The words landed shrill. Ronan flexed his fingers, then squeezed them both into fists.
“It’s not as bad here as you pretend,” Aero said. “Not anymore.”
That was when the darkness surged. Ronan’s power climbed his frame, wrapping him in murk, leaving only his face uncovered. “Aelora deserves better.”
Aero didn’t move, only folded his arms across his chest, as though smoke and threat meant nothing to him. “No kidding,” he added with a scoff. “I remind her every day.” Then, softer, he winked. “Fatherly obligations.”
Thunder rolled overhead, splitting the sky where shadows broke through the clouds. Their vast silhouettes blurred in and out, wings cutting through as they swept against the dusk.
Five, maybe more, rising from Sahfyre’s peak, circling.
Dragons.
Two dove from the cliff’s edge, plummeting before their wings snapped open with bone-deep force.
Beneath Ronan’s skin, his dormant soul stirred, itching along his spine. His heart thudded with the old instinct, the old deprivation.
It had been weeks since he had taken to his true form in Luamis. Weeks since he’d let the clouds claim him.
But twenty years since he’s felt his own kingdom’s air beneath him.
The sea called to him now. But the sky... the sky dared.
Even one flight over Ryuu would be enough, to signal the message he was not here to spread.
That the heir prince had returned. That he was prepared to claim what waited on the throne.
Vapor curled tighter around him, then retreated, sliding back to unveil his shoulders, his chest. They lingered there, like hands. Like chains.
He opened his mouth to speak, knowing it was the reason Aero sought him out in the first place. “Elysian tells me more of the Kaida have gone missing.”
The vapor slithered downward, around his legs, his feet, ready to lift him skyward if he so much as commanded.
Aero’s face shuttered, the calm at last replaced by hardness. “Did he also tell you how many reports I’ve sent?”
He had. Every damned one. If Ronan had believed any of them dire enough to force his return, he would have come sooner.
Aero exhaled, gaze shifting toward the fortress. “It’s not just the Kaida anymore.” Ronan’s head snapped toward him. “Mimics too,” Aero noted. “They’ve started vanishing the same way. Quiet. Untraceable. As though they were never there.”
The words sank, bitter seawater as Ronan swallowed, falling into step with Aero as they coasted along the shoreline. “How are you sure?”
“Mimics are vastly misunderstood,” Aero murmured, almost to himself. “I used to watch them in the Firen Forest. Wondrous creatures, so curious and clever. Shifting into whatever form amused them—”
Ronan’s snort cut him clean. “Interesting. I know another breed who was imprisoned for such a trait.”
Aero’s eyes narrowed. “Elysian was rightfully freed.”
Ronan bared teeth, just a flash, reminding him who tore the kingdom apart, who sacrificed, to buy that freedom.
Aero sucked in a sharp breath, shoulders rising. “I know they don’t compare. I know the mimics are overpopulated, that they can drive breeds to extinction. That’s not the point.” His tone softened, pride finding its way in despite the grim topic. “I studied them, I learned their patterns, their quirks. Even their weaknesses. I can spot a mimic in any crowd, in any form. That is how I noticed the sudden decline.”
Ronan’s silence said enough about his disinterest on the topic. Aero caught it, the tension written across Ronan’s jaw, but pressed on anyway.
“Regardless,” he continued, “I’ll be sending a small team after the Kaida. The mimics won’t tip the balance, but the Kaida…” Air eased from his chest. “If they vanish, the realm will feel it.Youwill feel it too, Ronan.”
A wave broke higher along the sand, brushing Ronan’s ankles, whispering in its pull. All he gave was a curt nod.
“I wish to send Inessa and Kanoa.” Aero moved back from the tide. “Perhaps one or two others. To search, quietly.”
