“Understood.”
The sketch goes last—Alerie’s likeness curling into ash, disappearing as if it never existed.
She’s—
Mine.
The possession settles into my bones with the finality of a brand.
No more.
A knock comeson my chamber door. I bank my power before turning.
“Enter.”
Corveth steps through, expression rigidly professional. “The intelligence extraction is complete. The survivor from the forge site provided additional details about the containment protocol. I’ve already briefed your deputy, Saelith, on the movement patterns so he can adjust the patrol coordination.”
“Good. What else?”
“They’re building seven sites total. We destroyed one tonight—the forge district location. Six remain operational.” He pauses. “The designs are specifically calibrated for Vireth magic. Anyone else they captured would be collateral. The primary target is the witch.”
The witch.As if she’s anyone. As if I haven’t restructured the entire operation around keeping her breathing.
“Locations?”
“She’s working on narrowing them down. Using the cascade patterns and the captured documents to?—”
“She?”
“The Vireth witch.” Corveth’s expression flickers—the smallest tell that he’s noticed my reaction and is choosing not to address it. “She requested access to the recovered intelligence as soon as it arrived. I assumed you’d want her analyzing it immediately.”
A reprimand rises to my lips for the assumption. Decisions about prisoner access flow through me, not around me. I need to do anything except stand here feeling relief that she’s working,that she’s engaged, that she’s doing what she does best instead of dwelling on the danger closing around her.
“Good,” comes out rougher than I intend. “Keep me informed of any developments.”
“Yes, Enforcer.”
I remain at the window, staring at a city I no longer recognize, thinking about a woman I can no longer pretend not to need.
SEVENTEEN
ALERIE
The Cinder Throne Hall swallows me whole.
I stand near one of the columns, positioned where I can observe without drawing attention. A strategic choice—the same positioning I’ve used in a hundred similar situations. Be present enough to gather information, invisible enough to avoid becoming a target.
It’s not working today.
Every dragon in this hall knows who I am. Knows what I am. The looks I’m receiving aren’t the dismissive glances afforded to human servants or the clinical assessment given to valuable assets. They’re evaluating. Measuring. Trying to determine exactly how much leverage I represent.
She’s the Enforcer’s witch.
I can almost hear them thinking it. Can see it in the way their attention flicks between me and the raised platform where Izan stands with the council’s senior members, facing Kaelreth with the careful stillness of combatants measuring range.
Kaelreth’s voice carries through the hall’s strange acoustics, measured and deliberate.Transfer her. Collective custody. Remove the distraction from the Enforcer’s operational capacity before it compromises the war effort further.
The worddistractionlands like a slap. I watch Izan’s eyes flare—not ember-gold but edging toward volcanic red—and for a heartbeat, I think he’s going to kill Kaelreth right here, in front of the entire council.
