Page 56 of A Court of Wings and Shadows

Remy tilted his head. “Considering Thrall Squad is barely out of training and currently operating without an official squad leader… I’ve also submitted a formal request.”

Zander’s brows lifted in cold disbelief. “Request for what?”

“To be named their leader,” Remy said evenly. “The request is already in review.”

The air between them snapped tight.

Zander’s eyes darkened into pools of black, the bond between him and Hein clearly surging to the surface. “Over my dead body.”

Remy’s smile was sharp, cold. “That can be arranged.”

My heart jolted.

Zander stepped forward, the tension turning lethal. “Was it you, Remy?”

Remy’s eyes narrowed. “Was what me?”

Zander didn’t blink. “Were you the one who assassinated my brother?”

For a heartbeat, no one breathed.

Remy’s expression didn’t flicker, but something behind his eyes changed. The faintest tremor in his jaw. The way his fingers curled at his sides.

He didn’t deny it.

He didn’t confirm it either.

And that silence was louder than any blade.

Chapter

Thirteen

Luthias stepped between them like a wall of muscle and quiet authority, his broad chest filling the space just before Zander could close the last few inches between himself and Remy. His green Clubtail rumbled softly behind him, as if sensing the tension and preparing for the worst.

“Do we have a problem, Lieutenants?” Luthias asked, voice calm but edged with steel.

Remy didn’t blink. His gaze stayed fixed on Zander, his eyes sharp enough to cut. “No problem here,” he said slowly. “Prince Rayne remains the highest-ranking officer.”

Zander’s fists were still clenched, his shoulders tight, but he didn’t speak. The black in his eyes flickered faintly before dimming, though the rage still burned beneath the surface.

Luthias gave a short grunt. “Good. Because rank doesn’t mean shit in the Outer Kingdoms, not when we’re fighting Blood Fae.” His voice dropped lower. “And the last thing we need is a power pissing match when people are dying.”

Remy finally turned to face Luthias, and a faint smirk tugged at his lips. “You’re right, of course. We should focus on the real threat.”

Zander adjusted his cloak and smoothed his tone into something almost civil. “Perhaps we should speak with the city magistrate, see what they’ve uncovered about the raid. It might give us a clearer picture of what we’re dealing with.”

Luthias nodded once, but not before flicking a look toward Zander, a silent warning, or maybe a test of restraint.

Zander didn’t move.

I stood just behind him, the letter still burning in my thoughts, my pulse still racing.

Because this wasn’t about command. It was about me.

Luthias took point, his long stride sure as he led us from the landing platform down the winding stone path toward the village proper. The dragons had already taken to the cliffs and trees, distant but near enough to reach if summoned. The sea breeze carried the scent of salt and something faintly metallic, like old blood long since dried.

Beyond the trees, the castle shimmered on a high cliff like something out of a painted story, its spires gleaming gold against the blue sky, banners snapping proudly in the wind. I’d never been to Vrangoth before, but I’d read about it. The city was a symbol of alliance, wealth, and strength of the southern coast. A place known for trade, diplomacy, and security.