I watch as she works, her shadow-flame probing the ward’s edges, testing for weaknesses. It’s delicate work—one wrong move and the ward could destroy the journal entirely, taking whatever secrets it holds with it.
Five minutes pass. Ten. Then something shifts in the air, a subtle release of pressure, and the journal’s cover falls open of its own accord.
“Done.” Nasyra sits back, flexing her fingers. “Whatever’s in there, it’s yours now.”
Auren pulls the journal toward him and begins to read. His expression doesn’t change, but I’ve known him long enough to recognize the tension in his shoulders, the slight narrowing of his eyes.
“What is it?”
“Shadow Clan doctrine.” He turns a page, scanning the cramped handwriting. “Their philosophy. Their beliefs about Fire-Bringers, about claiming bonds, about the natural order of things.”
“Which is?”
Auren reads aloud, his voice flat: “’The Fire-Bringers were created to serve. Their blood is fuel; their power, a resource to be harvested. The claiming bond is an abomination—a perversion of the natural hierarchy that places dragon above human, master above cattle. Those who forget this truth weaken themselves and their kind.’”
Nasyra has gone very still. “Cattle.”
“That’s their term for Fire-Bringers, yes.” Auren continues reading, turning pages with careful precision. “According to this,the Shadow Clan believes the Brotherhood’s practice of claiming mates is a corruption of dragon nature. We’re supposed to use Fire-Bringers, not partner with them. Not love them.”
He pauses at a particular passage, his brow furrowing. “There’s more. Their doctrine includes specific punishments for dragons who... transgress. Who form attachments to their cattle.” His gaze flicks to me, sharp and knowing. “The punishments are designed to be prolonged. Educational. To serve as warnings to others who might be tempted to forget their place.”
The shadows inside me stir, responding to the description of their origin. I force them down.
“That’s what Lakhu told me.” Nasyra’s voice is quiet, but there’s an edge to it now. “That dragons only take. That claiming was ownership, not partnership. That I was valuable for my blood, nothing more.”
“Lakhu told you what the Shadow Clan believes,” I say. “It’s not truth. It’s ideology.”
Her gaze meets mine. “And what do you believe?”
The question hangs in the air between us. Auren watches with the focused attention of a scholar observing a particularly interesting specimen.
“I believe,” I say carefully, “that Fire-Bringers are our equals. Our partners. That a claiming bond is a gift given, not a right taken. And I believe the Shadow Clan’s philosophy has caused more suffering than any war they’ve ever fought.”
Something shifts in her expression. Not trust—not yet—but something adjacent to it. Consideration, maybe. The willingness to hear more.
Before she can respond, Auren sets down the journal with a pointed cough.
“As touching as this philosophical discussion is, we have more pressing matters.” He fixes me with a look I know too well.“The attack wasn’t random. Lakhu sent those forces specifically to test our defenses, and specifically to remind Nasyra that he can reach her anywhere.”
“I’m aware.”
“Are you? Because the Shadow Clan’s interest in her—and in you—goes back centuries.” Auren’s voice sharpens. “I need to understand that history if I’m going to predict what Lakhu will do next. Which means I need you to tell me what really happened that night.”
EIGHTEEN
ZYPHON
Igo still.
“You know what happened.”
“I know the basics. Nasyra was killed. You arrived too late to save her. The Shadow Clan placed some kind of affliction on you in the aftermath.” Auren’s expression doesn’t waver. “What I don’t know is why. What made them target her specifically. What made them hate you enough to create something designed to kill you slowly over centuries.”
“Auren—“
“This isn’t curiosity.” His voice cuts through my protest. “Lakhu’s father created whatever is eating you alive. That means Lakhu knows its weaknesses, its triggers, how to use it against you. If we’re going to fight him, I need to understand the weapon he already has.”
Nasyra is watching me. I can feel her attention like heat against my skin, waiting to see what I’ll say. What I’ll admit.
