I turned slightly, just enough to see Naia move closer to Zander, followed by Tae and Riven, Ferrula stalking over with her usual silent fury. Jax fell into step just behind me, his broad presence grounding me with every movement.
They weren’t doing it for show.
They were doing it for protection.
For trust.
What the hell was happening?
I looked across the grounds to Iron Fang, expecting them to hold firm in their usual united, arrogant silence. And they did.
Mostly.
They stood slightly apart, unsure for the first time, shuffling, glancing between Theron’s absence and Kaelith’s raw, impossible display of power.
All of them looked uncertain?—
Except one.
Perin.
He didn’t move.
Didn’t whisper.
Didn’t blink.
He stared at me, his face carved in pure, boiling hatred.
As if Kaelith’s magic had confirmed something he already feared.
That I wasn’t just a commoner bonded to a rare dragon.
That I was something else entirely.
And in his eyes—I saw it.
He wanted me dead more now than ever.
Kaelith’s head lowered slowly, the eerie glow fading from her eyes. Her wings dropped with a heavythud, as if her magic had drained from her bones all at once.
The trance had ended.
But she wasn’t calm.
As Hein took a single step closer, Kaelith bared her teeth and let out a low, gutturalgrowl,deep enough to rattle the ground beneath our feet. A warning, not of danger, but of distance. Not even Hein was allowed too close right now.
“Remy is right,” a voice called out.
A Warborn rider, standing to the right of their commander, sneered as he crossed his arms.
“They’re unstable,” he said, just loud enough for the whole field to hear. “Both of them.”
My hands clenched at my sides, but my eyes went straight to Remy—who didn’t say a word.
He just watched.
And that was enough.
