Elysian’s nostrils flared, the blue in his eyes icing over as he said, “Death.” His eyes shot toward where the trees breathed, toward the fog that hung there.
Ronan chuckled, looking skyward for too long. “That is obvious.”
Elysian’s eyes narrowed then, his tone dropping deeper. “No. What did this…isdeath.”
Tension tugged at the corner of Ronan’s mouth before he forced it into a straight line. His mind worked, slow at first, confusion scratching. But realization crawled up his spine, cold and cautious.
“Ronan—" Elysian drew a hand forward, where rain-soaked parchment lay, the ink bleeding into black. “We need to get back to Ryuu. Aero has sent message after message about the missing Kaida, each one more dire than the last.”
The Kaida—small dragons native only to Ryuu. Rare as a dragon choosing to kneel and hunted for centuries for their blood, their tears, their flesh.
Tears that could heal. Blood that could unmake. Their scarcity had made them sacred, untouchable.
And now they were vanishing.
Ronan turned away from him, letting the water wash every sin away.
A ripple moved under Elysian’s neck, skin forming to fur, white and thick, eyes flaring electric. “You freed me from your father’s service.” The words, spoken from memory, found their place under Ronan’s skin. “And that freedom made me unshakable in allegiance, but it didn't make me blind. You’re running.”
Ronan’s head turned sharply. “You think I’ve forgotten? The chains, the way they paraded you like something to tame? That wasn’t for allegiance—”
Elysian huffed a laugh. “You cut the shackles, my prince. You didn’t change the world that built them.”
Ronan’s jaw tightened as he stole a glance toward Ely without meeting his eyes. “I’m trying.”
“That world doesn’t want saving,” Elysian murmured, shifting a step closer. “It needs a ruler who still believes in ruling.”
“I’ve seen what rulers become—” The words came through clenched teeth. “If the throne thinks it still owns me, it is mistaken. I am not its weapon any longer. I am its reckoning.”
Elysian tilted his head, the glow of his eyes catching through the mist. “Reckonings come with a cost. Make sure you’re ready to pay it.” Softer, he said, “Taking the throne won’t turn you into him, Ronan. The dragons need a king. You carry his blood; you were born for this—"
Ronan turned, meeting his stare head-on. “Then the blood is the burden.”
The branches above them groaned in the wind, scattering droplets like shards of glass.
Elysian’s jaw worked, pale leathered wings shooting from his back. “You can’t keep fighting what’s already written.”
“I’m not fighting it.” Ronan’s steps closed the space between them. “I’m rewriting it.”
Lightning split the clouds in the distance, flashing across their faces. The reflection of flame and frost. Elysian’s wings flared instinctively.
“And when Ryuu falls because of your stubbornness?”
Ronan’s stare jerked away, toward the trees where the shadows deepened. “You think I don’t fear that every godsdamned day? I don’t want a throne,” he whispered. “I want... redemption.”
Elysian’s wings folded back, going still. “Then you’ll have neither.”
Ronan rolled his shoulders, the crack of bone hinting at the dragon beneath. “Very well.” He didn’t take the parchment still in Ely’s grip, only ignored the hand stretched toward him. “You return to Ryuu and meet with Aero.”
Thunder answered him, rolling across the trees.
If Elysian was surprised by the orders, he didn’t show it. His eyes only flitted back to the carcass where rot had quickened, the doe collapsing in on itself until it was more bone than flesh.
Death was spreading too fast.
Finally, raising his voice above the storm, he asked, “When will you return?”
Ronan flexed his hand once, murky tendrils curling from its center. “If I’m not back in three days’ time, you have permission to hunt me down, hound.”
