And leaned back against it, letting the whirlwind of the night finally catch up to me.
I sat on my bunk, pulling off my boots.
Tae lay on his bed with his legs crossed. Naia leaned against the wall, her expression sharp despite the late hour. Ferrula and Jax sat shoulder to shoulder on his bed, the pale light flickering against their faces. Riven sitting quietly on her cot. Cordelle held a large text in his hands as he lay on his bed.
They waited.
I relayed the evening in low, clipped words, sparing no detail. The nobles who turned their backs. Lord Maeven’s warning. Dorian’s strange, submissive departure. Theron’s tightening grip around the court’s throat.
It was less informative than we had hoped. No secret alliances uncovered. No whispered plots overheard. Only the same bitter truths we already suspected, power was shifting, and not in our favor.
Tae grunted. “Not much to build on.”
“Yet,” Ferrula said, her voice as solid as stone. “Patience. A war isn’t won in a single fight.”
We turned in shortly after, and I slipped into my bunk, tugging the thin blanket over my body, Kaelith’s presence distant but humming softly at the edge of my mind like a tether stretched too thin.
I closed my eyes.
And the world shifted.
The Blood Isle rose from the mists of my mind, jagged and monstrous beneath a blood-red sky. My hands were slick, dripping crimson that wasn’t mine, staining the stones as I stumbled forward.
Kaelith was there, her great body torn and bleeding, dark smoke rising from deep gashes along her scales. Her roar shattered the sky, a sound of agony so pure it ripped through my soul like a blade.
She thrashed against unseen bonds, her wings broken, her tail lashing once before falling limp.
Kaelith!I screamed for her, reaching out as my insides burned, seared by a fire I couldn’t control.
Pain lanced through my chest, hot and endless.
She was dying?—
I was drowning in it, blood pooling at my feet, magic tearing at my bones.
Kaelith’s golden eyes met mine, full of sorrow. Full of goodbye.
I woke with a scream, the sound raw and broken, echoing off the barracks’ walls.
Chapter
Three
The scrape of spoons against porridge bowls and the low clink of mugs were the only sounds filling the dining hall.
The heavy, uneasy silence wrapped around our table like a shroud.
I stirred my food absently, the vivid images of Kaelith bleeding on the Blood Isle still burning behind my eyes. I hadn’t said much about the dream, and no one pushed. They could feel it though, how unsettled I was.
Jax poked at his bread without eating. Naia traced the rim of her cup with one finger. Ferrula sat rigid, her gaze flicking between the door and the windows as if expecting danger at any moment. Even Tae, usually too restless to sit still, stared blankly at his plate. Riven and Cordelle discussed a text he had borrowed from his father, in low voices.
Zander broke through the tension as he approached, Cade trailing close behind him. Both wore their riding leathers, crisp and battle-ready.
Zander slid onto the bench beside me without hesitation. Cade took the spot next to Jax.
“We’re headed to Kruisaan,” Zander said, setting his mug down with a dull thud. “Supply lines are failing. We’re going to check it out.”
“What happened?” Jax asked, his voice low and resolute.
