She took a long, measured breath. Her spine straightened, shoulders rolling back, and with one swipe of her palm, she brushed the dirt and tunnel grit from her jacket.“Fine,” she said, voice flat but laced with something sharp underneath. She raised her chin toward Kaelen and deliberately stepped forward.Her arms folded across her chest with a soft leather snap, narrowing her eyes as though locking her annoyance into place. “Let’s talk,” she said, rolling her eyes just enough to sting. “You’ve made it quite clear you’re not one to be messed with…” A pause, then her lips curled, cynical and amused all at once. “…And in other words,” she added, cutting her smirk wider, “I’d very much like to waste your time until my lord comes along and beats the crap out of you.”Sahrak gave a low hum behind Kaelen—not quite a laugh.Kaelen’s expression shifted, the easy calm vanishing like smoke sucked out of the room. His jaw set. His eyes darkened. The humor left his body.“Do not misunderstand m

The main palace chamber hummed with a cold, heavy quiet. High above, stone arches curved like the ribs of some ancient, long-dead beast, with their dark veins catching faint streams of light that fell like pale ribbons from windows carved too high for comfort. At the far end of the hall sat Zhaedor, sprawled casually upon a throne of polished silver.The throne gleamed with an almost liquid shine, etching every edge with spiraling sigils that seemed to writhe under the dim light. The back arched high, catching every flicker of torchfire, making him look less like a ruler and more like a predator.Elara quietly stepped forward, dipping her head slightly, making a few strands of dark hair slip forward to curtain her face. “I wish to speak, my lord,” her voice came out steady but soft.Zhaedor shifted lazily, slowly tilting his head as his lips pulled into that sharp, mirthless smile he was famous for. “You’re one of my fascinating creations,” dragging the words. “So go on.” He leaned

“Such a warm welcome,” Zhaedor muttered, almost too quiet for anyone but himself, lacing his voice with bitter humor.Without hesitation, he clenched his right fist, blooming heat under his skin like a wildfire hungry to consume. Flames crawled along his knuckles, licking up his wrist in restless waves as he dragged the fist behind his back, ready to launch it forward, to burn whatever idiot thought they could throw death his way mid-flight.But then—just a flicker.A blur of pale skin and dark hair, weightless in the chaos, tumbling through the tunnel like a broken doll. For the briefest fraction of a falling grain of sand, he caught her face.Velira.His pupils dilated. His breath stopped. The world narrowed to one name echoing like a hammer blow against his skull.“Velira?” he whispered, as disbelief seared through him.The flames recoiled instantly, snuffed out in a sharp hiss as if they, too, recognized her.“Slow down!” Zhaedor roared, ripping the raw and jagged sound through

“WHAT DID YOU DO!?” Zhaedor’s voice cracked, flinging each syllable with the weight of restrained fury.“I… I didn’t—” Velira stammered, curling her shoulders inward and clutching both hands tightly against her chest. Her breath caught. Her face was raw with fear, her eyes wide and her lips parted. The sand crunched faintly beneath her heel as she staggered backward.Zhaedor tried to steady his breathing, but his hands were shaking, and he could see the veins rising against his dark skin. The heat of his presence pressed against her like a wall as he marched forward, letting out a long, burning sigh that nearly hissed between his teeth.“What…” He paused. Blinked twice, burning his eyes into hers. “What exactly did you do to piss them off in this way? Don’t play games with me, Velira. I know you. I know what you’re capable of. And I know”—he jabbed a finger at her clenched hands—“you did something stupid. So tell me—what did you do?”Velira’s breath caught in her throat. “I swear, my

“What…” Kaelen’s lips parted. His pupils shrank as he watched Zhaedor’s body from afar stiffen, holding on to bleeding fists, and watching the desert trembling in sync with his rage. “What is he doing?”“I can’t tell either,” Sahrak’s reply was low, gravelly, darting both eyes. He crouched low, planting his right foot firmly behind him, tilting his weight forward as his shoulders coiled, shimmering the air around him with tension. “But…” his tone sharpened, “I had my suspicions. And whatever he’s about to do—we shouldn’t let him.”Kaelen blinked and unblinked. “Suspicions about what?”Sahrak’s gaze hardened. “Those ridiculous, unnecessarily large tunnels—the ones stretching beneath half this cursed desert? They were carved by his flames. A fraction of his strength.” He jerked his chin toward Zhaedor, whose trembling body now radiated waves of molten heat. “Which means right now…” he exhaled sharply, “…he’s barely at half of what he’s actually capable of.”“Okay…” Kaelen muttered, almo