Page 113 of A Court of Wings and Shadows

“Most of it was about the mission to retrieve Dorian,” she said, her arms folded tightly across her chest. “What we saw. What the Blood Fae were doing. But… he kept circling back to my parents. Where they lived. What their jobs were. How often I spoke to them.”

Cordelle nodded. “Same. He asked if my family ever had involvement in royal affairs. If they ever had access to noble estates. He was very focused on bloodlines. Subtle, but… intentional.”

Naia shifted uneasily. “He asked about my brother. How close we were. If he’d ever traveled to another kingdom. Even asked what his stance on the war was.”

Jax snorted. “He didn’t like my answers. Said I was evasive. Kept prodding about Naia’s brother.” His brow furrowed. “What the hell does that have to do with Blood Fae assassins?”

Ferrula’s voice was lower, more thoughtful. “He asked me if I’d ever received a gift from someone I didn’t know. If I’d ever used magic not tied to Narvea. He even asked if I’d ever had… dreams. Ones I couldn’t explain.”

That got all of our attention.

“What kind of dreams?” I asked.

She shook her head. “Didn’t say. Just watched me real close when I said no.”

“They’re not just looking for traitors,” I murmured. “They’re looking for something else.”

“Something specific,” Cordelle said, already pacing a little. “He didn’t ask me a single thing about warder deaths. Not one question. He focused on me. My heritage. My influences.”

“They think it’s us,” Riven said. “Or someone like us. Someone young. Tied to dragons. Connected to magic they don’t understand.”

“A weapon?” Naia asked. “Or a threat?”

“Or both,” Tae said softly.

I leaned back, heart racing beneath my armor.

“They’re searching for something,” I said aloud. “Something they think is hiding among the riders.”

“And they’re hoping to find it before the Blood Fae do,” Jax added.

Which meant we weren’t just pawns in this anymore.

We were the pieces everyone was fighting over.

The door slammed open, crashing against the stone wall with a bang that made half the squad reach for weapons.

Remy stormed into the barracks like a wildfire, eyes locked on me, jaw clenched so tightly I could see the muscle ticking in his cheek.

“What were you doing?” he demanded, voice sharp enough to slice through steel.

I stood, slow and unhurried. “Excuse me?”

“Why was Solei here?” he snapped, taking another step in like he had every right to storm into my world.

“I called her,” I said calmly, though the tension in the room skyrocketed. The others had gone still, silent and watching.

“You what?” His voice rose, disbelief flashing in his eyes.

“She had information,” I said. “And I needed answers.”

Remy’s eyes narrowed, sharp and burning. “They have a death order on you, Ashlyn!”

“Had,” I corrected, lifting my chin. “Not anymore.”

He shook his head, pacing a few steps before whirling back to face me. “No. No, you don’t understand. Cyran never revokes an order. Not unless the target is dead or the contract is fulfilled.”

“Well,” I said, crossing my arms, “I’m standing here breathing, so clearly there’s a third option.”