“They likely know exactly where we’re headed.” Ronan dragged a finger across the tattered map of Selvarra. “They may be waiting for us at Nyctom’s border. May be ahead of us. Or even beneath us. Either way, we prepare for anything and everything.”
Callum’s voice slid over his. “What if this is the diversion? What if their real target is Sahfyre?” His glow was gone, the once-golden fire in his eyes dimmed to tired amber. “They could gut the throne while we continue to chase the heir.”
“Sahfyre will hold,” Ronan said. “Aero has warned the other dragon clans. They’ve been summoned. They’ve been waiting.” He paused, the next words carried by gravity. “They will answer.”
They’ve been waiting for war.
“What about resin iron?” I asked. “If they use it, the dragons can’t fly or shift. They’ll fall from the skies.”
Ronan looked at me, and the calm in his stare was more frightening than any fury. “Then they’ll fight from the ground.” He folded the map, handing it to Callum, who tucked it into his pack. “Killian found a weakness in Nyctom’s wards. A tear big enough for all of us to slip through unseen.”
Killian gave a mocking bow. “You’re welcome.”
Ronan didn’t bother with gratitude. “Gather what you need. We leave now.”
The air thickened with unspoken dread. And as the camp moved, I watched Ronan. He wasn’t looking at any of them. Only at me.
He held my gaze, something in his eyes shifting—already seeing the truth I’d been trying to hide. Like he knew exactly what I was about to give up.
He went still, too controlled, locking everything in place.
Fuck. He knows.
One by one, our footsteps struck the ground, a drumbeat to whatever waited on the other side of the dark’s veil. All of us were cloaked in weapons and purpose. All of us fighting for something we believed in.
Elva moved beside me, her hand brushing mine, our shadows merging into one shifting form against the stone realm. Light pulsed beneath her skin, freckles sparking ivory.
“It’s getting stronger,” I said, watching the flicker grow. I prayed we wouldn’t need it.
Her lips curved, but not with joy. “Only a little. We’ve been practicing. Brick by brick, freeing it from its cage.”
“It’s not a cage,” I told her. “It’s a forge. It’s in you, Elva. You’re not broken.” She hesitated and I caught her arm, forcing her to meet me. “One day soon, it will consume everything in your way, and you’ll be magnificent.”
The faintest spark caught behind her eyes. Hope, or maybe fear. They were often the same thing.
Ahead of us, Wells walked in silence alone, his shoulders squared, posture tighter. He didn’t carry himself like a boy anymore, more like someone who’d already seen the cost of survival and was still paying it. The way his head scanned side to side, the way he inhaled tofeelrather than smell, it looked as though he was memorizing the world.
I closed the gap between us, my boots quiet on the gravel. “You okay?”
He looked over his shoulder, brown eyes leaden with exhaustion. A half smile tugged at his mouth. “I’m alive. That’s more than I expected a few months ago.”
I tried to smile back, but my throat bobbed. Because I knew what he wasn’t saying—that living didn’t feel like surviving anymore.
Nudging his arm with my elbow, I teased, “Look at you now, though. You were made to be part of our Order. You should feel proud.”
The smile he offered was weak, but the strength of his voice surprised me. “I am. Coming with you all, it forced me to grow faster than I would’ve. Honestly, faster than I wanted to.” His eyes were still rimmed red, glassy but not broken. “But it’s good,” he said, more to himself than me. “I was stuck before. Scared of my magic. Of people. Of everything, really. I think I would’ve stayed invisible forever, if…”
If I hadn’t been taken. If they hadn’t burned our home to the ground. If he hadn’t been dragged into my chaos.
I slowed, reaching for his hand. “Wells…”
He lifted a hand, stopping me before I could let it fall. “Don’t,” he murmured. “You don’t need to say it.” The muscles in his jaw tensed before a breath escaped him. “You took something from me.” Oh gods. “But what came after, whatreplacedit, was something I wouldn’t have found otherwise. So, thank you.”
“Thank you?” My brow furrowed. “For what?”
He gave a humorless laugh. “You weren’t the only one afraid, Verena. That pain was real for both of us. But so was the change. I learned to surviveit. To endure it. And in the end, believe it or not, I think it was you who made me braver.”
The sting behind my eyes burned hot. I blinked fast, willing it away. “You shouldn’t have had to be so brave.”
