Page 52 of Ash and Burn

Calix reached Ashspire just as the twin suns cast long shadows across the pyrestone facade, and what he saw made his dragon roar with murderous intent. Cevryn stood on the front steps of his ancestral home like he owned the place, flanked by two rogue dragon shifters who looked more like hired muscle than true warriors. The High Elder's silver-threaded hair remained perfectly arranged despite the chaos he'd orchestrated, and his pale blue eyes held the kind of satisfaction that made Calix's hands itch for his throat.

Arrogant bastard. Standing on my steps like he's already won.

What infuriated Calix most wasn't the audacity—it was how calm Cevryn appeared. No panic. No rush. Just the measured composure of a man watching his carefully laid plans unfold exactly as intended.

"Cevryn!" Calix's voice cracked across the distance like a whip.

The High Elder turned with surprise and descended the front steps with the unhurried grace of someone who believed himself untouchable. His expensive robes flowed around him like liquid shadow, and that damned smile never wavered.

"Oh, Your Majesty." Cevryn's tone carried mock delight. "I didn't expect to see you so soon. I thought you would be trying to save your people—like you've been trying to do for four months."

Four months of watching my people suffer while this snake orchestrated every moment.

Calix stepped closer, his dragon pressing against his human form with barely contained violence. The mate bond thrummed with Arvid's distant determination and fierce protectiveness, steadying him even as rage threatened to consume his rational thought.

"I know it was you." Each word dropped like molten stone. "I know you contaminated the flameroot fields. I know you manufactured Ash Fever. And I know you tried to have my mate killed."

Cevryn's laugh was soft and utterly without remorse. "Oh, looks like you caught me." He adjusted his cuffs with maddening casualness. "Although I must say, I never intended for Ash Fever specifically. I just thought people might get sick, Dorn would handle it, and I could create some public humiliation and distrust in your leadership along the way."

He's admitting it. Like it's a game to him.

"But it seems people love their flameroot tea," Cevryn continued, his pale eyes gleaming with something that might have been pride. "And my little contamination exploded into a proper outbreak. Quite beyond my expectations, really."

The casual dismissal of suffering—of death—sent fire through Calix's veins. His dragon clawed at his control, demanding blood, demanding vengeance for every life lost to this man's twisted ambition.

"People died because of you." Calix's voice dropped to something barely human. "People are still sick because of you. Children are lying in hospital beds because of you. What for? Because you wanted to prove a point? Because you wanted to overthrow me?"

Cevryn straightened, and his composure cracked enough to reveal the zealot beneath the politician. "I never meant for people to die, but yes—I wanted you out. You are a weak king, Calix. You discarded Sarah for a minor misstep. You never took a mate because you were scared. And scared kings make terrible leaders."

Sarah's betrayal wasn't a minor misstep.

But even as the thought formed, Calix recognized the grain of truth buried in Cevryn's accusations. He had been scared. Scared of losing someone else. Scared of the vulnerability that came with caring. Scared of failing the people he'd sworn to protect.

But not anymore.

The mate bond sang with Arvid's strength and her absolute refusal to back down from any challenge. She'd chosen him. Chosen this kingdom. Chosen to fight beside him instead of being protected by him. That choice had changed everything.

"I'm not scared," Calix said, and felt the truth of it resonate through his bones. "And I'm certainly not scared of you. I've protected this kingdom for fifteen years, and you couldn't accept that I am a great king despite my flaws."

Cevryn's smile turned razor-sharp. "Well, enjoy these last few moments, Calix, because your reign is about to be over very soon."

The words hit Calix like a battering ram, not because they carried threat, but because they carried finality. Cevryn wasn't here to negotiate or gloat. He was here to end something that had taken a millennium to build. The Undying Flame. He's going to try to extinguish the Undying Flame.

Calix's shift began before conscious thought completed. His human form dissolved in a rush of heat and power as his massive red dragon emerged, his scales gleaming like liquid fire in the afternoon light. His wingspan cast shadows across the entire front courtyard of Ashspire, and his green eyes blazed with the accumulated fury of four months of watching his people suffer.

He lunged for Cevryn with killing intent, but the High Elder proved faster than his measured composure suggested. Cevryn sprinted toward the front entrance while his two hired rogues shifted into their dragon forms—smaller than Calix but built for speed and coordination.

The first rogue, a mottled brown dragon with scarred wings, came at Calix from the left while the second, rich blue with yellow eyes, attacked from the right. They moved with the precision of dragons who'd fought together before, trying to pin his massive form between them.

They're trying to keep me occupied while Cevryn breaches Ashspire.

Calix twisted away from the brown dragon's claws and caught the blue one across the chest with his tail, sending it tumbling across the pyrestone courtyard. But the brown dragon recovered quickly, breathing a stream of orange fire that Calix barely avoided.

I need to end this quickly.

Through their mate bond, he felt Arvid's approach—her fierce determination, her battle-ready focus, and her absolute refusal to let anyone threaten what they'd built together. The sensation of her nearness steadied him even as it sent protective instincts spiking through his system.

Then he saw them. Ryx and Arvid raced toward Ashspire, her dark hair streaming behind her as she ran with the fluid grace of someone trained for war. Then in his peripheral vision, he caught Cevryn's form disappearing through the front entrance of Ashspire.