Page 20 of A Court of Darkness and Dragons

They were feeding.

And they were still inside these walls.

I heard a commotion and went to check.

Thrall Squad assembled outside the warder’s chamber like a wall of steel and scale. The air buzzed with tension, and beneath it all, the stench of the dark magic still lingered like ash in my lungs.

I took a breath and faced them. “We go in twos. This castle has too many shadows. I want everyone accounted for.”

Ferrula stepped forward before anyone else could speak. “I’d like to pair with Ashe.”

Jax arched an eyebrow, clearly not expecting that. “Oh? And here I thought I was your favorite.”

Ferrula gave him a lazy shrug, the edge of a smirk playing on her lips. “I bless you with my presence often enough, Jax. Consider this a mercy.”

He chuckled, glancing toward Naia. “Fine by me. I could use some time with the princess, anyway.”

Naia rolled her eyes, but a small smile tugged at her mouth as she moved toward him.

Tae was already linking arms with Cordelle as if they were heading to a festival instead of a sweep for a murderer. “C’mon, Cordy. Let’s go hunting.”

“Only if you don’t touch anything,” Cordelle muttered, and together, they slipped off toward the lower halls.

Ferrula turned to me, expression sharpening. “Where to, Ashe?”

I nodded upward. “Second level. The spare royal rooms. Zander said they aren’t used as often, and they make a great place to hide.”

“Perfect,” she said. “Ghosts, dust, and hidden blades. Just my kind of date.”

We moved quickly through the tower, our boots echoing against the stone steps as we ascended. The castle’s upper levels were older, the stone darker, colder somehow. Ornate wall sconces flickered weakly, casting long shadows that slithered over faded tapestries and cracked archways.

We passed empty rooms with soft furniture and shutters that trembled in the wind.

I pushed open a heavy wooden door; the creak groaned as if it hadn’t moved in a while. The chamber beyond was wide, with arched windows and a broken chandelier lying in a pile on the floor.

“Start on the left,” I said. “Check for blood. Magic. Anything strange.”

Ferrula drew a dagger with a casual twirl of her wrist. “Strange is relative in this place.”

We began the slow sweep. The air was still. The quiet too heavy.

And somewhere… someone was watching.

I could feel it.

The next room we entered was nothing like the last.

It was pristine.

The stone floors were swept clean, the curtains freshly hung, and the scent of lavender clung to the air. Candles—recently extinguished—left trails of smoke curling in the corners. My spine stiffened.

“I thought this room was unassigned,” I whispered.

Ferrula moved ahead, her boots silent on the polished floor. She circled the canopied bed; her steps slow, measured.

Then—

“Ashe,” she called, her voice tight. Urgent.