Page 27 of Empire of Wrath and Ruin
"Then what do you want from me?" The question came out raw, desperate. "How do I make this work when every instinct I have demands I claim you completely?"
"I want you to trust me," she said simply. "I want you to believe that I'm strong enough to choose, and that my choice might actually be you—if you give me the chance to make it freely."
I pressed the heels of my palms against my eyes, trying to block out the writhing shadows that had filled my peripheral vision. "I don't know how much longer I can fight them."
"I know." She moved closer but didn't touch me. "And I'm sorry for that. I truly am. But I can't pretend to want something I don't just to make the darkness easier for you to bear."
Before I could respond, a sharp knock echoed through our chambers. We both froze, the intimate tension of the moment shattered by the intrusion.
"Enter," I called, my voice carefully controlled.
A young acolyte stepped through the door, his eyes carefully averted from Livia as he bowed deeply. "High Shadow, the Council requests your immediate presence in the Chamber of Voices."
I felt something cold settle in my stomach. Emergency sessions were rare and never brought good news. "Did they specify the nature of the summons?"
"Matters of city defence, my lord. Aytara-vel commands your attendance within the hour."
I nodded dismissal, and the boy fled as quickly as propriety allowed. When I turned back to Livia, she was watching me with an expression I couldn't quite read.
"Emergency council sessions," I explained. "It means something has happened—probably related to Imperial movements near our borders."
"Go," she said simply. "Your people need you."
Your people,notour people.The distinction wasn't lost on me, and I felt the shadows stir restlessly at the reminder of her continued otherness.
"Will you be here when I return?" I asked, hating the uncertainty in my voice.
Livia settled onto the window seat, drawing her knees up to her chest in a gesture that made her look younger and more vulnerable than I had seen her since our first night together. "Where else would I go?"
The question hung between us, heavy with implications neither of us wanted to examine too closely. I left without another word, the shadows trailing behind me like wild dogs, starving and nowhere near sated simply biding their time.
10
The Chamber of Voices was the heart of our city's governance, a circular room carved from the living rock of the mountain itself. Acoustic properties built into the stone ensured that even the softest whisper could be heard from any point in the chamber, while preventing outside ears from eavesdropping on our deliberations. Seven high-backed chairs arranged in a circle marked the seats of the full council, though today I counted only five occupied positions.
Aytara sat in the eastern chair, her silver hair gleaming in the light of the floating orbs that illuminated the space. To her right was Malachar, our oldest serving council member and the closest thing we had to a military commander. His weathered face bore the scars of decades spent defending our borders, and his presence usually meant we were discussing matters of war.
The other three seats held Yerana, our chief healer and lore-keeper; Thane, who oversaw trade and resource management; and Kess, one of only two dragon-shifters who held council positions. The empty chairs belonged to members currentlyleading border patrols—a reminder of how thin our defences had become.
"Taveth," Aytara's voice carried easily across the chamber as I took my designated seat. "Thank you for coming so quickly."
"Of course, Aytara-vel. What news from the borders?"
It was Malachar who answered, his gravelly voice echoing strangely in the acoustically perfect space. "Three days ago, our scouts reported unusual Imperial activity near the Whispering Gorge. Large troop movements, supply convoys, the kind of buildup that suggests they're planning something significant."
The shadows stirred uneasily around my feet. Imperial forces had been probing our defences for months, but they had never committed the kind of resources Malachar was describing.
"How large a force?" I asked.
"Conservative estimates put it at two full legions, plus auxiliary units. Dragon support as well—at least six riders confirmed, possibly more." Yerana's usually calm voice carried a note of concern that sent ice through my veins.
Six dragon riders meant six of our people enslaved and broken, forced to turn their strength against their own kind. The thought made the shadows dance with violent anticipation, eager for blood and vengeance.
"There's more," Kess said, her dragon-shifter senses no doubt picking up on the emotional undercurrents in the room. "Two nights ago, our border patrol captured a small group attempting to infiltrate through the southern passes."
"Spies?" I asked, though something in the atmosphere of the room suggested the answer was more complicated.
"We thought so initially," Malachar replied. "Six men, four clearly Imperials, two who are Talfen dragon-shifters. But the situation is... unusual."
