Only angry.
Furious.
Auryn held her head high. “If the Resh’Agar does not protest, this session will be adjourned.”
Kailorien raised his hand, and the Council was called to a close.
One by one, the Councilors filed out of the Axis Hall, their flowing, ornate robes whispering over the white marble. Some turned to her as they left, bowing their heads. Others, like Draevan, ignored her entirely. And still, Kailorien didn’t turn. He could have been a statue.
Auryn exhaled slowly, her pulse still sharp in her throat. She didn’t move. Not even when the last of the shadows disappeared through the archway, leaving the hall cloaked in reverberant silence.
At her side, Lu’ma remained still as a pillar, her scrolls gathered in patient arms. From across the table, Kailorien finally stirred. Arms crossed, eyes shadowed beneath his lashes.
Auryn’s voice came quiet, thoughtful. “Six months ago, I would’ve bowed.”
Kailorien’s gaze flicked to her. “Six months ago, you weren’t ready.”
“I was. You just didn’t know it yet.”
The look on his face shifted—vigilance softening into quiet amusement.
“Well, you made quite an impression,” he drawled.
She didn’t meet his eyes. Not yet. Her heart was still recovering from what he’d whispered earlier, the echo of his Bond-voice lingering low in her belly. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing it. He was smug enough for one day.
“Good. Then I’ve accomplished what I wanted. There was opposition, but they’ll see reason.”
A beat.
Kailorien sighed. “I meant it as a compliment, but you should know I don’t approve of everything you said.”
“I don’t need you to compliment me. Just tell me the truth.”
He shifted in his seat, relaxing his stiff posture and running a hand through his hair. “Bringing up the temple resources? So soon? Auryn, that wasn’t part of our plan. These men have been walking around with blindfolds to keep their sanity, and you’re trying to tear them off all at once—to stick their faces in the mud of their surroundings. They won’t thank you for that.”
“Their resentment isn’t anything new,” she countered, turning to face him. “I’ve decided to face them, so they’ll stop throwing daggers at my back. I can block them from the front much easier.”
His blue eyes swirled dark. Conflicted. He stood from his chair and turned.
Her heart skipped with understanding. “Is that why you didn’t support my motion for the next session? Because you’re trying to keep me out of this?”
He made atsksound with his tongue. “Void take you, Auryn. You think you can win in one risky gambit? Againstthem?”
“It’s not about winning, Kailorien.” She shook her head. “This isn’t a game. It’s about survival. It’s about the people thatneed us.”
“You don’t understand.” His voice was sharp—worn. “You don’t know what it costs me to watch you make enemies so quickly.”
“No.Youdon’t understand,” her voice lowered, simmering like boiling water. “The cage will only defeat you the moment you stop fighting it.”
He took in her words, his expression unreadable. Then he looked away.
Auryn wasn’t about to let him run.
Not now.
She stood from her seat. Reaching up and pressing a gloved hand to his armored forearm, she rose onto her toes and cupped his face, refusing to let his silence be the final word.
“I won’t let you go through anotherEstâr.I won’t. Not if I have to—to—” She stopped. Reined in her fury, the fire of outrage and sorrow that filled her every time she remembered the way he came back after those rituals—empty and drained.
