She punched him straight in the mouth.
Hard.
Bravik reeled backward, spitting blood, as Perin stepped forward to grab her. Chaos erupted.
Multiple squads rushed in at once, our own included, yelling, grabbing, trying to pull them apart. Riven got to Naia first, wrapping her arms around her waist and hauling her back. Jax caught Perin mid-lunge, dragging him off his feet. Ferrula stepped between everyone, shouting above the din like a war general trying to keep her troops alive.
Major Ledor’s voice roared over it all, cold and clipped. “Enough!”
It took a minute, but the storm settled. Bravik’s lip was split. Naia’s eyes still burned.
Remy appeared beside her, gently taking her by the uninjured arm. “Come on,” he said, his voice unusually soft. “Let’s get that looked at.”
She let him lead her toward the saddle stations without a word, jaw clenched, blood still dripping onto the stone.
And I didn’t blame her.
Because today wasn’t about defeating monsters.
It was about exposing them.
The wind had picked up across the Ascension Grounds, carrying with it the lingering burn of magic and the metallic tang of blood. Most of the squads were dispersing, muttering to each other as they headed back to the barracks or to tend to their dragons. But my attention was fixed on Naia and Remy, seated on a short stone wall near the saddle racks.
Naia had her sleeve rolled up to the shoulder, and Remy crouched in front of her, focused as he cleaned the shallow cut with a cloth dipped in water. His movements were careful, precise, the kind of care that came from experience, not affection.
I took a step toward them, intent on checking in.
Then I heard his voice and froze.
“It’s not deep,” Remy murmured, binding her arm in a strip of linen. “Under the circumstances, it’s a good thing you won’t need a healer. The major just wanted to scare us. Not kill us.”
Naia huffed a breath, half pain, half bitterness.
“Iron Fang will get what’s coming to them,” Remy added, his voice edged like a blade beneath the skin. “They’re Theron’s puppets. They’d rather lose a trial than see someone from Thrall Squad advance.”
Naia didn’t argue. She just nodded, eyes still hard from the fight. “I’m aware.”
“This won’t end until we figure out who’s loyal to the true king.”
“I know,” Naia whispered.
Silence hung between them.
And I stood still, fingers curling slightly at my sides as something cold slid through my spine.
Because I knew where Naia’s loyalties lay.
But I wasn’t sure what his were.
Which king?
The one dying in his chamber?
Or the one still hiding behind crowns of ash and prophecy?
Remy tied the last knot in her bandage and stepped back.
And I kept my distance, the question whispering louder in my mind than any horn the major could blow.
