Webbed talons flexed, scraping frozen fronds. Rimeclaw’s gaze drifted toward the jungle’s heart, where the lake lay veiled behind the trees.
“But the mortals trail behind,”he rumbled.“Slow on their brittle legs. I can wait. I can sleep. He won’t yank the leash. Not yet.”
Lykor stiffened. His gaze met Vesryn’s as a cold understanding bled from Aesar’s thoughts into his own. This dragon was the vanguard, leading Galaeryn’s ground forces across the Wastes.
Aesar’s words drifted into Lykor’s awareness.“They’ll overrun us in Asharyn with the kind of magic that reshapes outcomes.”
“I’ll scout,” Vesryn said, wings unfurling, scales still plated down his arms. “See what we’re up against.”
The prince kept his tone light, though a muscle ticked in his jaw. Lykor heard the restraint beneath it, the measured calm of someone holding steady so others wouldn’t fear the approaching storm.
“You’ll need someone to cloak you, princeling,” Fenn said, wings flaring wide.
Vesryn’s mouth thinned, but he gave a curt nod. Without another word, they launched upward, wings shearing through the cold until they vanished into the jagged wound torn through the canopy.
Lykor exhaled as he turned back to the dragon, breath fogging in the frost-laden air. If Rimeclaw was speaking freely, Lykor couldn’t afford to waste the chance.
“And stars help us if he decides we’ve overstayed our welcome,”Aesar mumbled.
“You say the king holds your leash,” Lykor said quietly. “Why not end us? Why speak to us at all?”
Rimeclaw’s frilled spines lifted, then shuddered, ice flaking from his shoulders.“Speech was not forbidden. He thinks me a beast and knows nothing of the pact the scalebound keep.”
His eyes, pale like diamonds in light, swept over them with a weariness that had outlived grief.“And it has been longer than memory since a voice answered back. Those who could… Gone, before the chains bit deep. My scalebound. My offspring. My mate.”
As silence settled, Lykor’s gaze flicked to Jassyn, the clawed tips of his wings curling inward. What stirred in Lykor’s chest blurred between kinship and dread, pity’s edge cutting both ways.
Then—almost like an afterthought—Rimeclaw added,“Once, I gave a poem of the Wardens to a young draka of earth and starlight. She never spoke, but I think she heard. Perhaps I only dreamed it.”
Lykor’s jaw went tight. Earth and starlight. Of all the cursed phrases. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he growled under his breath.
Jassyn shot him a questioning look, but Lykor waved it off—along with the memory of Serenna’s absurd claim that the Heart had spoken to her.
Rimeclaw blinked and frost began to thaw, weeping from his flanks.“I long to join my kin in the endless skies,”he confessed, softer now.“But even that fate was denied me.”His head lowered, crystalline eyes catching the fractured light above.“Would you two grant that release, the mercy that ends this binding?”
The question fell like a stone into still water, despair rippling through Lykor’s ribs. In Rimeclaw’s voice, death sounded more like atonement than escape—penance for a life he could no longer bear. And Lykor wondered when mercy had learned to feel this cold.
“No.”
The word wasn’t loud, but it sliced clean through the air. Jassyn stepped forward. “We could help you. Find a way where your will could be your own again.”
Rimeclaw’s eyes flashed.“You assume there will be a will left to free.”A low rumble rolled through his throat.“One of us is already hollowed to the marrow. The tyrant fetters her mind in madness and rot—sealed somewhere deep in the earth, where no light dares follow.”
Lykor’s gut clenched as if the ground had dropped away beneath him. Two dragons bent to Galaeryn’s command.
While they had only a hatchling.
Barely fledged.
“Do you think Skylash is already his?”Aesar asked.
Lykor shook his head, more denial than certainty.“WE WON’T KNOW UNTIL WE SEARCH THE MAW. IF WE’RE NOT ALREADY TOO LATE.”
“We shattered the Heart binding Cinderax,” Jassyn continued, attention fixed on the dragon. “We could do the same for you.”
“We’ve no way of tearing a relic from the king,” Lykor muttered, doubtful the words were low enough for Jassyn alone. “And how do we trust Rimeclaw won’t lead Galaeryn straight to our people?”
Jassyn’s jaw tightened. “It’s not about trust. It’s about doing what’s right.”
