presence for long."
Thalen nodded grimly.
"He never liked being handled."
Kael's father gave a faint, sad smile.
"He liked her."
The silence that followed was heavy, filled with memories none of them spoke aloud.
Liora watched the healers struggle to keep Erevos from injuring himself. Every time they tried to apply salve or adjust a strap, he twisted violently, teeth snapping inches from their hands. He was a creature in agony, trapped between instinct and memory, unable to understand the world around him.
And yet Kael's father still tried.
Liora didn't understand it.
She didn't understand any of this.
Kael's father turned to Thalen.
"Take care of my son."
Thalen's expression softened.
"I always do."
Kael's father nodded, trusting him without hesitation.
Kael moved toward Ashwing to prepare for departure. Liora expected Ashwing to snap at him, or at least pull away. He always did. Ashwing tolerated no one but her — not even Thalen, not even instructors.
But when Kael reached for the saddle strap, Ashwing didn't move.
He didn't hiss.
He didn't recoil.
He didn't even tense.
He simply stood there, watching Kael with a steady, assessing gaze.
Liora froze.
Ashwing had never allowed anyone else to touch him. Not once. Not ever.
Kael tightened the strap with quiet efficiency, his expression unchanged, as if he didn't realize the significance of what was happening. But Liora did. Her breath caught, her heart stumbling in her chest.
Ashwing trusted him.
Finally.
Kael stepped back, and Ashwing gave a low, soft rumble — not a warning, but something closer to acknowledgment.
Liora stared at her dragon, stunned.
Kael didn't look at her. He simply mounted his own dragon, the moment passing as quietly as it had come.
Kael's father approached him.
"You need to leave now. The Academy knows you went for the eggshell. If you're gone too long, they'll start asking questions."
Kael nodded.
"We'll return before dawn."
His father placed a hand on his shoulder.
"I'll send word if the healers make progress."
Kael's voice was low.
"Thank you."
His father's expression softened.
"Be careful."
Kael mounted his dragon without another word.
Liora climbed onto Ashwing, still shaken by what had just happened. She looked back at Erevos — thrashing, snarling, lost in his own broken mind — and then at Kael, who sat rigid and silent, carrying more weight than he ever admitted.
Ashwing lifted into the air, wings beating hard against the wind. Thalen followed, and Kael rose beside them, the fortress shrinking beneath their ascent.
Below, Erevos remained surrounded by healers, a dark, broken shape against the stone.
The moment they cleared the outer walls of Valeborne, the wind swallowed every sound.
It tore past Liora's ears in a constant roar, cold enough to sting her skin and numb her fingers.
Ashwing climbed steadily, wings slicing through the night with powerful, rhythmic strokes.
The world below shrank into jagged shadows and scattered torchlight.
Liora kept looking back.
She couldn't stop herself.
The image of Erevos thrashing against the restraints stayed burned behind her eyes — the raw pain in his movements, the wild confusion in his gaze, the way he recoiled from every touch.
She had hated him for so long, blamed him for everything she lost, but seeing him like that. .. it twisted something inside her.
Not forgiveness.
Not sympathy.
Just a hollow ache she didn't know how to name.
Kael flew ahead of her, his silhouette sharp against the moonlit sky.
His posture was rigid, his movements precise, but there was something brittle in the way he held himself — as if he were made of glass and one wrong breath might shatter him.
Thalen followed close behind, his dragon gliding with practiced ease, though even he seemed quieter than usual.
Ashwing angled closer to Kael's dragon, feathers brushing the wind. Liora felt the shift in him — a subtle pull, a new awareness. He had allowed Kael to touch him. For the first time. And now he flew nearer to him, as if acknowledging something Liora didn't yet understand.
The mountains stretched beneath them like a sea of black stone, the moonlight catching on patches of snow. The air grew colder the higher they climbed, sharp enough to bite through her cloak. Liora pressed closer to Ashwing's warm neck, trying to steady her thoughts.
The Academy knew they had left for Ashwing's eggshell.
That part was safe.
But if they were gone too long...
If anyone noticed Erevos was missing...
If anyone sensed the truth beneath the lie...
Her stomach tightened.
Kael didn't look back at her.
Not once.
But she could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his hands gripped the reins too tightly, the way his dragon's wings beat with a controlled, almost mechanical rhythm.
He was thinking about Erevos.
He was thinking about his father.
He was thinking about everything he couldn't say.
Ashwing let out a low rumble, sensing her unease. Liora stroked his feathers, still shaken by what had happened earlier. Ashwing had trusted Kael. Not tolerated — trusted. She didn't know what it meant. She didn't know what it changed. But she felt the shift, subtle and undeniable.
Clouds drifted across the moon, plunging the mountains into deeper shadow. The world felt vast and silent, the only sounds the beat of wings and the wind tearing past them.
The Academy came into view just as the first hints of dawn brushed the horizon. The towers rose out of the mist like dark spires, the training fields still empty, the courtyards quiet. Most students were asleep. Only the night guards and a few early instructors moved across the grounds.
Perfect.
No one would question their timing.
Ashwing descended smoothly, landing with a soft thud in the main courtyard. Kael and Thalen touched down seconds later. The moment Liora's boots hit the ground, the cold stone felt almost unreal beneath her feet — as if the entire night had been a fever dream.
But the eggshell strapped to Ashwing's saddle was very real.
Two examiners hurried over, both wrapped in thick cloaks against the morning chill. They looked tired, irritated, and entirely uninterested in anything beyond the task they'd been assigned.
"Eggshell retrieval?" one of them asked, already reaching for the bundle.
Kael nodded once.
The examiner took the shell carefully, expecting something ordinary — a fresh, fragile remnant from a newly hatched dragon.
But the moment he peeled back the cloth, his expression changed.
His breath caught.
His eyes widened.
His hands froze mid?movement.
The second examiner leaned in, frowning.
"What...? That can't be right."
The first examiner turned the shell over slowly, his fingers tracing the rough, brittle surface. The color was wrong — too faded, too dull. The texture was wrong — too dry, too weathered. The edges were worn, almost fossilized.
"This shell is centuries old," he whispered.
Thalen stiffened.
Liora's heart lurched.
Kael didn't move.
The second examiner shook his head in disbelief.
"No. No, that's impossible. A shell this old couldn't hatch."
He tapped the surface lightly. It made a hollow, ancient sound.
"This egg should have been like stone. It seems like it was. How did it hatched? ."
Liora felt Ashwing shift behind her, feathers rustling. She reached back to touch him, grounding herself. The examiners were too absorbed in the shell to notice.
The first examiner finally tore his gaze away, looking between the three of them.
"Where exactly did you find this?"
Kael's answer was smooth, steady, practiced.
"inside the cave as she had said"
The examiner nodded slowly, still staring at the shell as if it might crumble in his hands.
"Well... whatever the case, this is extraordinary. We'll take it to the archives immediately."
They wrapped the shell again — more carefully this time — and hurried off toward the inner halls, whispering to each other in disbelief.
Not a single question about why the group had taken so long.
Not a single suspicion.
They were too stunned by the impossibility in their hands.
Liora exhaled, tension draining from her shoulders.
Kael didn't relax.
Thalen didn't either.
Ashwing nudged Liora gently, sensing her unease. She stroked his neck, still shaken by the night, by Erevos, by the shell that should never have existed.
Kael finally turned toward them, his expression unreadable.
"We need to get to the dorms."
Thalen nodded.
Liora followed, but her thoughts stayed behind. Ashwing should never have hatched. And yet he had.
They slipped into the quieter corridors of the Academy just as the first students began to stir. The air smelled faintly of morning bread and cold stone, the familiar hum of the halls slowly waking around them.
Only when they reached the shadowed alcove near the dormitory stairs did Kael finally slow. Thalen brushed past them, muttering something about checking the dragons before anyone else did, leaving Liora and Kael alone in the dim corridor.
Kael exhaled, a long, controlled breath.
"That shell will buy us time," he said quietly. "Hopefully enough to last until graduation."
Liora frowned, still shaken from the night. She didn't need to ask for what, she knew. Time before they want experiment on Ashwing
Liora felt Ashwing's warmth still lingering on her hands, the memory of his feathers brushing her skin.
"They're not touching him," she said, voice low.
Kael finally looked at her — not cold, not distant, but tired. Bone?deep tired.
"That's why we needed the shell," he said. "It gives them something else to obsess over. Something to study instead of him."
Liora swallowed hard.
"And after that? What happens when they stop being distracted?"
Kael didn't answer.
Not immediately.
He turned away, leaning against the wall, the faint morning light catching the sharp lines of his face. For a moment, he looked older than he was — worn, burdened, carrying too much.
Liora stepped closer.
"Kael," she said softly. "What happens at graduation?"
He went still.
Completely still.
She had asked before. He had dodged before. But this time, she didn't let him look away.
"You keep saying we need to make it to graduation," she said. "Your father said it. Thalen said it. Everyone keeps talking about it like it's some kind of deadline. Why? What happens then?"
Kael's jaw clenched.
"Liora—"
"No," she cut in. "No more half?answers. No more secrets. Tell me."
Silence stretched between them, thick and heavy.
Finally, Kael spoke.
"At graduation," he said quietly, "I gain the right to challenge the king."
Liora's breath caught.
"Your uncle," she whispered.
Kael nodded once.
"He's the king. And only royal heirs can challenge him. But the law requires that the challenger must be a fully recognized Rider. That recognition only comes after graduation."
Liora felt the world tilt.
"So that's why you and your father were talking about graduation like it's a deadline."
"It is."
She stepped closer, searching his face.
"And your uncle... he doesn't know?"
Kael let out a humorless breath.
"He doesn't suspect a thing. He thinks none of us would ever dare. He thinks we're loyal. Harmless. Too young. Too obedient."
His eyes darkened.
"He thinks I'm still the boy he could control. I am the head of the experiments that he loves even though there are the reason of his sister death. I do it only to maintain my cover"
Liora's pulse quickened.
"And you're going to challenge him."
Kael didn't blink.
"I have to. It's the only way to end the experiments."
The weight of those words settled between them — heavy, dangerous, irreversible.
Liora swallowed hard.
"Why didn't you tell me sooner?"
Kael looked away, his voice dropping to a whisper.
"Because you can't tell anyone."
He stepped closer, close enough that she could see the exhaustion in his eyes, the strain in his posture, the fear he would never admit aloud.
"You have to keep this a secret," he said. "If the Academy finds out, they'll stop me. If my uncle finds out, he'll kill me before I get to challenge him."
Liora's breath hitched.
"Kael—"
"No."
His voice was quiet but sharp.
"You don't tell Mira. You don't tell Aiden. You don't tell anyone. Not until graduation."
Her heart hammered against her ribs.
"You're asking me to lie for you."
"No I am asking you to keep a secret, actually many secrets"
Liora felt the truth of it like a cold blade against her spine.
But another thought struck her — sharp, sudden, terrifying.
"What about Aiden?" she whispered. "He's a royal heir too."
Kael went still.
The kind of stillness that wasn't hesitation — it was acceptance. A truth he had already made peace with long before she asked.
"He'll have the right to challenge you," Liora said.
Kael's voice was quiet, steady, unbearably honest.
"If Aiden challenges me after I take the throne... then I'll have to fight him too."
Liora's breath caught.
"You'd fight your own cousin?"
Kael's eyes flicked to hers — sharp, unflinching, carrying a weight she had never seen him show anyone.
"This isn't about family," he said. "It's about the crown. The law doesn't care who you love or who you grew up with. A challenge is a challenge. If he issues one, I can't refuse."
Liora felt something cold settle in her chest.
"And if he wins?"
Kael didn't blink.
"Then I die."
The words were simple. Matter?of?fact. Spoken like he had already accepted them.
Liora stared at him, horror and disbelief twisting inside her.
"Kael... he's your friend."
"He's my cousin," Kael corrected softly. "And a royal heir. That comes first."
Liora shook her head, unable to process it.
"But Aiden would never—"
"You don't know that, we grow up fighting for the throne. We always knew that we were against Each other." Kael said. "You don't know what the throne does to people. What power does. What ambition does."
His voice dropped, almost a whisper.
"You don't know what my uncle has taught him."
Liora felt her stomach twist.
Aiden — bright, charming, reckless Aiden — raised under the king's influence.
Aiden, who laughed easily but hid shadows behind his eyes.
Aiden, who had always seemed too aware of Kael's every move.
She suddenly wasn't sure of anything.
Kael stepped closer, lowering his voice.
"This is why you can't tell anyone. Not about the challenge. Not about my uncle. Not about Aiden. If word spreads, everything falls apart before it even begins."
Liora swallowed hard.
"And me?" she whispered. "What happens to me in all of this?"
Kael's expression softened — not with warmth, but with something like regret.
"You stay out of it," he said. "You survive. That's all I want."
But Liora wasn't sure survival was possible anymore.
Not with secrets like this.
Not with a future built on blood.
Kael turned away, the moment closing around him like armor.
"We need to rest," he said. "Training starts soon."
He walked off down the corridor, leaving her standing alone in the dim light, heart racing, mind spinning.
Graduation wasn't a ceremony.
It was a battlefield.
And Kael was marching straight toward it.