Page 29 of Bound by Fire and Scales (The Dragons of Earis #1)

I stood in the courtyard, arms crossed, watching as the final remnants of the battle were swept away. The spot where Loryr’s ashes scattered was now scrubbed clean, the stones spotless, erasing every visible trace of what had unfolded here. It felt strange that her betrayal could be so easily erased.

I felt an uneasiness growing in my chest. Darkness was once again creeping through these lands. First the gryphons and the mages, and now this. I had seen enough battles to recognize the signs: this was far from over. But my people needed time to heal. We weren’t ready to face another threat so soon. And yet, with enemies lurking in the shadows, there was no telling when or where the next strike would fall.

The aftermath of Loryr’s betrayal hung over us like a storm, leaving us all feeling that something sacred had been shattered beyond repair. In every clan, the council wasn’t just a group of advisors, they were the foundation, the wisdom-keepers, the heart of tradition. They were the Elders who had survived wars and calamities; the ones trusted to guide the clan’s leaders. And Loryr had been that presence for the Firescales long before I was born, serving alongside my father, guiding him through countless conflicts, steering him through the brutal years of war. She was the one who whispered strategies, offered calm when he burned with anger, and brought wisdom where there was rage.

When my father died and I stepped in to take his place, she had been there for me too. She had been my mentor. She steadied my hands, taught me to balance strength with caution, helped me understand what it meant to be a leader. I had looked at her with reverence, with trust.

But everything changed when the council began using dark magic through my body as a weapon. The moment that power touched my blood, her demeanor shifted. She grew wary, distant. At first, I’d thought it was her way of shielding me, of testing me, but it went deeper than that. She questioned every move I made, undermined my authority, and tried to sway my choices at every turn.

I’d convinced myself that her doubts came from the fact that I was still young, barely a man trying to carry an entire clan. That perhaps she couldn’t see me as anything other than the boy she’d once guided. But as the years passed, her mistrust never wavered, only intensified, until I realized she wasn’t just questioning me. She was trying to control me. It was as though she believed herself more fit to lead than I was, as if I’d somehow lost her loyalty, despite all I’d done for the clan.

Now, I wondered just how long she had been under the mages influence. How many years had she secretly wielded dark magic, all the while trying to turn the clan against me?

But none of that mattered now.

Loryr was gone. Leaving behind a broken council that had lost the trust of our people. I closed my eyes, pushing the decision aside for later. There was no time to dwell on it now.

Turning away from the courtyard, I stepped back into the fortress. My steps echoing down the cold stone halls as I made my way to the war room, my thoughts a storm of questions and doubts. Yet when I reached the doorway, they faded, replaced by the tense energy that pulsed within.

My gaze found Sabrina first, my mate, my anchor amidst all this chaos. It still felt surreal, as if each time I looked at her, I had to convince myself she was truly mine. My eyes traced over her form, taking in the way her deep red gown embraced her, the fabric rich and bold in the colors of our clan. A low growl of approval rumbled through my chest, primal and possessive, as I took in how she stood, proudly wrapped in the Firescale red. She wore it not only as a symbol but as a declaration, showing the world that she was bound to me, part of my clan, claimed in the oldest, most irrevocable way.

Through the bond between us, I felt the warmth of her strength, a steady presence that soothed my troubled mind. Her gaze softened as she held mine, a silent reassurance passing between us.

Morlav and his fellow Iceclaws formed a tight circle in the center of the room, their stance alert, as if they were ready for another battle at any moment. Kislav stood close to Anphyr, both of them eyeing this reunion with a mix of curiosity and anticipation. Meanwhile, Enrik hung back against the wall, arms crossed, projecting an air of indifference. But I knew him well enough to recognize the flicker of interest behind his seemingly aloof demeanor.

The air was thick, charged with a silent understanding that Loryr’s treachery had been a deep wound, but also that our duty demanded we move forward, no matter how unsteady our footing felt. I stepped inside, feeling the eyes of my kin, my allies, and the lingering presence of everything we’d endured together. It was time to focus on our next steps, before the Iceclaws went back to their own lands.

“Morlav,” I began as he locked his steely gaze onto mine. “Thank you for staying and helping during this attack. I know the situation is dire, but we must unite our strengths if we’re to face what lies ahead.”

“The Iceclaws stand ready, Zephyr. We need to stand together once again and prepare for the worst.”

I nodded. The only way we could win against the mages was standing together. “If we’re not careful, the Ice Mountains won’t just be a battleground. They could very well become a death trap if we aren’t prepared. You all witnessed what happened here.”

Morlav’s smile was somber but fierce. “We know those peaks better than anyone. They’re our home, and we'll defend them with everything we have.” His conviction echoed in the room, showing the loyalty and pride that ran deep in the veins of the Iceclaw clan. It was a loyalty forged in battle and bound by blood.

“You’re right, but I can’t shake the feeling that sending you out there with so few of our forces is a grave mistake,” I admitted, my voice betraying my concern.

Morlav’s expression shifted slightly, the hard lines of his face softening just enough to reveal a glimmer of respect in his eyes. It was a small acknowledgment, but it spoke volumes about our bond as leaders and warriors. He understood my desire to protect not just my clan, but also those who fought alongside us.

“I know your heart is with us, Zephyr. But leadership isn’t just about bravery; it’s also about making hard choices. You must take care of your people first. Make sure that your clan is solid once again before taking on the fight with us.” I nodded, knowing he spoke the truth, yet it felt like a weight on my chest.

His hand rested firmly on my shoulder, and I caught the glimmer of appreciation in his eyes before he nodded and shifted the topic. “But before we leave, there’s something else I need to discuss,” he said, his tone turning serious. “Have any of you encountered that mage before?” His gaze moved steadily between me, Kislav, and Enrik, as if gauging our reactions at his question.

We exchanged glances and shook our heads in unison. None of us had encountered her previously. Mages were not unfamiliar to us; we had faced them in the past, particularly during the end of the war when they allied themselves with the Thunder Dragons. Those were dark times filled with betrayal and the unsettling power of magic. Memories flooded back of how they had twisted their abilities to turn the tide of battle, wreaking havoc among our ranks. Now, it seemed we were once again confronting their dark magic.

“Do any of you have any idea what she was holding?” Morlav asked.

I remembered the bright staff she wielded, the very one she had used to trigger the explosion. I shared a glance with Kislav before responding. “It appeared to be a staff,” I said.

“What kind of staff?” Enrik asked as he stepped further into the room. His gray eyes locked onto mine, and I knew exactly what he was thinking. We had both witnessed the moment when the Thunder Dragons fell once and for all.

Morlav paused for a moment before responding. “I believe it is one of the Thunder Dragons’ relics. It possesses the power to control weather, storms, and... gryphons.”

I had hoped we would not head in that direction. My gaze shifted back to Enrik, who stood in the center of the room. I noticed his hands flexing at his sides as he fought to keep control. As the last of the Thunder Dragons, I knew he would take this news hard. The war had left its survivors with deep scars, scars that would take time to heal. Yet I feared that Enrik’s scars might never fully heal. He had endured more than most, bearing the weight of loss and betrayal that shaped him into who he was. We had stood by his side when his father, the former leader of the clan, made the fateful decision to give that very staff away to a mage, sealing their fate.

But we had destroyed it.

How could it possibly be back?

Enrik finally spoke, his tone laced with barely contained fury. “So, you’re saying those fuckers are back with an ancient weapon that I destroyed ages ago? How can we be sure that you’re not just mistaken? Old man, maybe your eyesight isn’t what it used to be,” he retorted, a dark, sarcastic smile curling at the corners of his lips.

I groaned inwardly at his blatant disrespect. I couldn’t allow a member of my clan to speak that way to the leader of another clan. Enrik seemed determined to push my buttons, testing my patience more than ever lately. Just as I took a step forward to intervene, Morlav raised his hand to stop me, a silent plea for restraint.

“I’ve observed signs, traces of the thunder dragon’s power lingering around the battlefield. Signs that you would have noticed as well if you hadn’t been so occupied with following the human girl,” Morlav remarked, but that only made Enrik roll his eyes.

The room grew tense. Kislav shot me a glance, and I could tell he was already running through all the possible outcomes in his mind. We’d thought the gryphons were the biggest threat. Now we were facing the possibility of an ancient power falling into the wrong hands.

If the mages truly had a relic of the Thunder Dragons, no one would be safe.

“We need to find this relic,” I said, breaking the silence. “If the mages have control over it, they’ll continue to attack. They’ll come for the Ice Mountains, for the clans... and for us.”

Kislav nodded in agreement. “We need scouts on the ground tracking their movements. If we can find the source of their power, we can cut them off before they use it again.”

Morlav folded his arms, his eyes narrowing as he considered our options. “I’ll send word to my contacts. We need to be sure before we act.”

Enrik, still skeptical, scoffed lightly. “Sure, you’ll send word. But what if the mages have already figured out how to use the artifact? We’ll be sitting ducks.”

“We won’t be sitting ducks,” I growled, my frustration spilling over. “We’ll prepare. We’ll strengthen our defenses. And we’ll be ready. We’ll fight together.”

I paused as I considered my next steps. When I turned to Morlav, I had already decided what to do. “You're more vulnerable to the attacks because of how close the Ice Mountains are to the Thunder Lands. I insist once again that some of my dragons go with you, Morlav. At any other time, I would help in this upcoming fight, but we're far less, and I cannot abandon my clan, especially now that we understand how dangerous our enemies are. I hope you can forgive me, Morlav.”

“You've done far more than your share, child. Your father would be proud of the way you're leading the clan,” he said, a warm smile spreading across his face.

I nodded, feeling the weight of his respect for both my late father and myself. I was determined not to let him down as an ally of the Firescale clan.

“I’ll take some of your dragons, Zephyr. And you must call for us if you find yourself under attack again,” he said, his tone firm. I nodded in agreement, and a satisfied smile broke across his face. “We’ll be leaving in the morning,” Morlav declared, signaling the end of our meeting.

As the Iceclaws began to file out of the war room, a sense of finality hung in the air. Morlav exchanged a few quiet words with his warriors as they prepared for the journey ahead. Sabrina stepped closer, her presence pulling my attention away from the departing warriors. She wore that deep red gown, the fabric flowing like fire around her, and it struck me how effortlessly she filled the space with her light.

“Zephyr,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper but laced with urgency. I turned to face her, the chaos of the room fading as I focused solely on her. “Are you okay?”

I nodded, though I still felt the tension in my body. “Just… a lot to process. The council, Loryr, the Iceclaws preparing to leave for battle… Everything is happening all at once.”

Sabrina stepped closer, apprehension flickering in her eyes. “You’re worried about them, aren’t you?”

I ran a hand through my hair, trying to shake off the worry that had settled in my gut. “Of course I am. Morlav and his dragons are heading into the unknown. I wish I could go with them, but I know I need to stay here for my clan.”

She took another step forward, and her scent, like warm embers, enveloped me. “You’re doing what’s best for them,” she reassured me, reaching out to rest her hand on my arm. “But you can’t bear all of this alone. You have allies, and I’m here, too. We’ll face whatever comes next together.”

Her touch sent a ripple of calm through me, grounding me amidst the chaos. “You make it sound so easy,” I said, a small smile tugging at my lips.

“You complicated everything, big dragon,” she said, smirking down at me. “But I believe in you, Zephyr. You have the strength to lead your people through this darkness.”

“Zephyr,” Enrik said, his voice low and urgent. “We need to talk. Alone.” He cast a quick glance at Sabrina and Kislav, who stood by my side, apprehension sweeping over Kislav's face. For a moment, I thought he might insist on staying to hear whatever Enrik had to say, but he shrugged and gave Enrik a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

“If you need anything, I’ll be outside in the courtyard,” he said, his tone casual, though the tension in the air was palpable as he walked away.

“See you in our room,” she said, her voice light as she walked away. I watched her figure retreat, lingering on the way her hair danced across her back and slim waist, until she left the room.

“Talk,” I urged, turning my focus back to Enrik.

“Not here. I don’t trust them,” he whispered, a serious tone lacing his words, which made my brow furrow in concern. He didn’t trust the Iceclaws? Our allies? When Enrik got like this, it meant bad news. He gestured toward the gates that led downstairs of the fortress. “Let’s go to the dungeons.”

I nodded and followed him.

?? ?

The damp air of the dungeons clung to my skin as we descended the dark stone steps, each footfall echoing in the silence. The dungeons were the most secure part of the fortress, a place where even the bravest of souls tread lightly. If Enrik sought privacy, this was the ideal sanctuary, an underground labyrinth where whispers could vanish into the shadows and no prying ears could listen. As we reached the bottom, Enrik turned to me with a determined expression.

“I want to go with them,” he said, his voice low but firm.

“What?” I blinked, confusion surging through me.

“I want to leave with the Iceclaw’s.”

I frowned, trying to interpret what he was saying. He didn’t mean it, right? “Are you trying to leave the clan?” The question came out harsher than I intended, but the idea of losing such an important part of the clan was too much.

He took a moment, his gaze shifting away from me, and when he finally answered, his voice was quieter, conflicted. “No... Not unless you make me stay now.”

Frustration and confusion warred inside me. “Why, Enrik? Why leave now?” I stepped closer, trying to meet his eyes. “We need you back here. Who’s going to train the new recruits?”

He let out a small, humorless laugh. “You or Kislav. You two can handle it.”

I clenched my jaw. I could sense there was something more, something else that he was trying to hide from me. “What is this really about?”

His head snapped up, eyes flashing with something like anger. “Look, buddy, I know you let me become part of your clan out of pity but—”

“You think you’re one of us because I felt pity?” I spat the words at him, incredulous that he still held onto that belief after all these years with us. “I took you in because you proved yourself. You helped me end the war. Hells, I wouldn’t even be here if I had faced your father alone!”

He scoffed, his gaze hardening as he looked away, but I caught the flicker of vulnerability in his eyes. “Probably not,” he muttered.

I let out a breath, trying to ease the tension. “Are you sure you want to go with them? You hate the cold,” I said, my voice lighter, attempting to break through his stubbornness.

He let out a bitter laugh. “Yeah, well... I need to make sure he’s not back.” The weight of his words hit me like a punch. He meant his father. Zorik, the last leader of the Thunder Dragons.

“You really think that’s a possibility?” My throat tightened, the idea of that old nightmare returning clawing at my insides.

Enrik shrugged, but his eyes gave him away—this wasn’t just a suspicion. This was fear. “I don’t know, Zephyr. But I need to be there if it is.”

The silence between us was thick. We both knew what Zorik being back would mean to our species. But, still… Was that the only reason he wanted to leave? I swallowed hard before asking the question I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear the answer to, but I had to ask. I had to have this clear between us. “Is this about Sabrina?”

His reaction was immediate, his eyes widened, his usual composure slipping. “What?” he asked, his voice tense, defensive.

I pushed further, crossing my arms over my chest. “Are you leaving because you have feelings for her?”

He scoffed, rolling his eyes, but I could see the strain in his expression. “You did it for the council, right? Admit it, you dumbass.”

I felt a smirk tugging at my lips, even as something heavier settled in my chest. “Only if you admit you have feelings for her.”

He barked out a sharp, bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Me? Falling for a human? The only thing worse would be falling for that fucking mage who blew up the battlefield,” he said, but his voice lacked conviction, the sarcasm a thin mask for the truth underneath.

I stared at him, my heart pounding as I recognized the denial in his eyes. We had fought together, bled together, and rebuilt this clan together from scratch. I knew him better than he thought, and even though he wouldn’t admit it, I saw the way he looked at her, a look of longing that was all too familiar—I looked at Sabrina the same way, too. But instead of anger or jealousy rising in me, I felt a calm certainty. Our mating bond was strong, far more powerful than any insecurities a lesser alpha might harbor. I understood now that Enrik would never pose a threat to us.

“She’s my true mate,” I confessed, the weight of the words sinking in as I spoke them aloud for the first time.

Enrik’s smile was anything but warm. There was a bitterness in his eyes as he looked at me, his laugh sharp and humorless. “You fell for her, huh? No wonder.” His voice dropped, a bitter edge cutting through. “Of course, everything falls into place for you, doesn’t it? Always perfect in the end, no matter what.”

His words stung more than I expected, but the pain behind them wasn’t lost on me.

I took a deep breath, deciding to let his jab slide. I knew there was a storm brewing in his mind, and this wasn’t the time to get drawn into it. He was lashing out at me, but I could see the uncertainty in his eyes, the turmoil within him as he grappled with what might happen if his suspicions turned out to be true. “Go,” I said. “Do what you have to do. You’ll be in command of the fire dragons that go with them.”

Enrik met my gaze, something unreadable passing between us before he nodded. “I’ll be waiting for you to come back. This is your clan, Enrik. It’s your home,” I said, patting his shoulder.

He scoffed, but there was a flicker of warmth in his eyes now. “I’ll be back before you know it, leader.”

I watched as he turned away, his figure disappearing into the shadows of the dungeons. The bond between Enrik and me ran deeper than even the one I shared with Kislav. It was a connection forged through trials that tested our very limits, through blood and fire, through shared struggles and victories that had shaped us both.

But now, as I felt that sinking feeling in my core, I knew it wasn’t just about the clan. It wasn’t even about the looming threat of the mages or the secrets of the thunder dragons. It was about us. About how much we had already lost at such a young age and how much was left for us to lose.