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Not the High Fae male who greeted every soldier they passed when returning to the firesite. Not someone who actually cared enough for the well-being of those patrolling, those resting around crackling fires or tending to tack and armor. Questioning if the accommodations and food were up to his standards. If their cots were fitting enough, if they had enough lanterns or blankets.

A few mentioned minuscule things, to which he effortlessly waved his hand, and smoke and shadows whorled, dissipating around his palm or on the ground, revealing the very thing requested.

He almost seemed to care.

But no amount of warm greetings or charm would change her mind.

A shadow darkened the sun above them. Alora glimpsed the sky to see the black wings of five faeries, and one with pearly white feathers, flying in the sky. A clanging of metal echoed into the valley as they paired off, meeting metal on metal, raining sparks above the tents like trickling rain.

In the distance, near the lake, more sharpened metal rang.

“The Wingborne,” Garrik interrupted the sparring sounds, noticing her curiosity.

One dark-haired faerie with glistening black wings swept through the sky to defend an incoming blade. She recognized him as the guard who was stationed outside the High Prince’s tent.

“Their general.” He nodded to the two. Wings of black and the other of white mixed in a blur as they wrestled, airborne, and their bodies pushed from one another in a fury. “Keeps them in constant operation. Soon, the entire sky will be filled. It is quite a magnificent sight.”

Noticing a strange, subtle gleam in the High Prince’s face as he observed them, Alora said nothing. Drowning out his voice to quiet a rippling fire still raging in her veins from Eldacar’s tent.

And now … not only did she have to worry about patrols on the ground but the threat from wings above, too.

He registered her silence and stepped in front of her, blocking the view of the sky. “I should not have said those things.”

She stayed silent, tightening her lips, refusing to look at him, and instead watched a soldier pulling on his boots near a fire.

His chest rose with a deep breath. “I will ask you again. What must I do for you to trust me?”

You can die.Her eyes darted beside her, assessing the fluttering fabric of a tent, focusing on anything but him.

Garrik crossed his arms. His jaw tensed as he lifted an eyebrow. “I am waiting.”

He could wait all day. She didn’t care. Maybe she should say it. A true sacrifice for the realm, the only thing worthy enough for her to trust him. In truth, nothing she would ask of him would matter. Not when she would be gone soon and never see it through.

“You want to prove to me that you can be trusted after everything you’ve done?” Alora turned to him, digging her heels into the dirt, stretching her chin high in defiance. “Bring me a burning Blazebloom, mighty prince. Then I’ll trust you.”

The High Prince’s skin paled. Tension rolled through his shoulders and neck.

A Blazebloom—a burning Blazebloom—the rarest, most impossibly difficult to locate, eternal flower of the southern kingdoms. And not just any kingdom—the Fire Kingdom. A sky-high wall of burning flames separated their lands and all others. Even High King Magnelis couldn’t penetrate their borders.

And their flower—their mostsacredflower—only mentioned in ancient tales of times past was said to contain eternal flames from the stars themselves. A magic unlike anything this world could contain. Full of danger, destruction, passion, desire. The power of life. In the wrong hands, they could level an entire world. In the right ones…

No one past the Fire Kingdom’s borders had ever seen one. They didn’t exist as far as anyone knew.

“You know not of what you ask.” Smoke and shadows danced around Garrik’s rigid shoulders.

“I do, in fact, know a thing or two about this world. You asked me what it would take to trust you. After everything you’ve done to me. To all those I’ve heard stories about. It would take a damn miracle for me to trust you.”

She turned to walk away, but his strong grip found her forearm. “You would have me go as far as the southern shores of Fire Kingdom just to pick you a flower? Risking my life inKiagan’s lands to find some rumor in the wind? What you ask is impossible.”

As long as it’s as far away from me.“I’m sure the High Prince of Elysian will be just fine.” Her brow arched. “What? Afraid are you?”

“Afraid? Never.” He paused, veins bulging in his forearm. “Challenged.” That wolfish smirk returned, irritating her wholly. “You wicked, clever thing. If you wanted me to get you flowers, all you had to do was ask.”

Alora rolled her eyes so far that a wind could’ve been summoned. She laughed at the thought of it, though. At even requesting one of the very things she hated the most.

He chuckled. “Alright then. If I complete your task, you will trust me. But shall we sweeten the deal?” Garrik’s shadows danced around his shoulders wildly now, and he fixed his eyes once more on the clanging of swords in the sky.

They returnedto find Aiden in the dirt, on his back, with his feet propped up against the fallen log. Sharpening a curved sword and humming a cheerful melody as his boots bounced midair to the beat.