Isara stood, abrupt enough that the chair scraped against the stone. “You think I’m going to lie to them? Pretend I was some broken doll in your hands?”
Ashterion didn’t rise. He simply looked up at her, tone deceptively mild. “If you’re determined to walk out of here in one piece,” he murmured. “You’ll listen to me.”
Her glare hardened, fury flickering beneath the surface.
“I want to go home,” she snapped, her voice breaking. “Whatever it takes.”
“So, listen to me. Though admittedly…” Ashterion raised a brow at her. “I cannot understand the desire to crawl back toLuceren.”
That hit. Her jaw clenched. “My children need me.”
The statement hung between them, suspended in the sudden stillness of the room.
Everything in him, every inch of his detachment, every frayed thread of endurance, snapped. All twelve centuries of his existence crashed into that single word.Children.
Isara’s face drained of colour, horror dawning in her features as she realised what she’d revealed. Her hand flew to her mouth, too late to catch the secret that had escaped.
“You have children?” His shadows reacted before he could master them, coiling tight around his ankles in agitated spirals.
“I didn’t—” she started, then stopped, her throat working as she swallowed.
Her eyes were wild. But it wasn’t ordinary fear. No, it was the primal terror that lived in the marrow of mothers who would burn worlds to protect what was theirs.
“No,” she whispered, the lie transparent as glass. “I misspoke.”
Ashterion’s mind recalculated in real time. She’d arrived less than a year ago. He was confident of that much. Varyth wouldn’t have been able to hide her presence for longer than a few seasons. There was no way the children were born here.
“You have children.” Not a question this time. A fact. Carved and cold.
Isara’s reaction was instant. She moved like something feral—like she’d throw the entire room into flame and ruin if she thought it would protect what was hers. Her magic lashed against the collar, the scent of ether filling the air as it fought to break free.
“If you go anywhere near them, I will take you apart piece by piece.”
Ah.
There it was. The mother underneath the soldier. The apex predator that had always been hiding behind the brittle pride and sharp tongue.
Ashterion forced calm into his frame. Smoothed every instinct that screamed for more information. “Not to worry, little fireling. I have no interest in hunting children. It’s no fun. They’re very slow.”
She stared at him. Like she couldn’t tell if he was joking. Isara opened her mouth, then closed it.
Ashterion rolled his eyes. “Truly, do you think I’m so depraved I would harm a child?”
She didn’t answer, just kept breathing far too fast and hard, chest rising in those panicked, irregular bursts. The female needed to calm down before she threw herself into a wall.
“You can stop looking at me like that.” He sighed. “Your children are of no use to me. Besides.” He flicked his gaze back to her, cool and dry. “I assume they take after you, so they’re probably a nightmare.”
She jolted back into motion, advancing a step towards him. “You bastard,” she spat. But there was a hint of something beyond rage behind the words.
Ashterion smirked, tilting his head. “Yes.” He leaned back, shadows curling quietly around the legs of his chair as he folded the moment into thought.
Children.Under Varyth’s care.
If they weren’t his own offspring? That would complicate things. The male’s history with children… There was no way Isara knew. She would never have allowed them to remain under his care if she did. Unless theywerehis own. However unlikely, Ashterion needed to be sure.
Casually, almost bored, he asked, “Based on the timeline… I assume they aren’t Varyth’s?”
Isara stiffened.
