“Kaelith and Hein will be separated,” he continued, as if he hadn’t just dumped oil on a fire. “I need to ensure they remain loyal even when apart.”
Zander’s head snapped toward him. “Have you lost your mind?”
Kaelith let out a growl that shook the stone beneath my boots.
“We don’t even know how a mating bond affects dragons!” Zander shouted, his voice climbing with fury. “You separate them now, they’ll do more than just resist. They’ll kill you.”
And he wasn’t exaggerating.
Kaelith was already moving, her tail lashing against the cracked stone, her head lowering. Fire curled in her throat, and Hein let out a warning rumble that rattled my teeth.
I jumped off the podium, sprinting toward her as Zander moved for Hein, both of us shouting their names.
Kaelith—Kaelith, stop!
But she wasn’t hearing reason. She was hearing threat.
He wants to separate me from him,she growled, eyes locked on Kaler.He wants to test us like we’re cattle. Does he think his petty treaty can save him from my wrath?
I skidded to a halt in front of her, placing myself between Kaelith’s massive head and the major’s very flammable body.
Her nostrils flared inches from me.
I know,I said, panting.But you can’t kill him.
Why not?
Because then they’ll replace him with someone worse,I pleaded.Because I am asking you.
She dropped her head further, so close her breath scorched across my cheek.
You are mine,she said darkly.And I will not be ordered to leave what is mine.
I nodded slowly, never lowering my gaze.Noted.
Behind me, Hein let out a short, guttural breath, something between reluctant agreement and warning, before Zander exhaled hard, his hands still raised in calm restraint.
The major stood utterly still. Watching.
Judging.
Alive.
For now.
But even he seemed to know just how close he’d come to being turned into ash.
The ground trembled as a deep, thunderous roar echoed across the Ascension Grounds. Heads turned. Conversations died. The shadows stretched long as something massive descended from the sky, wings slicing through the fading light.
Mysan landed first.
The major’s red Striker was massive. Almost as big as Kaelith, his wings still half-spread in a show of power as his claws sank into the cracked stone. The ridges of his spine pulsed faintly with fire beneath the scales, and his tail lashed once behind him. His eyes, glowing molten gold, locked onto the major.
Major Kaler’s jaw tightened.
And then Siergen landed.
His red scales caught the last of the sun, glowing brighter than Mysan’s, like liquid flame molded into flesh. The air around him seemed to ripple with pressure, and for a moment, the sky itself held its breath.
