“And we’re going to get her back.” I hold his gaze, letting him see the certainty I’m forcing myself to feel. “But not like this. Not with you burning down our own fortress. Selene needs you focused. She needs you strategic. Can you do that?”
The fire dims. Not completely—there’s still rage burning in every line of Drayke’s body—but enough that Rurik can release him without getting scorched. The Guardian King stands in the center of his destruction, breathing hard, looking more lost than I’ve ever seen him.
“War council,” he says finally. “Now.”
We gatherin the war room within the hour.
All four brothers. Two Fire-Bringers—Nasyra sits beside me, her thigh pressed against mine under the table, a point of contact that keeps me grounded. Aisling stands near the door, her medical bag within reach, her expression clinical in the way it gets when she’s processing trauma by focusing on what she can control. And at the head of the table, Drayke looms over the map of Lakhu’s territory like he’s planning to tear it apart with his bare hands.
The room feels smaller than usual. Charged with tension so thick, I can taste it—fury and fear and the desperate need to act.
“The message is clear.” Auren’s voice is cool, analytical. “Lakhu wants Nasyra in exchange for Selene. Sunset tomorrow gives us approximately thirty hours to comply.”
“We’re not trading her.” Drayke’s voice is a growl.
“Obviously not.” I keep my tone level, though my hand has found Nasyra’s under the table, our fingers interlacing. “But we need to understand what he actually wants before we can counter it.”
“I can tell you what he wants.” Nasyra’s voice cuts through the tension. “His mother.”
Every eye in the room turns to her.
She doesn’t flinch from the attention. Sits straighter, if anything, that fierce spine I fell in love with centuries ago holding her steady. “Queen Brinja died during Zyphon’s rampage after my death. Collateral damage.” She squeezes my hand, acknowledging the guilt that still lives in my chest. “Lakhu adored her. He’s been planning her resurrection ever since—and my specific combination of Fire-Bringer blood and innate magic is the only thing that can power a ritual of that magnitude.”
“So Selene is just leverage,” Rurik says, his usual humor stripped away. “Pressure to make us hand you over.”
“Yes and no.” Nasyra’s jaw tightens. “He’ll threaten to use her blood for a lesser ritual if we don’t comply. He can’t resurrect his mother with ordinary Fire-Bringer blood, but he can cause plenty of damage. Fuel dark magic. Make us suffer. And if we still refuse...” She trails off.
“He captures you anyway and gets what he really wanted,” Aisling finishes, her voice flat. “While we’re still mourning Selene.”
Silence falls over the table. Heavy. Suffocating.
“The trap is obvious,” Auren observes. “He knows we can’t comply. Knows we won’t sacrifice Nasyra. Which means this is designed to force our hand—to make us attack his stronghold on his terms, in his territory, at a time of his choosing.”
“Then we don’t play his game.” Drayke’s fist slams into the table, making the map tokens jump. “We attack before sunset. Hit him while he’s still expecting us to negotiate.”
“That’s still his territory,” Rurik points out. “His defenses. His forces. We’d be walking into a kill box.”
“Then we bring enough firepower to burn through it.” Drayke’s eyes blaze. “Full mobilization. Every dragon. Every weapon we have.”
“And leave the fortress undefended?” Auren shakes his head. “We have vulnerable people here. Staff. Support personnel. If Lakhu has forces waiting to flank us?—“
“Then we split our forces and accept the risk.” The words come out harder than I intend. “Selene doesn’t have the luxury of us debating tactics indefinitely. And Lakhu knows I’ll come for her—he’s counting on it. On me being desperate enough to make mistakes.”
“Not just you.” Nasyra’s voice is steel. “I’m coming.”
TWENTY-FOUR
ZYPHON
The room goes quiet.
I turn to look at her—really look at her. The set of her jaw. The fire burning in her eyes. The way she holds herself, straight and fierce, every inch the woman I love.
“Nasyra—“
“Don’t.” She cuts me off before I can form the argument. “Don’t you dare suggest I stay behind. This is my fight. Lakhu resurrected me, used me, twisted my memories to make me a weapon against people I care about.” Her hand tightens on mine under the table. “Selene held me while I fell apart. She and Aisling put me back together when I didn’t think I could be. I owe her more than hiding in the fortress while everyone else risks their lives.”
“You’d be walking into exactly what Lakhu wants.”
