And they’re not looking at Caleb.
They’re looking at me.
Waiting for the Dragon King to guide them.
“My Lord,” someone calls. “Should we pursue the escaped operatives or secure the perimeter first?”
“My King—the prisoners. Should they go back to Aurora?”
“Your Majesty, the Syndicate will send reinforcements. We need to establish a defensive position or—"
The questions pile up. Each one crushing me.
And Mara—
Mara is gone. Out of sight.
The bond twists. Painful now.
I could go. Could shift and take to the sky and catch her before she gets too far.
Could choose her over all of this.
But more dragons stand between me and the ridge. All of them looking at me with expectation burning in their eyes. All of them waiting for orders from a king who never wanted the crown in the first place.
One decision. Just one. Then you can go.
Except it’s never just one.
“Caleb,” I hear myself say. “Coordinate extraction of the prisoners. Medical priority.”
“Of course.”
“Dorian—air reconnaissance. I want to know if Syndicate reinforcements are coming.”
He nods. Shifts. Takes to the sky with Juno blazing beside him.
I turn, looking for the male who led the Aurora extraction team here. Find him watching with an unreadable expression. “The facility. Can your people extract intelligence before demolition?”
“We can try.”
“One hour. Then it burns whether you’re finished or not.”
More orders. More decisions.
And Mara slips further away with each word I speak.
The bond pulls. Sharp enough to steal breath.
How long has it been? Ten minutes? Fifteen?
How much time do I have before the healing unravels completely?
Go. Just go.
But there’s a fighter asking about defensive positions. Another about pursuit protocols. Someone else about what to do with Vex.
And I’m answering. Can’t seem to stop myself from answering.
