As they moved Vasharax and the remaining eggs to the hatchery prepared in a salt cave beyond Asharyn’s outskirts, the air trembled with promise. In the hush that followed, something beyond awe stirred within Serenna—the first ignition of a new age, a fire meant to burn the future forward.
CHAPTER 22
JASSYN
The jungle blurred around Jassyn as he dove between whipping vines, each wingbeat flinging mist and shredding leaves behind him. Rain slashed through the canopy, hammering until the leathery membranes hung heavy with water. He tucked one wing to slip through a gap, spreading the other wide to balance, skimming a branch hard enough to peel its bark.
Reaching out with his awareness, he tore the forest open. Vines and leaves parted in a breathless rush, wind carving across his face as he dropped into the clearing. His boots slammed into the mud, the jolt knifing through him as he landed before the male who held a fistful of fire, standing at the axis of it all.
Blades turned in unison, a ring of steel glinting with lethal intent. Essence surged like stormwater breaching a dam. Fire coiled after it, flaring bright from every side. Power rippled through the air, taut as wire, thrumming and ready to snap.
Jassyn raised his palms slowly in a silent plea for restraint.
The leader’s eyes—hazel ringed in gold—widened as they flicked over Jassyn’s wings, catching on the glint of dragonsight still burning in his gaze.
Jassyn blinked, dispelling the draconic pupils before they could rattle this elven-blooded male further.
Lykor warped down beside him, shadows trailing like smoke. A heartbeat later Fenn appeared, materializing with the prince in tow.
The jungle fell still. Vines hung motionless and even the drops of rain seemed to be listening.
“We didn’t come to fight,” Jassyn said, dispelling his wings. He met the leader’s gaze, nearly his height, steady in the slow cascade of water. “We’ve already spoken with Rimeclaw, the dragon leading you, and—”
“Rimeclaw?” The male’s brow creased. “That beast has a name?”
“He does.” Jassyn kept his voice level, offering more. “He speaks to those who can hear him. Like us. The scalebound. Druids.”
A curse fractured across the clearing. The female Lykor had marked as second-in-command twisted on her knees, Essence crackling as she hacked her magic against the shadows Vesryn still had binding her limbs.
“You know who they are!” she hissed through her teeth. “Prince Vesryn and the others. General Elashor said traitors are worth more breathing.”
The leader’s gaze snapped to the prince, then swept over the others behind Jassyn—quick, assessing, measuring threat. Fire wreathed his fists, and when his eyes returned to Jassyn, calculation had replaced caution.
“I know your face too,” he said, voice gone flat. “Jassyn. Another traitor to the crown.”
Heat spiked up Jassyn’s spine, instinct flaring against what this stranger presumed. “I won’t answer for choosing freedom over servitude.”
Fury seethed through his chest, hungry to guard the fragments he’d clawed from the wreckage. He wasn’t theirs anymore—no longer bound to the capital, no longer ruled by their collars.
But before the beastblood reacted and he said anything else, Lykor stepped ahead of him, voice dripping menace.
“Enough pleasantries,” he growled, wings rustling. Shadows roiled around his frame like thunderheads on the verge of breaking. “I could raze this little war band to rubble without blinking.” He prowled closer to the leader, eyes burning. “So shut up and let him speak. Test us, and die on your knees.”
Jassyn held still as the threat hung in the rain. He allowed the silence to stretch until it spoke for him, letting Lykor become the sharper threat and draw every gaze. A shield daring the force to strike him first, just to give Jassyn the space to be heard.
The leader straightened, dispelling the flame as he folded his arms. “Release my people,” he said coolly. A test, not a request. “And maybe then, we’ll listen.”
Lykor didn’t move. Neither did Vesryn, who still held half the camp shackled in shadows.
Jassyn turned, eyes meeting Lykor’s first, imploring restraint before moving to Vesryn’s. A wordless look that didn’t ask but told.
Somehow, that was enough, though he hadn’t truly believed it would be.
Vesryn exhaled through his nose and the darkness slipped away—unraveling from bound limbs, releasing those on the forest floor.
The leader glanced over his shoulder as his companions rose. The female with the auburn braid stalked to his side, her scowl cutting across the glade. Essence shimmered faintly around her. Contained, but only just.
They outnumbered Jassyn’s small group over tenfold. Yet despite being trained, armored, and disciplined, fear clung to them like the rain on their steel. He caught the subtle recoil, the way their hands shook, Essence flickering as fingers hovered near weapons.
