Page 154 of A Court of Thralls and Thorns

Cordelle grimaced. “That would explain a lot. The sudden increase in Blood Fae attacks... the way Major Kaler’s been acting.”

I clenched my fists. “So someone inside the castle is working with the Blood Fae?”

Cordelle’s voice dropped to a near whisper. “It’s more than that. Someone’s feeding the king bad information. If they’re covering up attacks, who knows what else they’re doing.”

Riven’s fingers curled into fists. “Then we need to get into that dungeon—soon. Whatever that prisoner is doing, it’s putting all of us in danger.”

Chapter

Thirty-One

The last thing I wanted to do was return to my father’s home, but he was trying to find out who the traitor was, and I needed to know any information he had about the fae prisoner.

I slipped out of bed, moving quietly as my squadmates’ soft breathing filled the room. The faint glow of moonlight crept across the floor, illuminating the edge of Jax’s boots and Riven’s dagger resting on her nightstand. I took one last look to be sure none of them stirred before easing the door open.

The cold night air stung my face as I made my way through the castle grounds. The guards were tucked away inside their towers, likely half-asleep. I kept to the shadows, my boots scarcely making a sound on the cobbled streets as I wound my way through the village. Most windows were dark, and only the faint scent of smoke from dying hearths lingered in the air.

By the time I reached my father’s home, the night had stretched on long enough that even the alley cats had disappeared. I ducked into the tavern, forcing myself to ignore the memories that crept up from the shadows. I knew this place too well.

The tunnel beneath the floor was narrow, damp, and stifling. The cold stone walls seemed to press in closer the deeper I went, like the Order itself. I knew my father’s tricks—the second step creaked, the third one shifted slightly beneath your weight. I sidestepped each one without hesitation.

His office was empty, just as I expected. The maps on the desk were neatly stacked, the quill still damp in the inkpot. He hadn’t been gone long.

I moved through the narrow hallways, making my way to his room. His door was slightly ajar, the flickering glow of firelight spilling out. I eased it open to find Cyran sitting in his favorite chair by the hearth, a glass of wine in his hand.

He looked up, his cold smile curving over the rim of his glass.

“I’m sorry to intrude,” I said, stepping inside. “But I decided an exchange of information was in order.”

Cyran’s smile sharpened. “That took less time than I expected.”

I clenched my fists at my sides. “I’m not here to grovel. I’m here to ask what you know about the fae prisoner.”

Cyran took a slow sip of his wine, savoring the moment. “And what are you offering in return?”

“I know there’s a traitor inside the castle,” I said carefully. “Someone manipulating information. I can tell you what I know—but I’m not giving you anything about my squad.”

His eyes narrowed. “You think I need you to tell me who the traitor is?” He scoffed. “I already know.”

My breath hitched. “Who?”

“That’s not how this works,” Cyran said, swirling his wine. “You give me something first.”

I clenched my teeth. “I told you, I’m not giving you information about the Fourth Guild.”

“You’ve grown arrogant,” Cyran said with a sneer. “You think you’re untouchable just because you’re playing dragon rider now?”

“I think I deserve to know who’s putting my squad in danger.”

“You deserve nothing.” His voice hardened, and he set the wine down with a sharpclink. “I’ve given you everything, Ashlyn. I raised you, trained you, and kept you alive when no one else wanted you. You’re only breathing because of me.”

“You sold me to the king,” I shot back. “Don’t forget that part.”

“That wasn’t my choice,” Cyran said, his voice low. “You should be grateful I found a way to make you useful.”

“Useful?” My power surged, hot and restless beneath my skin. “I wasn’t your daughter—I was your pawn.”

“Exactly,” Cyran growled. “And you’re playing the game whether you like it or not.”