Page 87 of A Court of Thralls and Thorns

“You are welcome to sleep here.”

Ferrula snorted, eyeing him like he was the most pitiful thing she’d ever seen. “You couldn’t handle this much woman, Jax.” She fluffed her pillow. “And I don’t want to deal with the noise complaints.”

Jax’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Noise complaints?”

Ferrula stretched out, smirking as she settled under her blanket. “Trust me, you’d be a screamer.”

Jax’s jaw dropped slightly, his stunned expression priceless as the rest of us fought to hold back our laughter. Riven pressed her face into her pillow, Naia bit her lip, and I stuffed my blanket into my mouth to stifle the sound.

The room fell quiet, just the constant rhythm of our breathing filling the space. A few heartbeats later, Jax huffed dramatically.

“Woman, I am taking that as a challenge.”

I smiled to myself before sleep finally took me.

The peace didn’t last long.

Yelling outside jolted me awake, voices sharp and urgent in the crisp morning air. My squadmates stirred, groggy but alert, as we all sat up and looked toward the door.

“What now?” Naia muttered, rubbing her eyes.

I threw off my blanket, already reaching for my boots. Whatever it was, it sounded serious.

We dressed quickly, strapping on our flight armor with practiced urgency. The tension in the air was unmistakable, a sharp hum of unease that settled in my chest as we exited the room. Members from all the squads in Fourth Guild were already moving toward the Ascension Grounds, the din of voices growing louder with every step.

At the center of it all, Dorian, Zander, and Theron stood locked in a heated discussion.

“They can barely ride!” Zander hissed, his usual composed demeanor fraying at the edges.

Theron huffed, his posture rigid with authority. “They passed the Deathwing Trial.”

Dorian’s expression darkened as he jabbed a finger toward Theron. “You’re doing this because I have to leave.”

Theron squared his shoulders, the picture of unaffected arrogance. “You have orders from the king to visit the outlying kingdoms and secure more… recruits. I suggest you deploy quickly.” His tone was clipped, dismissive. “I have been tasked with protecting the western ports. It is unlikely the aggressors are Blood Fae. They attack the eastern kingdoms, not the west.”

Dorian stepped closer, his presence radiating uncontained fury. “You are sending our brother with a squad full of unbonded riders.”

Theron smirked, his confidence as infuriating as it was unshakable. “What better scenario than to force a rider and a dragon to work together?”

“You are a total prick,” Dorian hissed.

Theron merely smiled, unbothered. “And you are a pompous asshole, but that doesn’t change anything.” He turned to Zander with a smug tilt of his chin. “Gather your squad… well, the squad you’ve taken responsibility for.”

I saw the shift in Zander’s eyes. Lavender bled into pure black, his rage crackling beneath the surface like a storm about to break. My breath caught. I’d seen that look before. The darkness just beneath his skin, the scarcely leashed power that threatened to consume everything around him.

Dorian moved fast, a steadying hand pressed against Zander’s chest. “He isn’t worth it. Take the Thrall Squad and do an inspection in Thubia. Theron is correct that there have been no sightings of the Blood Fae on the west side of the continent. Their lands lie to the east, and they would have to fly around the entire northern shore.”

Zander’s jaw ticked as he forced himself to calm. His eyes returned to their normal lavender hue as he nodded curtly.

Then his gaze swept over us.

“Thrall Squad, you’re with me.”

Dorian stepped forward, his voice ringing through the Ascension Grounds. “Squads, disperse. Return to your assigned training until further notice.”

There was a moment of hesitation, but the other squads obeyed, murmuring amongst themselves as they made their way back to their respective banners. Zander didn’t wait for further discussion; he turned on his heel and motioned for us to follow.

We trailed him to the dining hall, where the healers were currently eating. The sharp scent of herbs mixed with the warm aroma of fresh bread, but even the familiar comfort of a meal couldn’t ease the tension that clung to Zander’s shoulders.