I gave a slow nod, wiping any trace of emotion from my face.
“Then take me to him.”
He turned without another word, and I followed him silently, boots echoing off the cracked stone as we made our way back toward the throne room, toward Veralin, and whatever game he intended to play next.
The doors creaked shut behind me with a heavy finality, echoing like a warning across the vast obsidian chamber.
Veralin sat with an almost lazy poise on his black throne, his fingers curled around the armrests like talons waiting to tighten. The smile that unfurled on his face chilled me.
“I trust your reunion with the princess went well.”
“She appears unharmed,” I said carefully, though my voice held steel.
“And you met Veyna.”
My jaw clenched. “Yes. How you could treat your own granddaughter so callously is beyond me.”
His eyes sparked crimson, amused rather than insulted. “You will find power far more addicting than blood, Storm-born.”
“I doubt it.”
His smile widened, predator sharp. “Well,” he said, rising to his feet with eerie grace, “let’s test that theory.”
I didn’t move as he descended the dais, his robes trailing like smoke behind him. The room dimmed around him, not by shadow, but by presence. His power thickened the air, made it hard to breathe.
“I offer you a kingdom, Ashlyn,” he said, his voice a coaxing hiss. “A realm where dragons and fae kneel alike. I offer you thethrone beside me. Not as my puppet. Not as a pawn. As a queen. The rightful heir to two bloodlines.”
“I don’t want a throne,” I said, though the words came slower than they should’ve.
He laughed. “That’s the lie all rulers tell themselves before they realize what they are. Power has always been in your blood—ancient, dangerous, divine. Your magic calls dragons like war drums. Your presence weakens the wards that once kept me at bay. You’re not a mistake. You’re prophecy given flesh.”
I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. Not yet.
His voice softened, but it slithered through my thoughts like a promise wrapped in silk. “You could unmake Warriath and build something new from the ashes. You could end centuries of chains for our kind. Do you think the humans will ever truly accept you, Storm-born? You were born to rule, not to beg for a place at their table.”
My fingers curled tightly into fists.
He stepped closer, his eyes glowing. “Choose me, and I will give you everything. Your dragons, your friends, even your former fiancée… they will serve under your banner or burn.”
And for a fleeting moment, the blood in my veins pulsed with ancient power.
A kingdom.
A throne.
An empire of fire and storm.
But I looked him in the eye, my voice as steady as the flame in my chest.
My breath caught in my throat.
“How do you know so much about me?” I asked, forcing the words past the rising pulse of unease. “You knew I’d come. You knew about the wards, my power... everything”
Veralin strolled back to his throne, his black robes whispering over the floor like smoke on stone. When he satagain, it was with a sigh, like we were merely old friends sharing secrets.
“I have… a friend in the castle.”
My heart thudded, and Kaelith stirred in my mind, a low hiss of warning.A spy. One close enough to know the workings of the court and your background.
