“We have increased patrols along the border,” he says, his voice even, measured. “But if the attacks are intensifying, this isn’t just Shadow Forces slipping through the wards.”
A chill runs through me.
Across the table, Lord Toren’s expression hardens. “That is what concerns us, Warlord.”
His voice carries the weight of a leader who has seen his lands burn, who has counted the dead left in the wake of war.
“These attacks are not like the scattered raids we’ve seen in past years. They seem coordinated. The fires were set in multiple locations at once, driving survivors into open ground—easy targets.”
A heavy beat passes. The sconces flicker, the flames shifting—like even the air is holding its breath.
Garrick exhales sharply, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’re suggesting these weren’t random?” His tone is skeptical, but there’s a new sharpness to it.
Toren clears his throat, impatience threading through every word. “My sister has spent weeks gathering accounts from survivors.” He leans forward slightly, his fingers pressing against the table. “I brought her because she sees things others do not.”
He flicks his gaze toward Thane, sharp and unyielding. “The Fire Clan may rule these lands, but we are the ones who live on the borders. We are the first to burn when war comes.”
I grip the goblet stem, forcing my fingers to stay steady. The weight of his words presses into me, sinking into something raw and uneasy. Because I know what it is to watch a village burn. I know what it is to hear the screams, to smell the thick, choking scent of wood and flesh turning to ash.
At first, I believed the attack on my home was just another raid, a random, unprovoked act of destruction. I hadn’t yet learned the truth—they came for me.
And now, as Toren speaks of coordinated attacks, of fires set in multiple locations at once, a question rises, unbidden.
Are they still looking for me? Is that why the attacks along the borderlands are growing more frequent? More organized?
The thought coils tight in my chest, winding through my ribs like something cold, something clawed.
A beat. Then—Toren’s voice cuts through my thoughts. “We need to know—what is being done to stop this?”
Thane sets down his goblet with an easy, controlled motion, his expression unreadable.
“The Shadow Forces are testing us. We are investigating the cause, but I won’t give you empty reassurances.” His tone remains steady, unwavering. “What I can promise is this: theFire Clan will not abandon its people.”
Silence stretches, taut as a drawn bow.
Across from me, Lady Evelyne studies him. Her gaze sharp, assessing—peeling back his words, searching for fractures in his certainty. Then, she speaks.
“See that you don’t, Warlord.” Her voice is smooth, but something lingers beneath it. A warning. A knowing. A truth she does not yet name. “Because this is only the beginning.”
A chill winds down my spine. There’s a quiet dread in her voice.
She knows something. I feel it.
Lord Toren exhales sharply, frustration etched into the lines of his face. He straightens, shoulders squaring.
“Then we need more warriors.” His tone is firm, unmoving. “If the Fire Clan will not abandon its people, prove it. Send reinforcements to protect our lands.” He gestures toward Thane, tension simmering beneath the surface. “We hold the border, Warlord. But for how much longer? We need soldiers—now.”
Firelight flickers across his face, deepening the shadows beneath his eyes. He isn’t just making a demand. He is warning them.
Thane exhales slowly, setting his goblet down with a quiet clink against the table. The firelight catches on the silver clasps of his coat, casting shifting patterns of gold and shadow across his sleeves.
“You’ll have your soldiers,” he says. Firm. Final. “Jarek will see to it in the morning. And when you leave in a few days, those soldiers will go with you.”
A flicker of relief crosses Toren’s face—but he doesn’t relax. He watches Thane carefully, weighing the promise, measuring its worth.
Then, after a beat, he asks the question I suspect he has been waiting to ask all along. “Will any of them be dragon-bonded?”
Torchlight shifts, shadowing his face. He knows the answer matters.
