Theron gave a stiff nod, jaw tight. “Of course. My priority is, and has always been, the safety of Warriath.”
Liar.
Inderia stood just behind him, her hands clasped in front of her gown, eyes pinned to the dirt like it could shield her from the gazes burning into her from every direction. Her silence was louder than any apology. And though she looked like a queen beside Theron hours ago, now she stood like a prisoner, one with no supporters and even fewer admirers.
No one would be vying for her hand now. Theron had weaponized her and, in doing so, shattered what little power she might’ve claimed on her own. She was a tool, discarded. A crownless queen among blades.
Dorian stepped toward Foran, his armor glinting in the morning light, posture rigid. The blue Striker shifted beneath him, wings half-furled, waiting. He was nearly in the saddle when Theron spoke again.
“Can’t you stay, brother?” Theron asked, forcing the words out like they tasted bitter. “It’s clear the riders wishyouto lead.”
Dorian turned his head, the look in his eyes cold enough to turn breath to ice. “I will leave the day-to-day politics to you,” he said. “But be warned, brother…”
He paused just long enough to let the words settle like coals in our lungs.
“If you come after Zander again, it will be war. And I’m not talking about the Blood Fae.”
The words cracked through the crowd like lightning. Theron took a half-step back, visibly shaken.
“You would actually go to war with First Guild over Zander?” Theron asked, incredulous. “He’s not worth it.”
Dorian mounted Foran in a single motion. The dragon’s wings shifted, and in that heartbeat of silence, Dorian’s voice rang as clear as a death sentence.
“He is worth it, Theron… and you of all people should fear that.”
Foran launched into the sky a moment later, blue flame searing the wind behind him. No one moved. No one breathed.
We were all left stunned.
I turned to Zander. “What is going on between them?”
Zander watched the skies, his jaw tight. “I have no idea,” he said quietly. “But I intend to find out.”
ChapterTwenty-One
The skies above us churned with color. Wings of red, emerald, silver, and brown cutting through the wind like banners of war and freedom. I turned my face to the sun, wind catching the ends of my hair as the dragons circled overhead in deliberate, sweeping arcs.
Major Ledor stepped forward, his voice loud and clear. “Free flight!”
The command echoed across the Ascension Grounds like a ripple of hope, and for the first time since I’d arrived at the guild… we were being given permission to ride not for battle, not for a test or punishment, but for joy.
I blinked, stunned.
We’d never been given that before.
Ledor’s green Catalan, Prian, landed with a heavy thud, scales shimmering like heated iron. There was no ceremony to it, no posturing or commands. Just the raw, honest yearning of a man who’d been too long grounded. He mounted in one fluid motion and took to the skies, his silhouette shrinking against the clouds.
Then came Crownwatch. Their dragons launched upward in waves, flame trailing behind a few of the more eager Strikers.
Warborn followed with green and blue tails slicing through the morning haze.
I felt someone behind me and turned in time to catch Remy. He hadn’t said a word, hadn’t moved toward me… just stood at the edge of his squad. Watching. His eyes locked on mine for the briefest second, unreadable.
Then he turned, mounted his dragon, and shot into the sky with Warborn.
And then the wind changed.
The air shimmered as Thrall Squad’s dragons descended from the clouds.
