“You’re asking an awful lot of me, Red.”His gaze dips to the chains around my neck, one holding his darkness, the other Julien’s.“How can I focus on anything else when you’re in the room?”
He takes his time looking over me again, crossing his muscular arms over his chest plate. Markings on full display from his biceps up to his fingertips. Pulsing.
When I finally reach his face, he’s still conducting a slow appraisal, which is exactly why I dressed this way. For them, yes. But I also want the beings in that room to question everything: how I walk, how I’ve dressed, how I stay silent until…
“Don’t introduce me,” I say suddenly, catching each of their eyes. “Just pretend I’m not even there.”
“Sure, I’ll stop breathing while I’m at it.”
I roll my eyes, but don’t hide my smile. Sai grins back, biting his tongue between his teeth as he winks.
“Smart strategy,” Kane says, and the brief, unexpected compliment spikes my adrenaline. The room turns silent.
“Smart strategy,” Sai repeats in a mockingly deep voice, glancing at Julien.
Julien smirks, Ezekial coughs over a laugh, and Kane blinks once, then turns away.
***
Four beings sit at the long meeting table, but rise as we enter.
I follow behind Ezekial and Kane, with Julien and Sai moving in after us, each placing themselves with casual precision around the room—strategic and watchful.
Kane stands beside Ezekial, on his right. I choose the chair off to the side, behind Ezekial’s left shoulder, quiet in the corner.
Julien and Sai stay standing, Julien a silent sentinel behind the Leads’ chairs, close enough toloom, Sai leaning back against the wall, arms loose but eyes sharp.
One of the Commanders, strangely the one with a strip of dark cloth over his eyes, shifts to glance behind him. The rest remain still.
When Ezekial sits, they all follow suit—except Kane, Julien and Sai, who all remain on their feet.
“Prince Amon Drakaris, heir to the Dragon shifter throne, lead beneficiary to this organisation, has requested this meeting today,” Ezekial begins immediately, no pleasantries, voice firm.
From the moment Amon’s title was said, everything became quieter.
“He has a personal interest in the Green Robes,” Ezekial continues. “His Royal Highness is willing to provide any funds or services required. Including his army.” He controls the silence, creating a pause long enough for the Leads to digest the weight of his words.
An army of dragons. The power the Council now holds magnified, as is the destruction they could cause.
“However, His Highness finds it troubling that we have yet to locate Lord Prospero, or any of these robed beings.Despite the funding each district and its leaders provide. Despite all the extensive training of your units. Despite the intel we’ve shared.” He rests his arms on the table, clasping his hands as he leans forwards slightly. “Despite the trust we have mistakenly placed in you.”
One of the Lead Commanders—a woman with a shaved head covered in intricate white tattoos—straightens. Her sharp gaze meets Ezekial’s.
Twenty years in her post, a skilled mage of light with a sharp tongue and fierce rule. Her units respect and fear her.
“Lord, are you suggesting that we’ve done something wrong?” Her voice is measured, but there’s a flicker of frustration and fear beneath it. “You know we have been working tirelessly. Our units have been on patrol every moment we can spare.”
“Yet we have made no progress. Nothing to show. We’re chasing his shadow, always one step behind.”
I do my best to stay shrouded in the corner, but I’m compelled to watch him, the way he commands the room.
“You do not trust us, my Lord?” A man with a long russet beard speaks, eyes narrowing, the corners creased with tension. His large arms are tense, ready to defend his stance or possibly brace for a blow.
This is the warlock who specialises in fire and healing, I remember thinking it was an unusual combination. He joined the enforcer training programme as soon as he turned eighteen, and never left. Never took a break. Systematically rose through the ranks.
“No.” Kane’s voice cuts through the room like a guillotine.
All four Commanders snap to him, and terror oozes from them.
