Page 9 of Fear the Flames
“Precisely, angel.” I’m so overcome by his plans that the use of a pet name brushes off my shoulders. A heist. Commander Cayden Veles of Vareveth wants to go into enemy territory to take my dragons from my father, King Garrick. The Commander of Bloodshed, as some call him, wants to ally ourselves against a common enemy.
No, this is too easy.
“What’s the catch?” I inquire while forcing my head down from the clouds, but I can’t derail the hope that already swirls in my chest. Hope is a dangerous emotion. It’s one of the emotions that renders us blind to logic.
“You stay in Vareveth after the heist is complete and use the dragons against Imirath in the upcoming war.” His statement is final. One of my hands closes over the other, and I squeeze as hard as I can. The worst part about anxiety is being unable to hide it when you desperately want to. Shivers rack up and down my body, but I force myself to keep my tone even.
“That’s it? That’s all you want?” I have no qualms about taking place in the upcoming war; in fact, I prefer it. My decision was made the second I told him to meet me here last night, even if I didn’t realize it. I deserve more out of this life than hiding away somewhere that’s momentarily safe. I love Aestilian, and I always will. But love shouldn’t cripple you; it should flourish with you.
“You’ll have to sign a formal alliance treaty, but yes,” he says with a definitive nod.
“What about King Eagor and Queen Valia? I need to know where they stand in all of this.” They’re the rulers of Vareveth; surely they have a say in this.
“They won’t be informed about the heist if that’s what you’re asking.”
“How is that possible?” I scrunch my brows together.
He pauses, weighing his words, “Vareveth is different from most kingdoms, this is a militaristic motivated heist; therefore, I don’t have to clear it with either of them.”
“Okay,” I say slowly, trying to wrap my head around everything. “What will they think I’m in Vareveth for?”
“Eagor thinks it may sway other kingdoms in our favor if you’re in Vareveth. As of right now, everyone has remained neutral. You’re next in line to the Imirath throne. Aligning with Vareveth would look good for us and bad for Garrick,” Cayden states. My shaky nerves settle the more he talks. I can see why he attained his position at a young age. He looks to be around my age, probably a few years older, but his mind is beyond his years. I’ve also gathered that Cayden Veles isn’t the type of person that people cross; he crosses them. He’s talking about his own king and queen as if they’re nothing more than pawns inhisgame.
“I won’t be a figurehead for Eagor to parade around in hopes of appeasing other kingdoms,” I retort. I want to take this deal, but I won’t compromise my worth for anyone—let alone some king I’ve never met. I won’t come out of hiding just to stand behind someone.
Cayden barks out a sharp, humorless laugh, “I think we’re far past downplaying your skill set. I wouldn’t make a deal with you if I didn’t think you could handle it, and you wouldn’t be tied to a tree if I remained ignorant to how well you fight. I’m your primary ally. Yes, you’ll have to put on a face every so often as all rulers do, even me. But we’ll be focusing on the heist as soon as the treaty is signed.”
The silence hangs heavy in the space between us.
“Untie me,” I demand, needing time to collect my thoughts. Cayden complies, taking long strides to the back of the tree, and begins loosening the knot. I don’t think Finnian will react well, but Ailliard will be even worse. Finnian, I can reason with, but Ailliard? He has tunnel vision when it comes to my safety. But I can’t keep living for everyone else. It shouldn’t be seen as selfish to know what you deserve and to go out and take it for yourself.
No more hiding.
No more being a ghost.
“You’ll be coming on the heist with me?” I ask, bringing my hands forward and running my fingers over my irritated wrists.
“Attached already?” he questions while stepping from behind the tree.
“You’d make a very good shield,” I muse while summoning the anger I felt when he first tied me up. His face snaps to the side after I slam my fist into his cheek. I would have gone for his stomach, but he’s wearing armor, and I don’t feel like busting my knuckles. “Don’t tie me up again, prick.” He slowly turns his head toward me and looks shocked? Intrigued? I think it’s both.
“Yes, I will be coming with you on the heist, angel,” Cayden smirks. I roll my eyes at the use of that term again. Whatever. I’ve been called worse. If he thinks I’m angelic while punching him in the face, then so be it.
“Who else will know about the heist,soldier?” If the nickname that undermines his rank bothers him, he doesn’t let on. In fact, his eyes flare in challenge.
“My First General Ryder Neredras and Head of Intelligence Saskia Neredras,” he states. Good. I’m glad he’s not informing an entire regiment of soldiers. Something like this must be kept quiet, or else the consequences could be substantial.
“Siblings or married?” I quirk a brow; it’ll be easier to deal with the first.
“Siblings,” he confirms. “Who will you tell?”
“Technically, I haven’t agreed to anything yet. There’s still more we need to discuss,” I pause, fidgeting with the bottom of my braid. This isn’t something I can gamble. I can’t tell Ailliard, the person that got me out of Imirath, that I’m going back there on my own accord for a heist. Especially knowing he hates my dragons since they killed my mother, his sister—Queen Isira. I’ve brought up getting my dragons back before, and it never goes in my favor.
When I was ten, my father attempted to physically break the bond between myself and the dragons with the assistance of a mage—it didn’t end well. I remember the burning hot, excruciating pain I felt in my chest while the mage continued his chant. The spell rebounded, and the dragons went crazy, blowing fire in every direction. One of my father’s soldiers dragged me back to the dungeon using the chains that were shackled around my wrists and ankles, which only increased the dragon’s anger. Several people died that night, Queen Isira being one of them. I wish I could say I felt her loss, but I never knew her. The longest time I spent in a room with her was when I would have to sit in front of my parents’ thrones in chains while I was hit with a cane. The interrogator would scream at me to tell them how to break my bond with the dragons, but even if I wanted to—it’s unbreakable. The bond is as much a part of me as my lungs and heart are.
She wasn’t as cruel as my father, but she did nothing to stop him.
Nobody did.
