Page 53 of Ignite the Infernos

“The old ways may be ancient, but King Noctis never abolished them, nor did King Tenebrae before him, King Han before him, King Gunner, King Khaldun, all the way back to the queens. The laws have stood for thousands of years for dragons like me who’ve been wronged and there’s only one way to make it right.”

King Noctis waves me off, his features pensive, and I know it’s time to do what I came here to do. I need to start leveling with The Horde to see if they can help me and in turn help the others.

“It was the only way to break the curse,” I repeat like a plea. “We deserved to be free, to be whole. It was the least the Relacours could fucking do.”

King Noctis’s contemplative gaze clears, and homes in on me. “We?” he recites evenly, like I didn’t just gift wrap the word and set it right in his lap.

Every eye on me is sharp, and I know one wrong move and they’ll slice me open to get what they want. Lorn’s words on my Naming Day surface like a blooming lotus flower, floating in the murky waters of my existence.

“Let him in. Let us help.”

My heart hammers in my chest, but I can’t tell if it’s pleading for me to stop or begging me to continue. What I’m about to do goes against everything the Syphons have done to stay hidden, to stay protected. This admission could either save us or condemn us, and I can only hope the risk is worth it in the end.

I look at Aeson, and his eyes are like two searing blue flames as he waits tensely for an answer to his father’s question. He leans forward, like he’s hanging on every labored breath I take. We’ve both taken swipes at each other; we’ve both scored hits. Will this truth fracture things even more between us, or will it finally allow us to stand on even ground?

“Are there more Syphons?” Aeson asks.

Let him in, I tell myself, but I feel like I’m walking a tightwire with no one there to catch me if I take one wrong step. I pull in a deep breath, close my eyes, and take the step anyway.

“Yes,” I finally answer. “There are more Syphons.”

Chapter 24

Aeson

EVER’S CONFESSION RENDERS ME MUTE. We had our suspicions, but for her to actually confirm them . . . My mind is reeling. Unexpectedly, hope begins to creep through my cracks like it’s unsure if it’s welcome. To be fair, I’m not sure if it is. Questions, doubt, and the need to take action explode through me like Liberation Day fireworks.

Ever sits in a dragon-stone chair, her eyes closed as though she’s afraid of what she’ll find when she opens them. I’m used to her being cagey and distrustful—it’s what I was prepared to face before I entered this hall. I expected more subterfuge, more denial, more of the tug-of-war we’ve been doing since I first discovered her existence. I did not expect her to drop the rope altogether and start tossing truth grenades at me like she was tired of juggling them.

Our suspicion about there being more Syphons was right, but I don’t know if I’m more stunned by that confirmation or by the fact that Ever actually proffered it. I study my tricky mate, try to assess and anticipate what her goal is here, but my mind is too clouded by the bond and her proximity to be fully rational and objective.

“Where are they?” Lorn demands, looking as though he’s about to leap out of his chair and go find them. I know his head is wrapped around Novak’s secret about sisters, and I don’t blame him.

Ever’s eyes flash open, and all I find in her jade-green gaze is a defiant resolve that immediately has my hackles rising. She squares off with Lorn, and my dragon does not like that, not one fucking bit, but I tamp down the unreasonable urge to do anything about it, like clamp a hand over her eyes and growl at my brother until he knows never to look at her again.

“I’m not going to answer that question,” Ever replies flatly, and everyone in the room stares at her, completely dumbfounded.

Elio shifts his weight in his chair, and I’m all at once aware of his every move. His scent is cataloged in my nose. Every judgmental twitch of his brow and purse of his lips pings my radar. If he lifts even a finger in Ever’s direction, I’ll snap it off. I know it’s an overreaction. I know that the bond is making me volatile, but he was antagonistic toward her earlier, and I’m fighting the urge to do something about it.

“You’ll finally admit there are more Syphons, but you won’t tell us where? Why?” Lorn snaps, and I have to grip the arms of my chair to keep myself from telling him to watch his fucking tone.

I want to bash my head against the back of my chair and hope it clears it of this possessive insanity that isn’t helping anything. My mind tries to wander back to the caves, back to Ever’s lips on mine, her tongue in my mouth, her pussy grinding against me . . . My com pings, thankfully pulling me from my thoughts. The last thing I need right now is a hard-on. It’s already difficult enough not to leap off this balcony, throw her over my shoulder, and take her somewhere I can fuck every truth out of her that she’s still trying to hide from me. I look down at my forearm and see that Ogdan has sent over the feeds cataloging the encampment where Ever and the others with her lived.

“How many Syphons survived?” my father asks when Lorn makes no further progress trying to appeal for answers.

“I’m not going to answer that question either,” she parrots, and Lorn’s growl rumbles through the room.

“Based on preliminary reports, there were anywhere between twenty and thirty souls residing within the wards found in The Scorch. Unfortunately, we can’t say for sure how many of that suspected number are wyverns versus Syphons. We did encounter four wyverns when the small group was attempting to escape, but we were not able to apprehend them in the end. They lost my Wing in the ocean,” I interject, proud I sound perfectly normal and the bond doesn’t have me snarling every word while perched protectively across the back of Ever’s chair.

“You mean over the water?” Commander Galerus questions, his brow furrowed with confusion.

“No, I mean in the water. It appears they’re excellent swimmers and had several contingencies in place for escape. The same is true for the other group on the fliers. Ever is the only one we were able to apprehend, and only then because she drew the hunt to herself, which allowed the others with her to get away.”

“Thatta girl.” Commander Ventis nods in approval. Ever drops her head to hide her amusement, and both Lorn and I shoot the commander a disapproving scowl that does nothing to cow her in the slightest.

“My second just sent feeds of the camp, if anyone would like to review them and our findings for themselves,” I offer, and my father motions for me to pull them up now.

With a few taps on my com, the vid feed pops up just above my forearm. I enlarge the file with a flick and, with another hand motion, project the feed to the center of the room. The three black sand dunes that cradled the camp appear on screen, and with a pinch of my fingers, I forward the vid until the burn pile comes into view and all the scattered shipping containers are center screen. I press play on my forearm, and Farrow’s voice fills the room.