Page 48 of Ash and Burn

"But trust didn't stop someone from poisoning my people. It didn't stop them from trying to kill her."

The air around them seemed to chill and Ryx's expression hardened. "You think the two are connected."

"I know they are." Calix's voice dropped to a dangerous register. "The contamination was deliberate. Four months of sickness, of death, and no one noticed the source. Or at least no one said anything. And now Cevryn vanishes? That's not a coincidence. It's a pattern. A hostile one."

They reached the heavy double doors of the council chambers. Inside, the vast room was quiet, only a few junior scribes organizing papers at the far end and Elder Toran, a portly man with a perpetually worried expression. He looked up from a ledger and scurried over, his robes whispering against the polished pyrestone floor.

"Your Majesty. Commander." Toran dipped his head.

"Elder Toran," Calix said, his tone leaving no room for pleasantries. "Cevryn. When did you last see him?"

Toran blinked, his hands fluttering. "Cevryn? Oh, let me think… two days ago, perhaps? At the briefings. He seemed… preoccupied."

"Did he mention traveling? Anything unusual?"

"No, Your Majesty. Nothing." Toran's brow furrowed. "Is there a concern?"

"Unlock his office," Calix commanded, ignoring the question.

Toran's unease was palpable. He hesitated, his loyalty to protocol warring with the absolute authority in Calix's green gaze. Protocol lost. "Of course. Right this way."

Several minutes later, they were standing inside Cevryn's office, the space a study in controlled austerity. Neat shelves, a perfectly organized desk, and chairs positioned at precise angles. It smelled of polished wood and old parchment. But worse, it smelled like calculation.

"What exactly are we looking for in here?" Ryx murmured, his eyes scanning the room.

"A mistake," Calix said flatly.

Calix went straight for the desk. The central drawer was locked but Calix wrapped his fingers around the ornate handle and twisted hard. The metal groaned, then shattered in his grip, and Calix pulled the drawer open.

Beneath a stack of council reports were other papers. Receipts. He lifted them out and started scanning them for anything unusual. Calix soon realized these receipts were not for office supplies or council expenses. These were from chemical suppliers on the southern trade routes, dated four months ago. Orders for compounds used in industrial-grade soil sterilization. Another, a letter of authorization for 'crop management services' in the flameroot fields, signed with Cevryn's elegant, spidery script.

His blood began to simmer, a slow, primal heat building behind his sternum.

Then he saw the other slip of parchment. A separate, much shorter list. Names he didn't recognize. Mercenary guilds from the outer territories. Beside them, notations of payment. And a single, chilling line of instruction: Handle Dr. Arvid Jasper discreetly.

The world narrowed and white-hot rage flooded his system. The paper crumpled in his fist. His dragon roared, demanding action, demanding the threat to his people and his mate be handled.

Poison the fields. Harm my people. Hire mercenaries to harm my mate.

Cevryn hadn't just disagreed with his rule. He had declared war. A silent, cowardly war fought with toxins and hired men. He had watched children like Essin sicken. He had watched his king drown in helpless grief.

All to prove a point? To manufacture a failure?

Calix's vision tinged red at the edges. He wanted to shift. He wanted to tear the roof from this building of lies and soar into the sky, his roar shaking the stones of Ashvorn apart until the traitor was dragged from whatever hole he'd crawled into.

He was about to speak, to order Ryx to mobilize every enforcer, to lock down the territory, when Arvid's voice sliced through his thoughts, clear and sharp as broken glass.

Calix, help us. There's a breach here.

His breath nearly stopped. The completed bond, so new and wondrous, flooded with a surge of her adrenaline and her focused fear. Not panic but combat readiness.

I'm on my way. Get to safety now, he pushed the thought back, pouring all his will into it.

He turned to Ryx, the crumpled receipts falling from his hand like ashes. "The medical facilities are under attack."

Ryx didn't ask how he knew. He saw the transformation in Calix's face—the king receding and the protector surging forward with a terrifying, single-minded intensity. Ryx yanked his communicator from his belt, barking orders into it even as he fell into step beside Calix, who was already rushing for the door.

"All units! Breach at the Hearthring medical facilities! Hostiles possible! Secure the perimeter! Now!"