Page 8 of Tempest Rising

His lips twitched with amusement, but there was something feral behind his gaze now—a gleam that warned of a game in which only he truly knew the rules. “Oh, I’m sure you are, Kane. But my tastes, you see, are quite refined. Coins bore me. Artifacts... tedious. Magic? I have plenty of my own.” He leaned in, just slightly, his black eyes locking onto mine with unnerving focus. “What I want, Ellesar, is clarity.”

I stiffened, but not visibly. Lorcan didn’t miss much; any crack in my armor now would be a signal to exploit. “Clarity about what?”

“Tempest Whittaker,” he said casually, though the weight behind his words was deliberate. “Soul Resonance.”

The very air seemed to still further, the faint breeze dying at the mention of the term. I tightened my jaw, my mind whirring. He knew. Or at least, he thought he did. The question now washow much.

“You always did have a knack for peddling nonsense,” I said evenly, though my fingers curled into fists deep in my coat pockets.

Lorcan’s grin widened as he stepped closer, closing the space between us. “Don’t insult me, Kane. I deal in shadows, yes, but even shadows have their truths. Soul Resonance,” he repeated, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. “A phenomenon thought extinct. A bond that elevates the Rider as much as the dragon. Intimate, inseparable, and oh-so dangerous.” He tilted his head, his raven-sharp gaze narrowing slightly. “Tell me—how does it feel, having that kind of chaos circling so close? Especially now?”

I didn’t answer for a long moment, weighing my response as though walking a tightrope. A wrong step would not only cost me leverage but potentially expose Tess to even more danger than she was already in. Lorcan would love nothing more than to exploit it.

Finally, I spoke, my voice low and sharp. “Even if it were true—hypothetically, of course—it would be a dangerous rumor to confirm. Existence isn’t proof of inevitability.”

Lorcan hummed lightly as though the conversation were merely academic, but the knowing smirk plastered on his face told me he understood the weight of my words. “Ah, I see. Deny the storm, but prepare for it anyway. Smart move, Ellesar. But thenagain, you wouldn’t beyouif you weren’t already calculating your next ten steps.”

“What I’d be,” I countered tersely, “is a man who doesn’t barter more than necessary. Now, can you do it? Monitor her. Catalog the figures interested in her bond and the dragon. Background details. Nothing more.”

“Nothing more? Such self-restraint.” He smirked again, his expression infuriatingly smug. “Fine, fine. I’ll play along, for now. But mark my words, Kane—the chaos surrounding Miss Whittaker is just beginning. And when it spills over, don’t come crying to me about the price.”

With the deal made, Lorcan’s form seemed to shimmer, the faint outline of feathers overtaking his frame. Within seconds, he returned to his raven form, the sharp caw echoing ominously through the clearing as he launched himself into the air. His inky silhouette vanished into the night, leaving only silence behind.

I exhaled slowly, allowing a fraction of the tension to ease from my shoulders. Lorcan was a gamble, but not an unwinnable one. His loyalty was to opportunity, not ideology—a fact I could weaponize if necessary.

Sliding into the driver’s seat of my Tesla, I tapped my fingers absently against the steering wheel. The road ahead wasn’t just dangerous. It was personal.

Her face flashed in my mind’s eye, unbidden. Tess, with her quick wit, her resolute defiance, and her maddening ability to unearth questions I hadn’t thought to ask. There was something about her, something more than her impulsive bravery or her precarious bond with Thalon. It was a pull I couldn’t name, an instinct I couldn’t rationalize. In her presence, my focus shifted—subtly at first, like the nudge of a tide, until I realized she was at the center of every calculation I made.

I wasn’t used to distraction, least of all the kind that made me question my own intentions. Tess wasn’t part of my plan—she wasn’t supposed to be. Yet, since her arrival, I’d felt it lurking beneath the surface: a restless urge to shield her from what she couldn’t yet see coming. It wasn’t like me. Protection, for me, was a strategic decision, a calculated move intended to retain order. But with Tess, it felt... instinctual. Primal, even.

I tightened my grip on the steering wheel, jaw clenched. This wasn’t about sentiment. It couldn’t be. She was integral to the chessboard that had been set before us—the librarian with a dragon bond, the outlier that disrupted every equation. Whether or not she realized it, her choices would ripple outward, touching every faction, every power, and every fragile balance. If I was protective of her, it was because her survival served the greater good. Logic dictated nothing less.

And yet, when I thought of someone like Lorcan circling her, his dark intrigue and razor-sharp cunning probing for weaknesses, I felt the flicker of something more dangerous than logic. Anger. The kind that burned slow, like embers waiting to ignite, ready to tear through anything or anyone who dared cross her path.

I shook the thought off with a sharp breath. There was no place for that kind of indulgence. Tess wasn’t mine to protect beyond what the situation demanded. Whatever tether pulled at me, binding my thoughts to her, I needed to sever it before it cost me my edge. Before it became my weakness.

Still, as I navigated the dimly lit forest roads, each turn pulling me closer to the glowing towers of the Dragonne Library, a small, unbidden thought surfaced in the quiet recesses of my mind—a thought I pushed aside as soon as it formed.

What if I didn’t sever that tether?

Chapter 4

Tess

“Here you are. I’ll catch up with you later, okay? Just... take care, Tess,” Mason said as we reached the Annex.

“Of course,” I replied.

With that, Mason kept walking. I stepped closer to the Annex, where my heart skipped a beat at the sight of the sleek, obsidian figure of Thalon, landing gracefully just beyond the structure.

Thalon's massive head swung towards me, molten eyes gleaming with intensity."We don’t have much time, little one,"he rumbled, his voice carrying none of his usual playfulness."You need to be ready."

A knot of unease coiled in my stomach, but I nodded. I knew what he meant. The weight of the Survival Challenge loomed over me, and with it, the ever-growing scrutiny of the Guild. Every day, I felt the pressure mounting, the expectation that I prove myself—prove that I belonged here.

I placed a steadying hand against his warm scales."Then let’s go."

"Hold tight,"he instructed, his massive muscles tensing beneath me.

---