Page 70 of Eluvonia
The commander sifts through the documents, his expression darkening with each one. Finally, he tosses them at me, the papers scattering across the floor. Some bounce off my knees, landing in a messy pile. My eyes dart over the maps and letters, all detailing military plans, strategic strongholds, weaknesses. Information I’ve never even seen before, let alone touched. But they are all in my hand writing.
“These are our military plans,” the commander says, hisvoice low and menacing. “Only a select few have access to this information. You—being constantly in the presence of my son and the prince—are one of them.”
My head shakes violently, my breaths coming fast and shallow. “I don’t… I don’t know anything about this! I swear!” My voice cracks, panic clawing at my throat. Tears blur my vision, spilling over and streaking down my face.
The commander huffs, his hands clasping behind his back. “Take her to the dungeons. For now. Soon, we will make an example of her.”
The guards salute, their grips like iron as they haul me to my feet. My legs feel like jelly, my body trembling as they drag me toward the doors. My gaze darts wildly, desperate for someone—anyone—to help me. My eyes land on Shura. Her smile widens, cruel and triumphant. The realization crashes over me like a tidal wave.
She set me up.
“You bitch!” I scream, thrashing against the guards’ hold. “What did you and Seraveille do?!”
Shura huffs, tilting her head as if I’m nothing more than an amusing spectacle. “I’ll prove I’m innocent,” I swear to her, my voice raw with fury as I struggle against the guards. My arms ache from their grip, but I keep fighting, digging my heels into the floor. “And when I do, I’m coming for you both!”
Shura doesn’t even flinch. She crosses her arms, a smirk curling on her lips. “Good luck with that,” she drawls, her tone dripping with mockery.
My chest heaves with every ragged breath as the guards wrench me toward the door. I crane my neck to keep my eyes locked on her, memorizing every line of her smug, victoriousface. The guards’ boots echo sharply in the throne room, drowning out the sound of my racing thoughts.
The commander stands motionless, his expression carved from stone, his hands still clasped behind his back as if this is just another routine day. I don’t miss the brief flicker of something in his eyes—doubt? Pity?
The heavy doors creak open, and cold air from the hallway rushes in, biting at my skin. My struggles grow more frantic. “This is a mistake! I’ve done nothing wrong!” My voice cracks, but I refuse to cry again. “You’re condemning the wrong person!”
The guards say nothing, their expressions hard as steel. One of them shoves me forward, and I stumble, barely catching myself before I hit the ground. My wrists burn against the iron shackles, and my heart pounds with the weight of helplessness. I turn my head back one last time, watching the throne room disappear behind me, the massive doors swinging shut with a hollow thud.
The last thing I see is Shura, still smiling.
Chapter 28
KAIDA
The acrid stench of smoke fills my nostrils as Declan and I descend from the skies above Thaldrim’s capital village. Flames devour the remnants of buildings, once strong and proud, now reduced to ash and rubble. Screams tear through the air, mingling with the clash of steel and the guttural roars of Dragons. This place isn’t a village anymore; it’s a graveyard—chaos incarnate.
I glance at Declan flying beside me. His golden scales shimmer faintly in the waning sunlight, his jaw clenched tight. I don’t need words to know what he’s thinking. It’s the same as me: this is a losing battle.
We land just outside the village, ash swirling around us as our claws dig into the scorched earth. The second my feet touch the ground, I shift, my wings retracting and the familiar ache of transformation settling into my bones. I stand there for a moment, vulnerable, the air cool against my skin.
Declan lands beside me a heartbeat later, his massive formshifting with a swift movement, leaving his body as bare as mine.
A guard approaches immediately, carrying bundles of clothes and our weapons. Without a word, he hands them to us. I take the clothes from him, slipping into them quickly as the chill of the air bites at my skin.
Declan follows suit, his usual smile in place as he gets dressed.
“It’s not often I get to see you like this,” he teases, his voice light despite the weight of the mission ahead.
I ignore him, focusing on pulling my tunic over my head, the tension of the moment pulling at my thoughts.
Once we’re both dressed, I give the guard a nod of thanks, and we turn toward the village.
“You ready for this?” he asks, pulling his daggers from their sheaths. His voice is steady, but his eyes flick toward the burning wreckage ahead.
I flex my hands, the anticipation thrumming through my veins like fire. “Always.”
We charge in without hesitation, the chaos swallowing us whole. I move instinctively, my claws tearing through the first Fae soldier before he even sees me coming. Blood sprays across my face, hot and metallic, and his body crumples to the ground.
Declan fights beside me, his daggers a blur of movement. He’s efficient, precise, each kill clean and calculated.
But me? My movements are anything but. Shadows coil around my arms, writhing and twisting as though alive, striking out at the Fae who dare to cross me. My claws sink into flesh and bone, ripping apart anything in my path. They scream and fall, one after another, but I don’t stop.
