No guessing. No uncertainty.
I envy her confidence. Because right now, uncertainty is all I have. Uncertainty and the creeping fear that we’re missingsomething crucial, something obvious, something that will only become clear when it’s far too late.
“Corvus and I are staff. We can’t help you during the purge.” I push off from my section of the wall, moving closer to her. The heat radiating from my body intensifies with my worry—a phoenix trait I’ve never fully controlled. “Neither can any of your parents. You’ll be alone out there.”
Alone. Surrounded by enemies she can see and enemies she can’t. Trusting that her allies are actually allies and not wolves in sheep’s clothing waiting for the perfect moment to bare their fangs.
“I have my siblings, Keir, and Hemlocke.” Raven kisses her daughter’s forehead, her lips lingering against the warm scales. “I’ll be okay. I’m not worried.”
She smiles, and that smile concerns me more than any threat. It’s the smile of someone who has already decided, already committed, already accepted whatever consequences may come.
But has she considered that her siblings might not all be loyal? That Keir’s pack has members we’ve never properly vetted? That Hemlocke, for all his steadfast service, came to us from a territory with ties to species that would benefit from our fall?
I don’t say any of this. I can’t. The suspicion would poison everything, and maybe that’s exactly what our enemies want.
“What if it’s more than one teacher?” Corvus asks as he crosses to Raven and takes Nova from her with careful hands. The hatchling stirs, chirps once, then settles against his chest. “What if you’re outnumbered?”
What if they’re all enemies? What if the entire school is compromised? What if we send her into a killing ground thinking she has allies when every single one of them is waiting to put a knife in her back?
“The rules only state I can’t use my breath weapon while shifted.” Raven’s voice is calm, almost casual, as if she’s discussing the weather rather than combat. “I can use it in human form. Or I can turn them to stone.”
She lifts her hand, examining her fingers like they’re weapons—which, I realize with a chill; they are.
“I’ll be okay.”
She’s so sure. So certain. And despite every instinct screaming that this is madness, part of me believes her. I’ve seen what she can do. I’ve felt the power coiled inside her, ancient and terrible and barely contained.
But power isn’t enough when you can’t see the threat coming. Power isn’t enough when your enemy knows your every weakness, your every blind spot, your every vulnerability—because they’ve been watching you, studying you, waiting for this exact moment.
“Why am I suddenly very concerned for the student body?” I lean against the wall again, crossing my arms over my chest. The stone is cool against my back, grounding me against the fire building in my veins. I look at my family—this strange, fierce, beautiful collection of souls that fate has woven together.
Any of them could betray us.
I don’t believe it. I refuse to believe it.
But the possibility exists, and that possibility is a poison all its own.
“Because one way or another, I’m ending the threat at home.” Raven’s voice rings with finality, with the weight of a vow sworn in blood. “And then we’re dealing with Magnus.”
The name of my former king hangs in the air like smoke, like ash, like the promise of fire to come.
Magnus, at least, is an enemy I know. An enemy I can see, name, can burn. After all this uncertainty, all this shadow-boxing with threats we cannot identify, there’s something almost comforting about the prospect of facing him.
Almost.
I think my homeland is in deep shit.
And I find that I don’t care. My loyalty burned away lifetimes ago, replaced by something stronger—love for the fierce dragoness before me, for the family we’ve built, for the future we’re fighting to protect.
But as I look around this room, at faces I love, faces I trust, I cannot shake the cold certainty that somewhere among us—or close to us—an enemy waits. Someone we’ve overlooked. Someone we’ve dismissed. Someone who smiles and nods and bides their time.
And when they finally strike, we won’t see it coming.
Magnus wanted war.
He’s about to get one.
But I fear the war we can see is only a distraction from the one we can’t.
