Titan’s office feels small and confined after being in the sky all morning. “I know you usually pursue instantly if you think you can recover any of our people before blood traffickers cross into Bloodwold, but I need you to hold off this time—at least while we’re here.”
“Hold off?” He frowns at me.
“Have your soldiers keep close watch at night, as usual, but if they see anything suspicious, they need to go straight to the nearest member of the Elite Wing.” I tell him where the team will be positioned around the city, waiting in case of news. “Don’t raise the alarm. Whatever you do, keep quiet and be discreet. We want to catch thieving vampires in the act and take them prisoner before they reach the border.”
He nods, understanding the strategy. “Got it. Don’t let them know we’re coming.”
“We’re coming,” I emphasize. “All you and your soldiers need to do is keep a sharp eye out and alert the squadron to anything worrisome, even if it’s just a hunch.”
“I don’t enjoy raising false alarms,” he says hesitantly.
“I don’t enjoy losing my people to bloodsucking thieves. I don’t care how many false alarms you might raise. There will be one that’s real, and that’s all we need.”
I wonder for a moment if I’ve offended Titan with my tone and the clear exclusion of his garrison, who’ve been dealing with this problem for a long time, but his jaw just firms in determination. “I’ll let my soldiers know. But if you need us to step in, we’ll be ready.”
Grateful, I grip his shoulder. “I know you will be. You’ve saved many lives over the years.” At least half the time, local garrisons along the Bloodwold border recover the victims before it’s too late, through battle or otherwise. If it’s a question of getting caught or killed by dragon shifters—or by the rising sun—blood traffickers will often abandon their captives and run.
“We captured two Bloodwold scum recently, but they killed themselves before we could get them into prison.” His mouth thinning, Titan shakes his head. “They’re more afraid of their own king’s wrath than of yours.”
Huffing sourly, I wonder when I stopped being the most terrifying thing around. Not that I enjoyed the reputation, but it was mine.
Actually, I know when. The change happened a bit more than two centuries ago, when I started trying to protect fucking everyone after the Vampire King murdered an entire starborn royal family in cold blood.
Except for one. He spared her life to steal her vote. The Bloodthief Bride. A hard smile almost curves my mouth.
“Taking prisoners is our focus now,” I reiterate. “Capture—and make sure they don’t kill themselves.”
We don’t even know if a raid will happen in Porthwood or anywhere else. Incidents are irregular, unpredictable, and happen in different places—sometimes not even in Torridaig. Coming here is nothing more than a logical guess as to where blood traffickers might strike next, one I hope will pan out and help us stand against Rannigan Bloodthief at the upcoming Council.
Or…My stomach dives to the floor. There is another way to thwart him. The best way of all.
The dragon in me instantly roars in protest. Shadows creep under my skin—hot, feral magic reminding me that dragons gather and keep. We don’t let our treasures go.
Torn straight down the middle, I gruffly add, “We can stay in Porthwood for several days, but not indefinitely. If something doesn’t happen soon, we’ll have to move on.”
Titan’s expression turns grimmer than ever, and I fear I look the same. “I’ve never hoped for a raid before. It doesn’t feel right.”
“I know what you mean.” I start toward the door, wanting to get back to the team. “But I don’t plan on letting anyone cross the border and slip into the tunnels. If traffickers come, we’ll stop them.”
“Those fucking tunnels,” Titan growls.
I couldn’t agree more, an answering growl rumbling in my throat. Not long after Rannigan introduced the magic to counter our firebreath, he began riddling the whole border on his side from northeastern Torridaig to Fanghaven with tunnels he claims are “a mining operation” and that open again under the cover of Hellwood Forest. It’s absurd. Gildenfae brave enough to cross the border and sniff around have confirmed there’s nothing of value under that land. The real purpose of Rannigan’s tunnels is to get his raiders and their captives underground and behind locked doors the second they reach Bloodwold. Safe from the sun, and safe from my army.
Though not for much longer. I’ll be making my own demands during the Council, whether I have the votes to back me or not. He stops all blood raids, or I stop respecting our goddess-approved borders. Then we’ll see who’s more terrifying.
I give Titan a parting nod, and he nods back, confident in me and the Elite Wing. As I leave his office, that hard smile finally curves my mouth, so devoid of humor it makes me wonder to what depths I could fall if I let myself. I don’t think I’ve ever felt more hate in my nearly six-hundred-year life than when that smug bastard dug his tunnels right in front of my face. Rannigan Bloodthief must know I could’ve killed him the night he murdered the Fanghaven royals, and maybe I should have.
Instead, I made a choice that gave me the worst injury of my existence and gave Rannigan the precious seconds he needed to slither away. It was all instinct and reaction, preservation more important than punishing. I saved a life instead of taking two.
That’s the exact moment he became the more fearsome beast. I’m itching to take the title back.
I find the team again, and while we won’t go our separate ways yet, I want to pair them off for later. I need to spread us out around Porthwood without leaving anyone alone or vulnerable.
Standing in a sunny patch of the courtyard, Idallia seems in a better mood, maybe because Rimblaze is undeniably cheerful and fluttering around her and Fyrestar with energy that can only come from sheer excitement.
The tension in my jaw unlocks. Seeing the three of them, her smiling and her birds glowing, makes my chest pull tight.
The desire to be a part of that draws me toward them, but then reality hits, and I remember I’ve been keeping all the secrets she wants to know, and flat-out lying to her when she asks.
