Page 141 of A Court of Thralls and Thorns

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “But we need to find a way to stabilize Ashe’s magic... until Kaelith gets more accommodating.”

I scoffed bitterly. “Not sure that’s ever going to happen.”

“Maybe she can’t help it,” Riven said thoughtfully. “Could something else be going on with her?”

My mind replayed the image of Kaelith and Hein wading in the shallows—the way Hein had moved closer, trying to gain her attention. She’d seemed... unsettled. Not quite angry, but preoccupied.

Was something wrong with Kaelith?

“Maybe,” I murmured. “But there’s only one way to get answers about a lost magic.”

Cordelle’s eyes sharpened. “The prisoner?”

I nodded. “I have to know if he’s fae... and if he can help me.” My stomach twisted as I added quietly, “I’m being pulled in too many directions. Between Kaelith, training, my father, and Remy...” I trailed off, unwilling to say Zander’s name aloud. His presence lingered in my mind—the warmth of his kiss still burned on my lips.

“I need answers,” I finished.

Riven rubbed her hands together with a wicked grin. “I guess that means we’re planning to infiltrate the castle.”

Chapter

Twenty-Eight

Isat on the edge of my bunk, relaying everything I knew about infiltrating the castle dungeon.

“We’ll need guard rotations,” I said, tapping my fingers against my knee. “Who those guards are and, more importantly, if they can be bought. There’s no point in risking this if my father already has some of them on his payroll.”

Cordelle nodded, flipping open a notebook where he’d already started scribbling details.

“I know how to get inside the walls,” I added. “Thanks to Siergen.”

“Siergen?” Naia asked.

“The red dragon,” Riven answered for me. “The one who acts like he owns the place.”

I smiled faintly. “That’s the one. I haven’t seen him in a while,” I admitted. “But if he’s around… he might lend me a favor.”

“Or eat you,” Jax muttered.

“Maybe,” I agreed with a wry smile.

With nothing else to plan for the moment, we headed for the dining hall.

We found our table across from Iron Fang. The space between the squads felt wider than usual, and their sharp glances didn’t help. I kept my eyes down at first, poking at my food as I mulled over everything.

But eventually, my gaze betrayed me, straying toward Zander. He was speaking with Cade, his expression serious. Whatever they were talking about, Zander’s face was cold and unmoving.

I should’ve looked away, but I didn’t. My gaze followed him when he wandered toward Remy.

I tensed. Remy’s eyes were already locked on me. He was seated at the far end of the Warborn table, his squadmates giving him more space than necessary. Almost like they didn’t know what to do with him—or they were afraid of him.

He didn’t look away when Zander reached him.

I didn’t know what they were saying, but I knew enough to understand the tension between them wasn’t new. Whatever this was, it ran deep—and the way Remy’s fingers twitched at his side told me he was barely keeping his composure.

Zander’s expression darkened, and I had the overwhelming sense that whatever was happening, I was caught right in the middle of it.

Zander glared at the room. “All squads to the Ascension Grounds. Dinner is over.”