The horn’s call rang sharp across the scorched air.
Major Ledor stiffened, his back straightening just as the heavy castle doors boomed open behind him. I turned, my stomach already knotting.
Theron emerged, draped in a cloak of blood-red velvet lined with silver. Twenty guards in ceremonial armor flanked him like a wall of steel and loyalty, though the only thing they seemed loyal to was fear.
He stopped beside the major, his expression cool and unreadable as he surveyed the wreckage, the blackened stone, the ash-smeared blades still cooling in the dirt, the stunned faces of riders who had nearly died just minutes before.
“Riders,” Theron called out, voice crisp and commanding. “This attack on our ranks, on the honored guild, will not be tolerated.”
His words rang hollow against the silence that followed. No cheers. No nods of agreement. Just the rustle of wind and the hiss of lingering embers.
Then Cade stepped forward from Crownwatch, jaw clenched.
“Where was Iron Fang?” he demanded. “They left five minutes before the ambush. Seems pretty convenient.”
Gasps rippled through the gathered riders. I hadn’t realized they were gone in the confusion.
Theron’s lips thinned into a slash of irritation. “I had dispatched them on an errand for the crown.”
Cade didn’t back down. “The entire squad?” They were the largest squad, and they had never left together before.
The accusation hung heavy in the air.
Theron lifted his chin. “I will call them back immediately. Clearly, the castle is under siege, and we must unify under strong leadership. To that end?—”
He raised his hands, gaze sweeping the grounds like a victor surveying the ashes of his conquest.
“—I will ascend as the King of Warriath within the week, to ensure our protection and continuity.”
No one clapped. No one moved.
Because for the first time, everyone saw it for what it was. And it was not a declaration of protection.
But a power grab made in the wake of blood and betrayal.
And some of us weren’t sure he hadn’t lit the fire himself.
Theron’s face contorted like a mask cracking under pressure.
“Have the dragons do a sweep of the roads connecting to Warriath,” he commanded, his voice sharp enough to cut steel. “Clear them. All hostiles will be expunged.”
Major Ledor stiffened. “Majesty…” he began, but his voice faltered. For a man who had commanded soldiers and dragons alike, it was jarring to see him hesitate. “Our dragons will not obey that order.”
I blinked, stunned. My gaze cut to Zander, but he only gave a slight shrug, then shook his head. He was just as confused as I was.
“What?” Theron’s voice climbed, brittle and incredulous.
“The dragons,” Ledor said, slowly and with great weight, “will not follow you.”
Theron’s eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. “Do they follow you?”
The pause that followed made the entire grounds hold its breath. Then Major Ledor answered, each word a measured defiance. “They will in most regards. But if they feel an order is politically motivated and not for the safety of Warriath, they will refuse.”
A deeper silence settled as Ledor continued, “You are not their chosen heir.”
Theron’s jaw flexed, his eyes burning with unspoken fury. It was the kind of look I’d seen before, just before someone did something reckless. Something they couldn’t take back.
And for a second, I thought he might strike Ledor right there, in front of every rider and dragon on the grounds.
