Above us, Jax and Koddos moved in to surround the flailing Narvea, Jax shouting commands in a voice I could barely hear over the chaos. The green Clubtail shrieked again, disorientedand shaking midair, but no longer trying to toss anyone from her back.
“She’s affected by the smoke,” I breathed. “It’s messing with her mind.”
Ferrula’s voice trembled in my ear. “I couldn’t reach her. It was as if someone else was in her head.”
I held her tighter. “It is imperative that we identify them.”
Siergen’s voice poured through our minds like moonlight over still water.Narvea, come back to us. Your rider needs you. We need you.
It wasn’t a command. It wasn’t even magic as I understood it.
It was… warmth. A pull that wrapped around us like a memory. Something deep and ancient, threading through bone and bond alike. I felt it in my chest. In my breath. As if Kaelith’s heart had become my own.
What is that?I whispered, stunned.
That,Kaelith said, her voice soft with reverence,is my brother’s power. His soul. The power of the dragon leader. Our king.
Around us, I felt Thrall Squad falter—Cordelle’s awe, Jax’s shock, even Naia’s breath catch. They hadn’t known. But now… now they understood. Siergen wasn’t just the oldest. He wasn’t just wise or strange or revered.
Heledthem.
And he had called Narvea home.
The green Clubtail wobbled mid-air, her wings giving one final twitch before she angled downward, gliding heavily through the smoke. Koddos broke formation and followed her down like a sentry. I watched, my pulse steadying, as Narvea landed hard near a stretch of blackened grass, her head drooping as she collapsed gently to her side.
She’s alive,Kaelith confirmed.Weak. But safe.
We landed moments later. Kaelith’s talons bit into the scorched earth, and I slid from her back before my feet had fully touched the ground.
Ferrula was already moving.
She darted across the field without hesitation, her feet barely making a sound as she crossed the blackened soil and dropped to her knees beside Narvea’s massive head. Her hands stroked the mottled green scales with such tenderness it made my throat ache.
“I’m here,” she whispered, pressing her forehead to Narvea’s snout. “I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere.”
Narvea let out a low, trembling breath, but it held no fire.
Behind me, the others dismounted in silence, the moment too sacred for noise.
I stepped closer, watching Ferrula cradle her dragon’s snout, her lips moving in soft reassurances only Narvea could hear. But the bond pulsed around them—real, vivid, alive.
And I finally understood what Siergen had meant. His magic wasn’t in spells or elements.
It was in unity.
And with it… he could bring even the most broken dragon back from the edge.
“What was that?” I asked, my voice low as I stared at Narvea’s prone form, Ferrula still curled beside her as if she could hold her together with sheer force of will.
Dark magic,Kaelith answered, and her voice was more growl than whisper.Not the kind used to kill. The kind meant to twist. To corrupt. To break a dragon’s will and remake it in the caster’s image.
I stared at her. “You mean… to turn them feral?”
Yes,she hissed, and her wings twitched, agitated.And the unbonded must be protected. They have no defense against this kind of spell.
I turned slowly, scanning the skies, the ruins of the charred outpost, the worried faces of my squad. “The Blood Fae… they’re targeting the unbound.”
Of course they are. A bonded dragon has their rider to anchor them. But a free one? Their minds are vulnerable. Their instincts… exploitable. If we lose the unbound?—
