Chapter 14
CHAPTER
FOURTEEN
The corridor outside the medical room feels narrower than it did minutes ago, as though the walls themselves have leaned in to listen.
Weapons change hands in quiet exchanges, metal catching the bioluminescent glow that pulses faintly through the stone.
Voices are low, purposeful, stripped of anything unnecessary.
Even the air feels heavier, thick with that particular kind of tension that comes when something has already gone wrong and everyone is waiting to see just how much worse it’s about to get.
Sonny moves beside me, grabbing a short blade from a rack bolted into the wall and tossing it my way without breaking stride. “Try not to drop that on your foot,” he mutters.
I catch it easily, testing the weight out of habit. “You almost wound me.”
“Give it time,” he shoots back. “Plenty of opportunities today.”
Fair.
The bond tugs, subtle but insistent, drawing my awareness back towards Varek even as I force myself to stay focused on what’s directly in front of me.
He’s still in the medical room, anchored to the centre of whatever storm Aelith’s arrival has dragged in behind it, and every instinct I’ve got wants to stay there. Stay close. Stay within reach.
Instead, I turn with Sonny and head deeper into the settlement.
Movement ripples through Dathanor as we pass, fighters shifting position, sentries doubling up at choke points, runners slipping through side passages with messages. No one is panicking, but no one is relaxed either. This is what preparedness looks like when it’s been earned the hard way.
We reach the inner corridor just as voices rise ahead.
Jamie’s.
“I said I’m fine!”
The words bounce off the stone with enough force to carry.
When we round the corner, the scene comes into focus quickly—Jack standing squarely in front of his nephew, arms crossed, jaw firm.
Caly just off to one side, close enough to intervene, far enough to not crowd him.
A couple of others linger nearby with the uncomfortable look of people caught in the blast radius of someone else’s argument.
Jamie looks like he’s about three seconds away from bolting.
“You’re not fine,” Jack says, his voice controlled but stretched thin at the edges. “You’re a target.”
“I’m always a target,” Jamie shoots back. “That’s kind of the whole thing here, yeah?”
“That’s not the same, and you know it.”
“I know you’re treating me like I’m made of glass.”
“I’m treating you like someone who matters.”
“I already knew that!”
The frustration in his voice cracks just enough on the last word to give away what’s sitting under it. Fear, maybe. Or anger at being afraid.
Caly shifts slightly, drawing Jamie’s attention without interrupting outright.
“You’re being relocated,” he says, his tone measured, deliberately light, as though this is nothing more than a change of rooms and not a reaction to a queen with a habit of breaking people.
“That’s not the same as being confined.”
Jamie turns on him immediately. “It feels like it is.”
“That doesn’t make it accurate,” Caly replies, and there’s the faintest curve to his mouth that takes some of the sting out of the words, softening the edges without dulling the point.
Tension hums beneath the exchange, and it takes me a second to realise why. It isn’t just Jamie pushing back against being hidden. It isn’t just Jack bracing like he’s about to physically block the entire world from reaching his nephew.
It’s everything that just walked into this settlement bleeding.
Aelith.
He’s unpredictable and desperate. He’s also smart enough to be dangerous and scared enough to make that danger worse.
I step in before Jack says something he might regret. “Hey.”
Jamie’s head snaps towards me, his expression sharpening as he takes me in. “You’re up.”
“Apparently,” I say, but my attention flicks briefly to Jack, then to Caly, and then back to Jamie, weighing how much to say and how blunt to be about it.
Because this isn’t just about keeping him out of sight.
“Listen,” I add, lowering my voice just slightly enough that it keeps the conversation between us without completely shutting the others out. “This isn’t just about you being a target out there.”
Jamie frowns. “What does that mean?”
It means we’ve got a prince in the next room who might tear the world apart to get his mate back.
It means fear makes people do stupid, unforgivable things.
It means not everyone here is built the same way.
I exhale slowly, choosing my words carefully. “Aelith’s a wildcard,” I say. “He’s not thinking straight. Not fully.”
Jamie’s frown deepens. “He wouldn’t—”
“I’m not saying he would hand you over,” I cut in, because that’s not exactly the truth and not exactly a lie either. “I’m saying he’s desperate. And desperate people don’t always see the full picture. They see the one thing they can fix.”
Caly watches me closely now, that keen intelligence of his locking in.
“And it’s not just him,” I continue. “This place? It’s solid. People are loyal. But not everyone here is the same kind of strong when it comes down to it. If things go bad—really bad—and it’s a choice between their life and yours….” I let the sentence hang.
Jamie goes very still, and Jack swears under his breath.
“That won’t happen,” Jamie says immediately, but there’s an edge to it now. Not certainty. Determination. The kind that knows exactly what it’s up against.
“Maybe not,” I say. “But we don’t take chances like that if we don’t have to.”
Caly tilts his head slightly, considering. “You’re suggesting proximity increases risk,” he says.
“Yeah,” I reply. “If Aelith was followed, or even if he wasn’t but the queen’s close to figuring out where he came from, then the outer sections are the first place they’ll hit. Entry points. Weak spots. Places where pressure can be applied.”
“And where people can be made to choose,” Caly adds quietly.
“Exactly.”
Jamie’s eyes narrow, and for a second, he looks older than he has since I met him—far too aware in a way kids shouldn’t have to be.
“So you’re hiding me deeper because you don’t trust everyone,” he says.
I meet his gaze. “I’m saying I trust enough people to know we don’t gamble with you.”
Silence hangs for a beat. Then Jamie exhales, slow and controlled, like he’s forcing himself to accept something he doesn’t want to.
“Right,” he mutters. “Cool. Love that for me.”
“Yeah,” Sonny mutters from behind me. “Not exactly a highlight.”
Caly steps in again, smoothly redirecting the tension before it can spike back up. “You will assist me with reorganising the inner storage,” he says to Jamie, as if that has been the plan all along. “If we are relocating, we require efficiency.”
Jamie shoots him a look. “You’re doing that thing again.”
“What thing?”
“The ‘I’m distracting you so you don’t freak out’ thing.”
Caly pauses, then inclines his head slightly. “It’s effective.”
Jamie huffs, but there’s less bite in it now. “You’re unbelievable.”
“And yet,” Caly replies lightly, “still correct.”
Jack watches the exchange, his shoulders sagging a little, though his eyes stay clear and alert. He looks at me for a second, something like gratitude flickering there before it’s gone again. “Let’s move,” he says.
No one argues this time. Because now they all understand that this isn’t just about keeping Jamie safe from the queen. It’s about keeping him safe from everything desperation might turn this place into if things go bad enough.
We move as a group, slipping into a narrower passage that winds deeper into Dathanor. The light shifts here, dims, the glow-veins in the stone thinner and more intermittent. Sound carries differently, too, dampened by the smaller space.
Halfway down the cave corridor, Jamie slows just enough to fall into step beside me.
“They’re not going to send me out there, are they?” he asks quietly.
The question weighs heavier than it should for how softly it’s spoken.
“No,” I say, just as quiet.
“Even if it means Dawson stays there?”
I don’t answer immediately because there isn’t a clean answer to give. Because the truth is complicated and ugly and tied up in a dozen other lives that aren’t his to carry.
Jamie glances at me, reading the hesitation anyway. “Right,” he says.
“Hey,” I add, stopping him before he can spiral too far down that line of thought. “Being important doesn’t mean you owe anyone your life. Not her. Not us. Not anyone.”
He looks at me properly then, something searching and intent in his expression. “Feels like I do.”
“Yeah,” I say. “I get that.”
Because I do.
Because I know what it feels like to be the thing someone else thinks they can use.
We reach the inner chamber and leave Jamie and Caly there, Jack lingering a moment longer than necessary before turning away.
Sonny jerks his head towards the outer corridor. “Come on. Let’s see what the big scary boss man is planning.”
I don’t argue. Because whatever comes next, I want to hear it from Varek directly.
By the time we make it back to the bowling alley, the initial chaos has settled into something more focused.
Maps are spread across a long table that looks like it’s been dragged in from somewhere else and repurposed about ten times over.
Markers—stones, bits of metal, whatever’s at hand—are already placed along key routes, marking entry points, choke zones, fallback positions.
Shanae stands over it with a handful of others, issuing instructions in low, precise tones.
Varek is standing slightly apart from the table, arms folded, head tilted just enough that he’s taking in everything at once. The moment I step into the room, his attention shifts—not fully, not enough to disrupt whatever calculations are running through his head—but enough that I feel it.
A check.
A confirmation.
You’re here.
I am.
The bond aligns, not quiet exactly, but… steady.