Page 12 of A Court of Wings and Shadows

I obeyed, moving with the stiff precision of someone walking into a viper’s nest.

The king tilted his head slightly, his voice as smooth as silk stretched too thin. “I’ve been watching you.”

I said nothing.

He gave a small smile that didn’t touch his eyes. “Your dragon… Kaelith, is it? She is most impressive. A rare bond. Feral-born and yet submissive. That is not a common trait.”

“She’s not submissive,” I said evenly. “She’sloyal.”

His smile grew, faint and calculating. “Of course. Loyalty is such a fickle thing these days.”

He folded his hands over the dragon-carved armrest, rings glinting in the firelight. “How have you found the training, Ashlyn?”

The use of my name, casual, unburdened by title, felt like a test in itself.

“It’s difficult,” I said truthfully. “Grueling. But effective.”

He gave a slight nod, as if that answer amused him. “You’re in Thrall Squad, yes? The most volatile of the groups. How are they… performing?”

There was an insinuation behind the word volatile, though his tone remained neutral.

“We work well together,” I said. “The squad’s strength is in its unpredictability. Everyone’s different, but we move as one when it counts.”

A flicker of interest lit behind his eyes. “Even the noble-born? The ones who would once have been your betters?”

“I don’t see ranks when I fight beside them. Neither does Kaelith.”

His expression sharpened at that.

“Ah yes. Your dragon.” He leaned forward, resting an elbow against the arm of his throne. “Tell me—how does she behave in combat?”

I hesitated, choosing my words with care. “Efficient. Controlled. Brutal, when she needs to be.”

“Does she listen to you?” he asked, fingers drumming once against the carved head of a dragon. “Immediately? Without hesitation?”

“She listens,” I said slowly. “But not without thought. She questions when it matters. She’s not a mindless beast.”

“Most dragons push back,” he said, more to himself than to me. “They resist. Strain against the bond until dominance is proven. But she… submitted to you quickly, didn’t she?”

My throat tightened. “Not exactly.”

“I see.” He stared into the fire for a beat too long before turning back to me. “And the adaptation? The connection? Have you had… complications?”

He was dancing around something. Waiting for me to give him more than he asked.

I kept my voice flat. “We’ve adapted.”

His eyes searched mine for a moment. “Not even the deeper resonance? The bleed-over from her instincts into your thoughts?”

I stilled.

“I’ve heard of it,” I said carefully. “It hasn’t been a problem.”

Not a lie. Not entirely.

He gave a slow smile, and this time, it did reach his eyes, but it felt wrong. Too pleased. Too knowing.

“Fascinating,” he murmured. “Truly… fascinating.”