Page 229 of A Reign of Chromes & Shadows

A cold ripple slid down Rain’s spine. The tug at his energy felt wrong––Too sharp. Too aware. Too… unpredictable. When Rain’s awareness brushed his, the male reacted instantly, a flicker of recognition sparking through him like a jolt of electricity.

Rain yanked his energy back on instinct, unsettled by the strange, magnetic pull he felt whenever he probed the male. It wasn’t just that he couldn’t get a clean read on him; it was that the male seemed to feel him in return.

That was dangerously unnerving. He regretted not seeing him as a threat last night, perhaps he could have prevented all of this.

Rain’s unease sharpened into suspicion. Something about the male felt off; not just hostile, but anticipatory, as though he had been waiting forRain to pry.

He observed the signature as the male shifted position, moving away from Jay and toward Drazier. A thrill of excitement radiated from him; unmistakable, sharp, eager. Rain felt it spike through the clearing like a blade.

The male must have whispered something to the Red King.

Drazier jolted.

Rain’s lips curled into a cold, humourless smirk.

Good.

Let him be unsettled.

Let him feel the first tremor of fear.

Drazier recovered quickly, issuing a silent command that rippled through the ranks. The male slipped away into the woods behind them, accompanied by a small squad. Rain tracked him until the smoke swallowed him whole.

His instincts prickled.

Whatever he is planning… it won’t be good.

He forced himself to refocus.

“It’s time,” Drazier’s rough voice boomed across the clearing.

Weapons clattered as soldiers snapped into formation. Drazier positioned himself directly behind Jay—using him as a shield—while the remaining aetherials formed a protective wall in front of their king.

Rain’s pulse hammered.

Jay.

He needed to see Jay.

A strange whirring noise rose from the centre of the clearing. It took Rain a moment to understand; the sound was both dry and wet, like a vacuum dragging through mud. Smoke began to spiral inward, siphoned from the air in a tightening vortex.

Rain’s stomach turned.

The Ember-like aetherial stepped into view—tall, dark, impossibly thin—his jaw unhinged far wider than anatomy should allow. Every tooth was visible as he inhaled the smoke in a grotesque whirlpool.

Rain swallowed hard, fighting the urge to gag. His breakfast threatened to revolt.

As the smoke cleared, every weapon in the clearing swung toward him.

He didn’t flinch.

He removed the stolen mask and set it on the table with deliberate calm. Then he crossed his arms over his chest, adopting a casual, almost bored stance; a calculated display of confidence meant to rattle them.

Only then did he allow himself to look at Jay.

He and his mother were bound to the flagpole like offerings left for a cruel god.

Thick ropes wrapped around their torsos in tight, unforgiving coils, digging into fabric and skin alike. The bindings pinned their arms harshly behind their backs, forcing their shoulders into an unnatural angle that made Rain’s own muscles ache in sympathy. Their hands were tied so tightly that their fingers had likely gone pale, the circulation compromised.