He shook his head. “It’s fine. I’ll heal.”
I didn’t believe him. But I didn’t argue.
He stood, slow but composed, glancing once more at the carnage.
“Get your squad back to Warriath,” he said, voice low. “There will be more of this. And soon.”
Then he lifted two fingers to his mouth and whistled.
Within moments, a massive shadow swept down from the clouds—his dragon, Foran, sleek and silent with striking blue wings.
Dorian climbed onto the saddle without another word and took off, vanishing into the sky like a ghost bound by duty.
And just like that, we were alone again—breathing in the smoke, the silence, and the memory of the red sickle burned into the dirt.
Chapter
Thirty-Four
The wind stung my cheeks as we flew, the sky darkening with the coming dusk. Kaelith didn’t speak, not a flicker of acknowledgment across our bond. But I’d stopped expecting it.
I was getting used to being her personal plague.
She didn’t throw me off her back, didn’t resist my touch—but she didn’t welcome it either. We were bound, tethered by fate or blood or prophecy, but there was no warmth in it. Not yet.
Still, I felt… stable.
Whatever chaos had lived in my veins during the trials was quiet now. My magic no longer surged wild or reckless. It was still mine. Still waiting. But for now, it obeyed.
We touched down on the Ascension Grounds, the stone echoing beneath Kaelith’s claws. The moment my boots hit the ground, she launched into the air again without a word, her wings blotting out the setting sun as she disappeared beyond the cliffs.
I didn’t watch her go.
Instead, I turned to Kass, who had landed more carefully, cradling Cordelle’s injured body between his shoulders. I rushed forward, reaching up to help him down.
Cordelle’s face was pale, teeth gritted, his shoulder stiff and wrapped in a blood-soaked bandage. He didn’t complain, just leaned against me as I wrapped his arm around my shoulders.
“Come on,” I murmured. “We’ll get you to Meri.”
We made our way across the field toward the healers’ quadrant, the golden light fading behind the towers. I pushed the door open and guided him inside, the scent of dried herbs and warm poultices wrapping around us like a promise.
But Meri didn’t smile when she saw us.
She stepped forward from the back room, hands already clenched at her sides.
“Meri,” I said, guiding Cordelle toward the nearest cot. “He took an arrow high in the shoulder. It’s deep.”
She didn’t move.
“I can’t help you,” she said quietly.
I froze. “What?”
She glanced toward the door. “The healers have withdrawn support for Thrall Squad. Effective immediately.”
I stared at her. “That’s ridiculous. He needs stitches and internal salve. Youknowthat?—”
“It’s not my decision,” she cut in, voice tight. “It’s an order. From the crown.”
