Page 69 of A Court of Darkness and Dragons

The shadows of the ruined hall seemed to lean in closer, as though feeding on his pain. My chest ached at the rawness in his tone, the haunted cast to his features.

Veralin knew exactly where to strike.

“I know that isn’t true,” I whispered, moving closer until my fingers brushed his arm. “It was either Theron or Inderia who went to Cyran. We can find out which, if it helps ease your mind.”

Zander’s jaw tightened, his throat working as if he swallowed down words that threatened to break him. “It doesn’t matter which of them paid the Order. Severeth was behind it—manipulating them. And behind her, as always, is Veralin.” His voice hardened, steel threading through the cracks of grief. “We are exactly where we need to be to end this.”

I studied him, the way the torchlight caught the hollows beneath his eyes, the way his hand gripped his sword like it was the only anchor keeping him from unraveling. “Then I’ll follow you anywhere.”

He didn’t answer.

So I kept speaking, though my voice betrayed me, trembling with the weight of truth. “I know you’ll have to make hard choices as king. I accept that. I accept the consequences of it.” The sadness slipped through, no matter how I tried to smother it—because saying it out loud felt like letting go of pieces of us I hadn’t even held yet.

His head snapped toward me, eyes blazing. Anger flickered there—anger at me, at fate, at the gods for putting this burden on his shoulders. But before he could speak⁠—

A guttural hiss split the silence.

Shadows tore themselves free from the corners of the banquet hall, coalescing into snarling shapes. Clawed limbs, glowing red eyes, the smell of rot curling through the air.

My sword was in my hand in an instant. “We’re not alone.”

Zander turned, his Dark Fire already coiling around his fists as the first of the wraithlike creatures lunged from the shadows.

The first wraith lunged, its body little more than a swirl of black mist shaped vaguely like a man. Its face was a hollow void, its claws tipped with jagged shards of ice. The others followed in a rush, pouring from the corners and rafters of the defunct banquet hall like living smoke. Their shrieks were shrill enough to rattle my bones, their presence heavy enough to claw at my lungs.

I struck out with my blade, my heart racing, only to feel the steel pass clean through the creature as if it were made of fog. No resistance. No wound. The wraith twisted, screeching in delight, and its claws raked down my arm, the pain so cold it burned.

“Back!” Zander roared, Dark Fire already unfurling from his fists like a storm breaking free of chains.

We fought anyway, Ferrula’s blade flashing, Jax swinging his greatsword in an arc that should’ve cut one of the things in half, but their blades meant nothing. Naia’s kinetic surge sparked, shoving one wraith across the hall, but it reformed instantly, whispering in a tongue that scraped at my sanity.

“Move behind me!” Zander’s voice thundered through the chamber, fierce enough to make me obey without thought. He stepped forward, Dark Fire spilling from him in violent lashes that cracked the air like whips. When the black flame struck the wraiths, their shrieks changed—pure agony. Their forms convulsed, imploded, and dissolved into nothingness.

He was a wall of destruction, his magic carving through the shadow-spawn as if they were kindling in a pyre. One lash of Dark Fire cut across three at once, searing through their insubstantial bodies. Another bolt shot from his hand like a spear, slamming one against the stone wall until it burst into smoke.

The sight was terrifying, his Dark Fire wasn’t just fire, it was a living force, writhing around him, feeding on his fury, stretching farther than I had ever seen it go. It coiled around his body, lashing out on its own as though it had a will beyond his control. For a moment, I couldn’t breathe—not because of the wraiths, but because of him.

The last of Veralin’s creations lunged from the ceiling, dropping like a dagger of shadow. Zander turned, his eyes pure molten darkness, and unleashed a torrent of Dark Fire so violent it split the air with a thunderclap. The wraith shrieked once, then vanished into nothing.

Silence followed. The room smelled of scorched stone and smoke. My chest heaved, the others pressed close behind me, all of us staring at him.

Ferrula blew out a low whistle. “Well… that was humbling.”

Jax snorted and leaned on his blade, though his eyes were still wide. “That’s the first time I’ve hidden behind a king’s coattails.”

Zander’s gaze snapped to him, his jaw tight, irritation flashing in his eyes. “Only Dark Fire kills them. Nobody wins this war thinking they can do this alone. We are all better suited to certain tasks. This is just one of them.”

Jax lifted his hands in mock surrender, his grin unrepentant. “Yeah, but with the exception of Ashe, you’re way more powerful.”

Zander’s eyes flickered to me, his expression unreadable, but I could feel the tension humming off him—pride, anger, and fear all twisted together, but he continued on.

The castle swallowed us whole as we went deeper into its heart. Our boots echoed against the cracked stones, torchlight flickering over walls that seemed to shift when we weren’t looking. The air was heavy with damp rot, the stench of sulfur threading through every corridor. Ancient tapestries hung in tatters, their scenes warped with heroes twisted into monsters, dragons bleeding black flame instead of gold. Every step felt like walking through the memory of a nightmare, half-real, half a lie conjured by Veralin’s power.

No more wraiths stalked us, but their absence wasn’t a comfort. It was worse. Empty halls stretched like veins, leading us toward something inevitable, and every flicker of shadow set the hairs on my arms on edge. My dragon mark burned against my skin, Kaelith’s voice brushing my mind. You feel him because he wants you to. Follow, but beware. Illusions are his shield as much as his weapon.

I slowed, my chest tightening, and whispered, “This way.”

Zander’s dark gaze flicked to mine, questioning, but he didn’t hesitate. He gave the order with a nod, and the others fell in behind us without a word. I could feel it. A pull low in my chest, tugging me like an invisible tether. My feet seemed to know the path better than I did, turning down a wide corridor, then through an arched doorway that opened into a vast chamber.