Chapter 17 Kieran
KIERAN
Every sound of the central command base bled together around us—the echo of drills, the clash of steel, the low thunder of wings cutting across the sky on their way toward the Placement Hall.
Nearby, a squadron leader for the Angelic Army barked an order, another voice answering alongside the sharp ring of clashing swords.
I turned slightly, looking out over the ridge.
From the hill, the camp stretched below with lines of canvas shifting with every gust of wind and soldiers moving through the ordered chaos with practiced ease.
A dark shadow crossed the sky above, and my gaze caught on the wyvern for a heartbeat before I finally exhaled, slow and unsteady—the first real breath I’d taken all day.
“Princess, you’re going to think yourself to death.”
Steele’s voice broke through the fog of my thoughts, and I realized I’d been standing here far too long, staring out without really seeing anything. He climbed the ridge and crossed the distance between us, the exhaustion in his expression softening his usual composure.
None of us had truly rested in days, stealing only fragments of quiet before dawn or after the night arrived. Yet here he was, trying to look in control, finding the same narrow sliver of stillness I had, just long enough to breathe before the next meeting pulled us both back under.
The late-afternoon sun cast a burnt glow over the camp, light pooling across canvas and metal until it looked molten.
Under Steele’s direction, the new central command base had risen quickly, carved out from the forest. It sat perfectly between the Beast Tamer center—now the Rebellion’s stronghold—and the Placement Hall near Alfemir’s inner rings, where the wyvern forces had made their camp.
It was the perfect midpoint, one we knew well after spending the day flying between all three.
“I just feel… off today,” I admitted, before my voice slipped through the bond. “The air feels—”
“Heavier,” Steele finished aloud. His hand found my waist, thumb tracing slow circles through the fabric of my jacket. “I feel it too. Not sure if it’s the war closing in or that I still can’t figure out the damn rune.”
“Maybe both,” I said. “Even with how busy we’ve been, I can’t shake this restlessness.” My gaze lifted, following the faint shimmer of sunlight threading through the clouds, as if I could see the stars themselves. “I just hope it isn’t tied to the stars… not yet.”
Steele huffed, a sound somewhere between amusement and resignation. “What are the chances they let us fight one war before throwing another crisis at us?”
“A day or two ago, I might’ve said we had time,” I said, a faint grimace tugging at the corner of my mouth. “Now I’m not so sure. Something’s shifted. I can sense it.”
The unease that had lingered all day wasn’t sharp, but instead a steady, low hum coiling in my chest—instinct hitting like a punch to the gut in warning.
I’d felt it earlier through my bond with Steele, but only now, putting words to it, did I realize how perfectly it matched what was coursing through me.
I’d started to grow used to the mate bond, but it still caught me off guard—the steady, living pulse of their energy brushing against mine, even from afar.
It had unsettled me at first, too raw and invasive—a reminder of my parents—but the barriers they’d built between our minds had turned it into something I could finally breathe with, something that felt as much mine as theirs.
“Yeah.” Steele’s voice dropped lower, almost lost to the wind. “Me too.”
I leaned back against him, his arms settling around my waist, steady and warm. Below us, the camp moved with a natural rhythm, the hum of life carrying on around us. For a rare moment, I let myself be still, grateful for the quiet after such a long day.
At dawn, we led the Rebellion’s forces through Alfemir’s skies to the Beast Tamer center, ensuring every unit was settled as Ronan directed divisions to their assigned sector.
The Tamers had opened their center without hesitation, and the beasts adapted better than I’d hoped, mostly unbothered by the sudden intrusion on their territory.
In hindsight, it was a relief we hadn’t chosen the Beast Tamer center for the wyvern forces or our central command base. The Tamers’ territory would have only reminded the wyvern population how Alfemir had once viewed them as literal beasts.
By midday, we had crossed into the inner rings to oversee the wyvern landings at the Placement Hall.
Squadrons of dark wings filled the sky, and the Hall—once a symbol of instruction and judgment—became a military fortress.
Its broken skylights had been replaced with lattices of greenery shaped by the Elementalists, and the wyvern kingdom’s banners draped between them, with the open training yard below converted into barracks.
It was something to see—Alfemir filled with those who had once been pushed out. For the first time, the city didn’t feel lost; it felt reclaimed.
“I wish we had more time to work on the rune, especially before any fighting begins,” I said through the bond, turning toward him, unwilling to break the silence aloud. “Maybe after the meeting tonight.”
Steele’s brow dipped, guilt shadowing his expression. “If I’d figured it out by now, you wouldn’t even have to worry,” he said quietly. “But I’m close. I have to believe that.”
“I know,” I said gently. “And I trust you, Steele. I trust that you’ll find a way to save me.”
It was the first time I’d said it so plainly, and I saw it land—the breath leaving his chest as he reached for me. His hand slid to the back of my neck, steady and sure, before his lips found mine. The kiss was brief but fierce, grounding in a way that made everything else fall away.
I melted into it, into him, until he drew back, resting his forehead against mine. Words hovered between us, heavy and unspoken, before the moment fractured.
“I know you two are talking through the bond,” Bastian drawled, calling out from the bottom of the raised land, “but just so you know, it looks really strange when you both go silent and then start attacking each other.”
A laugh escaped me, sharp and unguarded. “Didn’t think about that.”
“Listen, I don’t mind,” he said, though the smirk tugging at his mouth gave him away. “But it did draw attention. All these soldiers probably thought the Rebellion’s fearless commander was trying to kill you with his mouth.”
Steele grunted. “You’re impossible.”
“Someone has to be,” Bastian said with a devious smile.
“Come on, you three—we’ve got a meeting to get to,” Gabe called up. He joined Bastian at the bottom of the ridge, Ronan and Niz waiting in the distance.
I arched my brow. “Already? I thought we had at least an hour.”
Gabe gave a quiet laugh. “You’ve been standing here long enough for the sun to nearly give up.”
I squinted toward the horizon, trying to find the sun through the forested trees—it hung low, its light close enough to sunset that I knew it had been at least an hour.
“And if we don’t get there first, the factions will probably start fighting,” Steele muttered.
“Exactly that,” Gabe said in agreement. “Come on.”
Steele’s hand lingered against mine as we started down the ridge to join them. The air around us still thrummed, thick and restless, as if the world itself were holding its breath.
Something was coming; we just didn’t know from where.
As we crossed the camp together, my gaze swept over the organized chaos around us. Ronan and Niz—fresh from watching a group of Alfemir and Rebellion soldiers' joint training session—fell into step with Bastian and Gabe as we made our way toward the central command tent.
The forested range stretched wide beneath the canopy, our new base tucked deep within it. Lanterns blinked to life one by one, filling the forest with the mingled scents of sweat, metal, and the faint sweetness of an early afternoon rain that still clung to the leaves.
Rows of tents lined the trees, banners and sigils marking each factions’ territory. Training fields bordered our designated camp, while the forges burned low and steady near the center, hammers hitting steel echoing through the air.
For all the noise and movement around me, a heavier stillness pressed beneath it—quiet and constant, sitting somewhere deep in my chest. I slowed, pressing a hand to my chest as my heart thudded hard against my palm, far too fast.
“Little Star, if you need to rest still—” Gabe started.
I shook my hands out, shoved them into my jacket pockets, and gave a small shake of my head. “We’ve been in motion since before the sun was up. It feels wrong to stop now.”
And it wasn’t really possible, not with the meeting ahead demanding every bit of focus I had left.
Gabe offered a nod of understanding and wrapped an arm around me, tucking me into his side as we walked. The others followed close behind, the soft squelch of damp leaves filling the space between us.
We reached a small rise overlooking the central command tent. Banners from each faction hung around the massive tent: Alfemir, the Rebellion, and the wyverns.
The air thickened as we descended, a low hum of tension rising from the tent ahead—too many people, too many fears, their voices blending into a single, restless murmur beyond the canvas wall.
Gabe met my gaze as we reached the entrance and stepped in beside me, his hand finding mine in a brief, steadying squeeze before he let go.
Time to plan what feels like the end of the world.
The main tent had become the heart of our war efforts. Inside, a long table dominated the center, maps and documents spread across its surface while faction banners rippled from where they hung above it. The six of us moved into position once through the doorway.