I step forward, my hand finding Varok's arm. "I can speak for myself," I say, my voice steadier than I feel. I meet Thorne's gaze directly, refusing to flinch from the contempt I see there.
"General Thorne," I address him with formal precision, "I'd say it's a pleasure, but we're both beyond such pretense. I've been used as a pawn in this game long enough—by my father, by you, by forces I'm still struggling to understand. What I don't understand is why. What is so important about me specifically that warrants kidnapping, assassination attempts, and the potential collapse of a peace treaty that took centuries to establish?"
Thorne's eyebrows lift slightly, the only indication that my directness has surprised him. "Your naivety is almost endearing," he replies, voice silky with practiced condescension. "You've certainly embraced your role as naga concubine withenthusiasm. My informants tell me you bear their mark now." His nostrils flare as he draws a deliberate breath. "A small mercy human senses are duller than theirs. I'd rather not detect evidence of your...unnatural union."
I refuse to rise to his bait. "I asked you a question, General."
He laughs, the sound hollow and without warmth. "You were consumed in the flames long before you were born." His eyes narrow, studying my reaction. "Your presence awakens their dormant powers, but our seer showed me the truth. You're not their salvation but their undoing. The Season of Naga ends with extinction, my dear. Not humanity's—theirs." His gaze flicks to Varok. "Your father understood this when he agreed to send you. Pity you've grown so...attached to the very nest you'll destroy.”
Varok shifts beside me, his scales rippling with tension beneath the harsh sunlight. Through our bond, I feel a sharp spike of surprise then suspicion at the mention of a seer.
"I very much doubt my father approves of you amassing an army at the border which only threatens the peace I was sent here to secure.”
Something shifts in Thorne's expression. A flicker of surprise quickly masked. "Your father entrusted me with securing our borders by any means necessary. The details were left to my discretion."
He's lying. I can taste it, sharp and metallic on my tongue like blood. Whether about my father's involvement or something else, I can't be sure, but the realization steadies me.
"You're wrong about the prophecy," I say, drawing strength from the certainty I feel deep in my bones. "The Season of Naga isn't about dominance or extinction. It's about balance restored. A new beginning after centuries of darkness." I take another step forward, feeling Emberyn grow warmer against my skin. "The prophecy speaks of healing what was broken during the Sundering, not replacing one tyranny with another."
"Pretty words," Thorne sneers. "Tell that to the villages that burned because of their kind. To the children who watched their parents flayed by naga blades."
"I could say the same for the naga hatchlings skinned for their scales," I counter. "For the centuries they've spent underground because we drove them there with weapons that turned their homeland to ash." I gesture to the wasteland around us. "This is what human victory looks like, General. Is this really the legacy you want to preserve?"
Thorne's face hardens to granite. "Better ash than subjugation.” He spits the word like a curse. "What do you think happens to humanity if serpents are allowed to rule?"
I shake my head, feeling the truth resonate within me. "Not rule. Coexist. The prophecy speaks of balance, of wounds closing where kin have died." The words come to me as if I've always known them, rising from some deep well of understanding I didn't know I possessed. "The Season of Naga isn't the naga’s doom, General. It's the chance to end the cycle of violence that's poisoned both our peoples for centuries."
Thorne's lips curl into a sneer as he steps forward, his shadow stretching between us like a chasm. The morning sun catches on his military medals, sending harsh reflections across the scorched earth.
"Such idealism," he says, voice dripping with disdain. "This is why women have no place in diplomacy or war. There can never be peace between our kinds, girl. One must dominate, one must submit—that is the natural order. Your father understood this. Pity his daughter spreads her legs for serpents instead of standing with her own species."
Chapter Twenty-Eight
VAROK
My scales flare instantly with heat at Thorne's vile words, a surge of protective rage coursing through my blood like liquid fire. I feel my control slipping, the elemental power pushing against my restraint as flames lick beneath my scales. How dare this human insult my bloodmate, my Leira, with such crude disrespect!
"You speak of natural order," I snarl, tail lashing violently against the scorched earth, sending ash spiraling into the air, "yet you understand nothing of it.”
I coil forward, my full height rising as I position myself slightly in front of Leira. Through our bond, I feel her indignation and determination pulsing alongside my fury. She does not need my protection from mere words, but the primal part of me, the part that claimed her as mine, demands I answer this insult with blood.
Thorne’s blood.
A light pressure on my arm breaks through my fury. Leira's fingers press against my scales, her touch a sudden anchor in the storm of my rage.
"Don't," she whispers, her voice so low only I can hear it. "This is exactly what he wants. He's trying to provoke you intocrossing the border so he can reignite the war. If you attack, you break the treaty.”
Her wisdom cuts through my anger like cold water on flame. I take a steadying breath, feeling the heat beneath my scales begin to recede. She is right. The human stands deliberately on his side of the border, his soldiers arrayed behind him in calculated formation. One wrong move from me would give him precisely the justification he seeks.
"What's wrong, Sovereign?" Thorne taunts, his thin lips curving into a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "Has your pet human already tamed your savage nature?”
I ignore Thorne's crude attempt to provoke me through Leira. Such tactics reveal his weakness, not mine. "You spoke of a seer," I say instead, keeping my voice deliberately controlled despite the fire building within my core. I flex my claws, feeling sunlight glint off their edges as I choose my words with precision. "Of one who claims visions of naga extinction." The lie tastes bitter in the air between us. Through our bond, I feel Leira's mind working alongside mine, connecting the fragments Thorne has unwittingly revealed. "Yet I sense something else beneath your words. Not a human seer, but one that is not yours to claim."
Thorne's thin lips curve upward, satisfaction gleaming in his pale eyes. "Perceptive, Sovereign Flame. Yes, I have acquired something of value. A small prize with violet scales and extraordinary gifts." He taps his temple with one finger. "She fights the chains, of course. Begs to be reunited with her twin. But I could never set her free when she sees such interesting things about your future. About the fire in your blood burning out.”
My scales tighten against my body as ice floods my veins. Zara. But no—I force my breathing to remain steady. The youngling is safe, being escorted to the temple under my mosttrusted guards. I let nothing show on my face, though my inner flame flickers with momentary doubt.
"Lies," Leira says beside me, her voice quiet but certain. Through our bond, I feel her steadiness flow into me like cool water, tempering my fire. She knows my thoughts without words. "You're bluffing.”
