My fingers trembled as I uncorked the stopper. A single drop spilled onto my fingertip—clear and faintly green, smelling of iron and ash. I brought it to my lips, the taste bitter before it even touched my tongue.
The numbness spread instantly.
First my mouth, then my throat. My limbs tingled, like they didn’t belong to me anymore.
And then?—
Silence.
The storm inside me vanished. The electricity dancing over my skin faded like mist in sunlight. My magic… quieted. Not gone, just pressed beneath the surface. Caged.
I relaxed on the ground, muscles limp but no longer burning, breath finally drawing in without fire laced between each inhale.
I couldn’t move.
But gods, the stillness was a mercy.
Perin stood near the edge of the Ascension Grounds, arms crossed over his chest like he owned the godsdamn horizon. His sneer was carved into his face, eyes scanning the sparring ring before landing squarely on me.
His voice cut through the morning like a blade against bone.
“Her dragon is pulling the bond,” he said, loud enough for everyone nearby to hear. “She’ll be dead before the week is out. Someone should put her out of her misery.”
The world stilled.
Before I could even form a breath, Remy moved.
He didn’t shout. Didn’t warn. Just turned, stepped forward—and drove his fist into Perin’s jaw with enough force to echo across the grounds. The crack of impact rang louder than any blade.
A tooth flew, spinning through the air like a shard of white truth.
Perin staggered, blood already spilling from his lip, but his smile… it widened.
Several cadets rushed forward, grabbing Remy, dragging him back even as he strained against their grip, jaw clenched and eyes blazing. His dragon, Katama, roared from somewhere overhead, answering his fury like storm answering a flame.
Iron Fang riders surged forward, posturing to defend their wounded packmate. Ferrula stepped in between them like a wall of steel, blade drawn but lowered—ready, not reckless. Zander was already moving, his voice crisp with command, but I couldn’t hear him over the blood rushing in my ears.
Perin wiped the crimson from his mouth with the back of his hand and spat on the ground. “Touched a nerve, did I?” he rasped, still smiling. “Good.”
That was when I realized, he’d wanted this. The comment. The punch. The attention.
It was bait. Carefully laid. And for a moment, I almost felt sorry for him.
Because Perin had no idea what Remy truly was.
None of them did.
They saw the smile. The charm. The noble title granted to a lowborn boy who rose through skill and favor.
But I knew better.
He had lied to me about his origins. Hidden the truth like a blade tucked into shadow.
But not about who he was.
A killer. Efficient. Precise. Trained in the dark corners of kingdoms that no longer had names. He wasn’t built for courts or command.
He was made for war.
