Her jaw clenched, her fingers tightening around the hilt. ‘She—’
‘She was once your friend, Alina.’
‘And she betrayed me,’ she breathed, her grip so tight her knuckles turned white. Her eyes dropped to where the blade had pierced fabric, pressing against skin. ‘What’s to stop her from doing it again?’
‘Nothing,’ Kai said with a small, sorrowful shrug. ‘That choice lies with you, whether or not you dare to trust her again.’
‘I will never trust a witch.’
‘And I respect that,’ he said, gently wrapping his fingers around the blade and lowering it from his chest. ‘But don’t damn me for being the fool who still might.’
Alina stepped back, slipping her blade into its sheath with a finality that stung more than steel. Her shoulders were taut, her brown eyes gleaming. Not with anger, but with the quiet ache of disappointment. Pain lingered in her stare like a shadow at dusk, and whether Kai had meant to or not, he had put it there.
In that moment, as surely as the moon would rise in the desert sky, Kai knew something within their bond had splintered. She would never look at him quite the same again. Never trust him with that unguarded vulnerability he had once been privileged to see. Whatever future might have lain in the space between them had turned to ash in his hands.
A crack split through the fortress of his wyverian heart.
‘Where is she?’ he asked, though his voice faltered like wind through broken glass, for fate was merciless in how it wrenched people apart.
‘Gone, I imagine,’ Alina said softly, arms folding across her chest like armour. ‘She must’ve left hours ago—’ But Kai didn’t wait for her to finish. He turned on his heel and bolted through the open doorway, sprinting towards one of the palace terraces. The wind met him there, sharp with urgency as he scanned the endless horizon. If the gods held even a sliver of kindness, he might still glimpse the witch.
‘Kai!’ Alina’s voice rang out behind him, stopping him in his tracks. ‘She could be anywhere.’
‘I’ll find her,’ he vowed.
‘Take one of my dragons.’
He froze, turning slowly to meet her gaze. He could see it written across her face. The bitter hurt, the betrayal. But layered beneath it, like the memory of spring beneath snow, was still care. Still love. Still something that hadn’t been fully extinguished.
‘Alina, I—’
‘Oh, shut up, wyverian,’ she muttered, waving him away with a weary hand. ‘You had better be right about her. If not, I’ll feed her to my dragons.’
A grin tugged at the corners of Kai’s lips, and before she could stop him, he stepped forward and wrapped her into a sudden embrace, pressing a kiss to her cheek.
A polite cough made him glance up. Mareena stood nearby, her expression unreadable. But Kai did not release the princess.
It was Alina who pulled away first, putting space between them once more.
‘I have a better option for you,’ Mareena said, steppingforward with the quiet confidence of someone holding a secret. ‘A swifter one.’
She strode to the edge of the balcony, the golden light of the descending sun casting long shadows across her flowing white gown. Lifting her arms, she released a sound from deep within her throat, neither whistle nor song, but something ancient. It echoed like a war cry from forgotten lands, resonant and raw.
Moments later, the sky split with golden flame.
An enormous phoenix came hurtling through the dusky heavens, wings outstretched like blazing banners, scattering embers with every beat. It alighted upon the terrace’s edge, talons gripping stone, feathers crackling with firelight. Sparks drifted down like stardust as the creature folded its magnificent wings.
Kai and Alina exchanged a glance, stunned to silence, before turning slowly to Mareena.
‘This is Kaelis,’ she said, her voice threaded with reverence as she reached out to stroke the shimmering creature. ‘My phoenix.’
…
Dawn knew she ought to summon her magic, to will herself far from this forsaken desert. It would be the wise thing—sensible, strategic—to return to her own kind. And yet, another part of her, the bruised and hollowed part, longed to simply dissolve into the great emptiness of the world. Out here beneath the endless sky, she was no one. No lingering stares because of the hue of her eyes. No whispered condemnations tied to a past steeped in betrayal and regret. Just silence. Just sand. Just solitude.
She was alone.
As the sun dipped beyond the horizon and the moon ascended like a watchful ghost in the heavens, Dawn kept walking. She did not care where her feet carried her. If she wandered far enough to never find her way back, so be it. Perhaps this was her path. To vanish quietly into the dust, a forgotten whisper in the wind.
