The Ascension Grounds waited.
Something was wrong.
The Ascension Grounds buzzed with confusion and tension, cadets gathering in clusters, eyes turned toward the castle. The bells had stopped, but the air hadn’t calmed. It was charged, thick with something we didn’t understand.
Until the doors to the castle opened.
And everything stopped.
Two guards stepped out first, armored in ceremonial steel and painted shields. Behind them?—
Zander.
My breath caught in my throat.
His hands were bound in gleaming iron cuffs, his arms pulled tightly behind his back, chains dragging between them. His armor had been stripped to the basics, and his expression was completely blank. Not defiant. Not afraid.
Empty.
“No,” I whispered, already taking a step forward.
I reached for him across the bond, my thoughts wild and tangled, trying to feel that thread between us. The one that always shimmered like a heartbeat, steady even in silence.
It wasn’t there.
Not blocked.
Gone.
“Dragonsbane,” I breathed, ice slicing down my spine.
“They dosed him?” Riven asked in a horrified tone beside me, already moving closer to my side.
“Yes,” I whispered.
The crowd parted like water around fire as Zander was led to the center of the grounds. His boots scraped against the stone, and though he didn’t stumble, he wasn’t resisting either. Every part of him looked dulled, like they hadn’t just chained his body… they’d shackled his spirit too.
“What is going on?” Naia murmured, tense at my back.
Thenheemerged.
Theron.
Cloaked in black with silver trim, he walked behind the escort like he owned the air itself. His chin lifted, every step measured and precise.
But it was his smile that turned my blood to ice.
Smug. Vicious. Triumphant.
The kind of smile someone wore not just when they’d won—but when they wanted everyone to watch them win.
I clenched my fists, heart pounding.
Because this wasn’t justice.
It was theater.
And Zander Rayne was the crown’s next performance.
