Page 27 of A Broken Ember

“There isn’t much to tell. I completed Tamela’s Circle a long time ago.” I shrugged, staring down at the roaring fire; the heat of the prince’s gaze was more intense. That answer wouldn’t be enough. I sighed. “She was beautiful. Beautiful and kind. Clotho and her were close. Inseparable, really. They would fly together for hours after spending the day fighting and learning the ways of a Janardan. My sister adored her. Everyone did. Our mother was so strong.”

Anastasius hummed, content to listen to me.

“When I was a babe, she taught me to shift, to fly, by dropping me over the ocean.” I snorted at the memory. “Father was furious, but she just shrugged and stated if I couldn’t save myself I wasn’t worthy of the Circulus. I will never forget the freedom and the fear of that first flight.”

“Who taught your sister to fly?” Anastasius asked.

A smile tugged at the corner of my mouth at the memory. “I did.”

Anastasius had a light in his eyes and a soft smile that was easy to return. “How?”

“I took her deep within the Neutral Strip and left her there. I told her if she didn’t fly home soon, the De Vita would Save her. A few days later, she returned, thanked me, and we haven’t spoken of it since.” The experience had lit a fire in her eyes that still burned. Anastasius was quiet after that. I glanced at his face to see if he was upset, but his eyes were distant, unseeing. I felt the need to defend our customs. “We survived, and we’re stronger for it.”

“I see that,” the prince grunted. He stretched out by the fire, laying his head down on a bundle of clothes. He closed his eyes without another word. I was stunned by his change in mood. The story wasn’t a rare one in the Circulus. It was our way of life: we constantly tested ourselves to ensure we were strong enough to continue our Circle. I huffed and laid down. His brooding stirred feelings within me that I didn’t understand and thoughts I was too cowardly to acknowledge.

At dusk on the last day before the second trial, Anastasius invited me to fly with him again. Neither Calian nor his minions had followed us since that day in the infirmary, and I still hadn’t bothered to ask why. To do so felt like tempting fate. So I appreciated the freedom in silence.

The sun was sinking beyond the dunes of the Sand Eye, becoming a distant star. The dying light mesmerized me as it reflected off his scales. For once, I was entranced not by the color of blood calling to me in the sky but the black calm that was him. I soaked in everything about him. If I could grin in draconis, I would, but instead I released a satisfied rumble.

We flew side by side over the rolling sand dunes for hours. When the sun was hidden, we approached the shoreline of an endless ocean. The waves lapped at the sandy shore, gentle compared to the crashing anger of the ocean back home. Anastasius landed on the beach, and I dropped next to him, snorting my question: what are we doing?

He brought his snout to mine, breathing my scent in deeply and washing me in his. Even in draconis he smelled of spice and sunshine. It was intoxicating. Intimate. A purr rumbled in his chest, making my heart race. I wanted to make more sounds like that come from him. I brushed my snout along his jaw, traveling along his neck until my head was settled between his wings. His scales were so warm, relaxing the tension in my spine. My breaths fell into a soothing lull, matching his. In my hazy state, my eyes slipped closed as the sounds of the ocean swept back and forth over us, the waves brushing our talons with kisses and sand. Pure bliss.

I opened my eyes when Anastasius adjusted his position slightly and yawned. A few thoughts hit me all at once: I hadn’t had any nightmares. We were in draconis, and my neck was vulnerable. The last thought didn’t alarm me as it should have, which frightened me. Draconis didn’t expose their necks to anyone. Ever. Not even their Entwined. Yet I had, and again it felt… right. I gently pulled away from the warm and comfortable crook of Anastasius' neck.

He yawned sleepily before giving me a goofy look that almost appeared to be a smile. He nuzzled my jaw with his snout before spreading his claws in a big stretch. I blinked at him, stunned by the casual interaction. Slowly, I followed his lead and stretched next to him. Our wingtips brushed, jolting me with excitement despite having just been in an intimate embrace all night. Eventually, after sharing a fish we caught, we took to the skies to return to the De Vita and complete the trial. I still had no idea what to expect, but I would pass.

I flew behind the prince on our return to De Vita, enjoying the view of his grand wing arches, silver-tipped talons, and muscled form. Mine. The single thought banished all my worries. I didn’t care what I had to do to make it so, but I would do it. I would tell Anastasius the truth and risk his hatred.

When we arrived at the stronghold the castle was devoid of outward activity, the guards normally stationed at the entrance gone. Anastasius seemed to register the change and darted for his balcony. Upon landing, he shifted, making room for me to do the same. Once my draconis was banished, I opened my mouth to voice the feelings stirring within me, but the prince spoke first.

“Do not speak of what happened last night to anyone,” he whispered urgently. “I cannot stand the thought of being separated from you again, or of Calian lurking around every corner again.” I furrowed my brows. His eyes appeared moonless, their pale centers impossibly dark. “I have to go. Someone will bring you food and something to wear. Rohit will collect you when it is time for the trial.” He strode out of the room before I could question him or make any of my declarations.

An hour later, I hadn’t eaten anything that the fledgling had brought, but I had donned the new outfit allotted to me. It was nearly identical to the garb from the first trial. My fingers graced the burn on my neck, which had all but healed over the last few weeks.

A knock at the door made me jerk my eyes up. A man finely dressed in light armor stepped into the room. He had a burst of fiery red hair and stubble along his jaw. His green eyes narrowed, and we studied each other silently for a moment. “Glad to see you are healing well, Ruptor.” He dropped my title, making my stomach fall and my eyes widen. My fists clenched at my sides, prepared to fight. He waved a hand. “Be at peace, Claeg. You have nothing to fear from me.”

I didn’t relax. “You know who I am.”

“I do.”

I cursed. My gut clenched at the thought.

“How did you find out?” I asked, refusing to answer the obvious but unvoiced question. The man folded his arms and refused my question. Fair.

“If you hurt him . . .” He trailed off, but the threat was clear.

“You’ll what? What can you do that they haven’t already done to me? I have lost everything,” I growled, taking a menacing step toward him. I wasn’t armed, but that didn’t matter. My body was a weapon. He chuckled darkly.

“You’ve lost nothing, Ruptor.” I stilled. A challenge burned in his eyes. Did he suspect my purpose? “Don’t cross us, Circulus. You will regret it.” Us. There was something there. This man obviously had strong feelings for his prince. Jealousy flared in my belly. “Come, Ruptor.”

“I don’t know your name.” And you know mine, I added silently.

“I am Rohit,” he said simply and whirled out of the room without checking to see if I followed.

He brought me to a room I hadn’t seen much of, just a brief glimpse—the throne room. Today, it was crammed with people, all wearing extravagant outfits with colors that I thought were only available in the Circulus territory and Neutral Strip. It seemed unlikely that fancy dyes were what they were after outside their borders. Especially after recalling the discussion I had overheard between Anastasius and the old draconis—they hunted for a who, not a what, of that I was nearly certain. But not everything De Vita did made sense. Odon was unpredictable—a form of strength I was forced to respect.

Rohit marched right up to the front of the room, where Anastasius and Odon were seated in cushioned thrones made of fine metals. The pair were dressed alike, in dark green silks, but their differences couldn’t be more obvious. If I hadn’t known better, I would think they weren’t of each other’s blood. Anastasius’ long, dark hair was wrapped around his head in a beautiful imitation of a dias, unlike Odon’s, whose light hair was cropped short to his scalp under a crown of teeth. The prince’s eyes were dark, a contrast to Odon’s, which were amber. Neither had weapons visible on them, but guards flanked their sides. I doubted it was a necessary precaution. The people here looked at the father and son with adoration in their eyes. I surveyed the room, spotting Janus and Oriana kneeling before Odon. The third woman was nowhere to be seen. Odon’s eyes scrutinized me. Had Rohit told him I wasn’t Eleos but rather Claeg?

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