Page 230 of A Reign of Chromes & Shadows

Strips of coarse fabric had been pulled across their mouths and knotted behind their heads, the gags biting into the corners of their lips. Every shallow breath they managed caused the cloth to strain against their faces, dampened by sweat and fear.

Their heads hung forward, chins nearly touching their chests, as though the weight of exhaustion alone kept them from lifting their gaze. Strands of hair clung to their foreheads and temples, plastered there by perspiration and the oppressive heat of the smoke-filled air. The breeze tugged weakly at the loose ends, but neither of them reacted.

Their eyes—when they flickered open—were the worst of all.

Wide, glassy, unfocused.

Not vacant in the sense of emptiness, but in the way of people who had been pushed past their limit.

Eyes that had seen too much, too quickly.

Eyes that were still seeing the fear, even now.

Jay’s gaze, when it finally found Rain, trembled with a mixture of disbelief and desperate hope. His mother’s eyes barely managed to lift at all, her strength clearly waning.

Rain felt something inside him twist sharply; a cold, violent knot of fury and protectiveness that settled deep in his chest. Their posture, their stillness, the way they sagged against the ropes… it all screamed of terror, exhaustion, and the kind of helplessness he had sworn Jay would never feel again.

Rain’s throat tightened painfully.

He pushed away from the table and stepped into the clearing, posture loose, movements unhurried. He let his gaze sweep across the assembled forces, taking in every face, every stance, every trembling hand on a weapon.

He wanted them to see him.

To feel him.

To understand exactly what they had provoked.

He was done running, done protecting them from him.

And Drazier was about to learn what it meant to face Rain Royale when he was in complete control of his power and utterly, terrifyingly furious.

“I must say, this is not a very welcoming—welcome, for an invited guest.”

Rain’s voice carried across the clearing with a light, almost bored cadence, the kind of tone that made the hairs on the back of every neck stand on end. He thrust his hands casually into his pockets, shoulders loose, posture relaxed; a deliberate contrast to the sea of weapons trained on him.

“I’d heard better things about your hospitality, Drazier. I must have been misinformed.”

His gaze flicked lazily toward Jay, bound and trembling. “Then again, judging by how you treat your own citizens…” He lifted a brow pointedly. “I shouldn’t have had such high expectations.”

The bait landed.

Drazier stepped into view, smoke curling from his nostrils like an omen. He was taller than Rain, though not broader, his presence imposing in a way that relied more on theatrics than true power. His skin was a deep, dusky shade; lighter than Scarlet’s but unmistakably of the same lineage. Tight curls framed his head beneath a tall, cuboid golden crown, and his beard was knotted with red and gold jewels that glinted in the thinning smoke.

He scowled, voice cracking like a whip.

“They are traitors!”

Jay flinched violently at the shout, turning his head away. Rain felt the suppressed whimper ripple through Jay’s energy; a sound Jay didn’t allow to escape his throat, but one Rain felt as clearly as if it had been spoken aloud.

Rain’s smile sharpened.

“I suppose your daughters were traitors too, right? They must have deserved the despicable treatment you subjected them to.”

A ripple of confusion passed through the Red soldiers. They leaned in, hanging on Rain’s every word.

“Especially that little one. What an absolute menace.” Rain tapped his chin thoughtfully. “What was her name? Ah yes. Ember.”

Drazier snarled, the reaction instant and visceral. Rain’s grin widened; this was too easy.