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The valkyrians have always been the protectors of the eight kingdoms. But I know in recent years they have started to clash with the Council.

They do not agree with the decisions the Council is making, and I fear our alliance with them might break.

Valkyrians are sworn to protect the kingdoms, but if they feel that one land is putting another in danger, it is their duty to intervene.

I’m just not entirely sure on what side they will be when our world is torn in half.

Tabitha Wysteria

Kai had no idea how the drakonian princess had found him.

Their departure had been shrouded in secrecy, but there she was, storming towards him with the fury of an impending tempest, her brown eyes blazing hot enough to set the volcanic peaks ablaze.

A few paces away, Haven stood atop the windswept hill, beckoning her wyvern, her expression a carefully veiled mix of urgency and restraint.

Kai exhaled slowly, bracing himself. The journey home was already promising to be a tiresome one.

‘Alina, I—’

The slap came hard and fast, snapping his head to the side. His first reaction was to chuckle—so she slapped him again.

‘You are leaving?’ she screamed, her voice raw, a cry of wind through fire.

His cheek stung, but he felt nothing beyond the molten anger in her gaze.

Good. He could handle her rage—fury was manageable, a wildfire contained.

It was sorrow that would unmake him. ‘Yes, my sister must return immediately for personal reasons.’ He ignored the way Haven’s black eyes drilled into the back of his skull.

She had always seen through him. The ride back was going to be interesting.

‘And you were not going to say anything?’

‘I did not think you particularly cared, princess.’

She parted her lips, then shut them just as quickly.

He knew her too well now. He could see her mind working, flipping through possibilities like Kage sorting through his endless books.

She was at war with herself—one half wanting to run, to leap onto his wyvern and follow him across the sky, and the other forcing herself to stand her ground.

Kai wanted to reach for her, to tell her she could come, that he would let her.

But she had been right. She had spent her life living for others, chained to the will of a kingdom that had carved her destiny in stone before she could even speak.

She had to break through the barriers herself.

With quiet reverence, Kai took her hand, lifting it to his lips in a gesture he had seen drakonians use. Her fingers trembled slightly, but when he pressed a kiss against her golden skin, she smiled.

‘I don’t want you to go,’ she admitted, voice small, full of an ache she refused to let spill over.

‘I know.’ He reached up, brushing away the single tear that traced down her cheek. ‘I don’t want to go either, princess.’

‘Then don’t.’

He leaned down with the intention of something fleeting, a whisper of lips before farewell, but the moment he tasted her, he lost himself.

His hands gripped her waist, drawing her closer as her mouth opened beneath his, as his tongue swept against hers and the world cracked apart, set aflame by the fire that burnt between them.

He thought to have known hunger. But this—this was something else entirely. She was like a drug, a fever in his blood, and if he was not careful, he would drown in her.

With sheer will, he tore himself away, breath ragged, hands shaking.

Haven was waiting. And if he kept kissing the drakonian princess, he would not leave.

He would drag her back to the castle, press her against the warm stone walls, and learn every single inch of her body by memory.

What they had done in the woods had only been an ember compared to the inferno that threatened to consume him now.

‘You were right, princess,’ he said, his voice low and rough.

‘About what?’ She blinked up at him, still dazed.

‘You should choose you.’

Her face flickered, breaking for the briefest of moments before hardening into something resolute. Determined. It was the same look she had worn when she had told him she would not be caged, that she would carve her own future, no matter the cost.

A roar split the sky, and the two black wyverns descended, their massive bodies shaking the ground as they landed mere feet away.

The scent of scorched earth filled the air, but it was nothing compared to the invisible scent of loss, thick and suffocating.

Nyx’s absence bled into the world like a wound that would never heal.

Kai turned away from the drakonian princess, following his sister towards their beasts. He did not look back. He would not say goodbye. He couldn’t. If he saw her standing there, wind-touched and radiant, it would destroy him.

But Alina Acheron had never been one to let things go so easily.

She ran after him, and before he could stop her, she threw herself into his arms, clutching him with such desperate ferocity that he barely managed to remain standing. Her face buried into his chest, and deadly gods, he nearly shattered right then and there.

He curled his arms around her, one last time.

‘Remember one thing, princess,’ he murmured into her hair, his voice barely a whisper. ‘You are the fiercest woman I have ever met. And I shall never forget you for that alone.’

Before she could reply, before she could break him, he kissed her forehead, lingering longer than he should have. Then he turned and climbed onto his wyvern.

He did not look back.

He did not see her watching him disappear into the sky.

But he felt it. And gods, it hurt.

…

‘For the tenth time today—no, I am not plotting to kill anyone,’ Vera sighed, attempting to sip her tea, only to lean back in her chair when Wren smacked her palm against the table yet again.

‘The witches are trying to protect the wall because I told them about the Fire King's plan to claim our land. I warned them—nothing more, nothing less.’

Wren and Kage exchanged a glance, silent yet brimming with doubt.

The witch was confined to Kage’s chambers—a reluctant prisoner under his watchful, brooding gaze.

He had complained about it often, but as a creature of the night who rarely slept and spent most of his time lost in tomes, he made an efficient captor.

The valkyrians, on the other hand, had chosen to withhold judgment.

Diplomats at heart, they had always danced carefully along the edge of conflict, stepping in only when the balance tipped too far towards destruction.

‘I am not plotting anything,’ Vera repeated, exasperated.

‘If I were I would have glamoured myself to look drakonian in front of them.’ She gestured to the three valkyrians lounging around Kage’s dimly lit quarters, their imposing forms draped in battle-worn armour.

‘Instead, I sit here—fully exposed.’ She lifted her hands, marked with black tattoos, her purple eyes unwavering.

‘Well ya better start explaining yerself,’ Wren said, collapsing into a chair. ‘I’ve neva seen so many witches in me life.’

‘You have never seen a witch in your life,’Kage corrected, not looking up from his book. ‘Except for Vera.’

Wren blew a stray lock of white hair from her eyes, ignoring him. ‘I thought witches had gone extinct. Well, not extinct… I just thought there wasn’t so many of ya.’

Vera snorted. ‘Of course you did. Everyone did. We have had to survive as best we could.’

‘So ya came here to help Mal kill Ash Acheron,’ Wren said, eyes half-lidded as she studied the witch. ‘Why?’

The valkyrians stirred, alert now, poised as though waiting for the strike of a blade.

Vera exhaled, shifting her gaze towards Wren’s pocket.

Her voice, when she spoke, was hoarse with revelation.

‘Because of that black notebook you keep in your pocket. It is a diary, but not the diary of a drakonian maid. It is the diary of Tabitha Wysteria.’

A hush fell over the room.

‘That is impossible.’ Astrid—the blonde valkyrian in armour so impractically sparse that Wren had always questioned its function—took a step closer, blue eyes narrowed. ‘Tabitha Wysteria died during the Great War, she murdered Hadrian Blackburn and then slit her own throat.’

Vera tilted her head, unimpressed. ‘Yes, thank you for the history lesson. But as we all already know that story, perhaps you could remain silent long enough for me to finish?’ She turned her attention to Wren.

‘I know you will find it impossible so…’ Her hands sparkled with green magic, and before Wren could react, an invisible force sealed her mouth shut.

Wren’s muffled yelp filled the chamber, her hands flying to her face in panicked horror.

‘Have you always been capable of doing that?’ Kage smirked. He watched Wren struggle with quiet delight.

Vera sipped her now-lukewarm tea. ‘As I was saying. This is Tabitha’s handwriting.

And yes, we have all believed that she perished in the war.

But this proves she did not. It also proves the curse is real.

The anniversary of Hadrian’s death draws near, and when it arrives, the curse will awaken.

The only way to break it is for Mal to stab Ash Acheron through the heart. ’

‘Why them?’ Kage asked.

‘The notebook claims that in order for the curse to be broken, a drakonian royal must be willing to sacrifice themselves to a wyverian, for only their love towards their own enemy will save everyone. The words of the curse say something similar.’

‘And only when the flames break through the shadows shall all be forgiven,’ Kage recited.

‘Yes. The flames—fire. A drakonian. The shadows… well, some say it refers to wyverians, others to witches.’

‘Mal ,’ Kage replied. ‘She is both.’

A waver of hesitation passed through Vera. ‘I’m still hesitant on that.’ She gestured at Wren. ‘Maybe our dear Seer can see whether that is true or not.’ All eyes turned to Wren, who waved her arms in frantic desperation. ‘Or perhaps Mal could explain what we saw her do at the wall. ’

Kage cleared his throat, his voice sharp with restrained fury. ‘My sister owes no one an explanation—least of all you, witch. One of our wyverns lies dead because of your kind.’

Vera exhaled a weary breath, her eyes sweeping skyward with theatrical disdain.

‘I do regret the loss, truly. But I’m not the keeper of every damn witch and their whims.’ Not even her sisters, as it happened.

But that particular truth would remain unspoken.

Only Mal Blackburn knew of her blood-ties to Allegra and Dawn, and she intended to keep it that way.

‘My point is,’ Vera said, her purple eyes dark with something unreadable, ‘the hundred years are nearly spent. In mere weeks, Hadrian’s death will mark its cursed anniversary, and if Mal has not driven that dagger into Ash’s heart by then, the curse will come for us all.

The notebook does not whisper what fate awaits, but I do not believe it will be one we are willing to endure. ’

The room grew colder. Even the candlelight seemed to hesitate, flickering as though uncertain whether to stay or surrender to shadow.

‘Then why,’ Astrid interjected, her voice sharp with frustration, ‘are the witches at the wall fighting us instead of seeking to break the curse?’

Vera sighed, rubbing her temple. ‘Because, like the rest of the kingdoms, most of them refuse to believe in it. Over the years, many have convinced themselves that the curse, if real, would never touch them. After all, it was one of their own who cast it, was it not? Why would it devour its own children?’

‘And you believe otherwise?’ Kage asked.

Vera’s lips twitched into a humourless smile.

‘I am not so reckless as to gamble on a perhaps . The curse does not specify which kingdoms will suffer. It does not promise safety to any. And I, for one, will not wager my life on the mercy of a long-dead witch. I am working under the assumption that Tabitha Wysteria damned every kingdom—her own included.’

Kage moved away from the window where he had been watching the night deepen, his long, pale fingers brushing over the notebook on the table.

His gaze strayed to Wren, who sat with her arms stubbornly crossed, her expression a portrait of barely contained frustration.

‘How do you know the prince must be stabbed?’

‘The notebook says so. The prince must be stabbed with the same blade that was used to end Hadrian Blackburn’s life.’

A slow breath left Kage’s lips. ‘I suppose the notebook does not conveniently specify where this damned blade is hidden?’

Vera shook her head.

Then, suddenly, Wren flailed her arms, desperately trying to catch their attention. The moment Vera lifted the spell sealing her lips, the wolverian gasped, inhaling as though she had just broken through the surface of deep water. ‘Oh, that was awful! I thought I’d go mad!’

Vera rolled her eyes. ‘You were silent for ten minutes .’

‘I neva spend that long without talking unless I’m spying or thieving. Me brother Bryn says I talk even in me sleep, if ya can believe that.’

‘I can,’ Kage muttered dryly.

Wren waved off his sarcasm with an impatient flick of her wrist, her focus shifting to the notebook.

‘I know who might have information on da blade. When I sneaked into Klara’s room, well, ya room…

it was only becas someone else had done it and it made me suspicious of what they were looking for.

Surely they didn’t realise what da notebook really was, but they probably believe that da curse exists and are also trying to stop it. ’

All eyes turned to her .

‘Who?’ Astrid asked.

A slow, sharp grin spread across Wren’s face, the expression of a girl who knew far too many secrets.

‘Hessa and Sahira,’ she answered. ‘Da two princesses from da Desert Kingdom.’