Page 18 of Eluvonia (Rift of Ages #1)

I cross my arms, glaring daggers at his retreating back as he disappears into the trees.

With a dramatic huff, I plop onto a crate, determined to appear unfazed.

But boredom settles in, and the allure of a clear path tugs at my curiosity.

This is my chance, I’ll figure out the Líer thing later.

I glance around, ensuring no one’s watching, and slip off the crate.

I’m almost free when a tall woman in golden armor steps into my path, her expression unreadable. I freeze, offering a sheepish smile.

“Uh… just stretching my legs?”

Before she can reply, Declan emerges from behind a half assembled tent, his casual stance and amused smirk adding insult to injury. “Going somewhere, Aer?”

I sigh, defeated. “Just… exploring.”

Declan raises a brow, unimpressed. “Sure you are. Kaida told me and Shura here to keep an eye on you.” He grabs my arm—not harshly, but firmly—and steers me back to the crate.

“It’s like he knew you’d try to run.”

I open my mouth to argue, but Declan raises a brow, cutting me off before I can even get the first word out.

“Don’t lie. Look, Aeris, I get it. This whole situation sucks—for you, for Kaida, for everyone. But Kaida’s been my best friend since we were practically hatchlings. He comes first. Always.”

With a resigned sigh, I drop back onto the crate, the wood creaking beneath me. Declan’s not cruel—not like Kaida. There’s no sneer, no barely-contained loathing in his voice, just blunt honesty. And the nod he gives me, it’s not dismissive. It’s almost friendly. Almost.

“Stay put, yeah?”

He turns like he’s about to walk off, but instead of leaving, he surprises me by plopping down beside me. Just sits right there on the crate like it’s the most natural thing in the world, his long legs stretched out in front of him, his brown boots scuffing the dirt.

“You’re not good at following orders, are you?” Declan grins sideways at me, his golden hair falling into his eyes.

I snort, repositioning to sit cross-legged. “Depends on who’s giving them.”

“Fair.” His grin widens, all sharp teeth and easy mischief. “Kaida warned me you had a mouth on you.”

“Oh, I bet he had all sorts of nice things to say.” I roll my eyes. “Your best friend’s a real charmer.”

Declan laughs, the sound warm and surprisingly infectious. “Kaida’s about as charming as a wet boot. Don’t take it personally—he hates everyone.”

“Yeah, well, he’s doing a stellar job of making sure I hate him back.” I brush a strand of red hair out of my face, the tension in my shoulders easing just a fraction. “You’ve known him forever?”

“Since we were both too small to fly. Back then, we were just two scrappy disasters trying to set everything on fire.” Declan leans back, propping himself up on his elbows, the movement easy and relaxed.

“Kaida had this brilliant idea once—said we needed to ‘test our bravery’ by sneaking into the treasury.”

He grins, eyes bright with the memory. “We didn’t even make it past the outer hall before we triggered some kind of trap. Got doused from head to toe in green slime. Took a week to wash it off.”

I raise a brow. “Seriously?”

“Oh yeah. Turns out my father knew exactly what we were up to and set the trap himself—said it was to ‘teach us a lesson.’” Declan even throws up air quotes, shaking his head. “Personally, I think he just wanted a good laugh.”

I choke on a laugh. “Kaida? Mr. Scowl and Glare got stuck in slime?”

“Couldn’t wash it out of his hair for days. He cried, by the way. Full-on baby Dragon tears.” This memory seems familiar to me. Why?

I laugh harder at that, the image too good to resist. “I need proof.”

“Trust me, if I had a way to capture memories, I’d play it back for you on a loop.”

It’s strange, laughing like this. Sitting next to a Dragon, one of them , and actually…

enjoying it. Declan’s nothing like Kaida.

Where Kaida’s all rigid authority and thinly-veiled disgust whenever I breathe too close to him, Declan’s relaxed, open, even funny.

It throws me off balance, but not in a bad way.

“You’re not what I expected,” I admit after a beat, my voice softer than I mean it to be .

Declan raises a brow. “What, you mean because I’m not trying to rip your throat out?”

“Something like that.” I shrug. “Kaida acts like being near me is a personal insult to his entire bloodline.”

“Kaida’s… complicated.” Declan’s smile fades just a little, but there’s no bitterness there. Just understanding.

“He’s got a lot riding on his shoulders, most of it forced on him before he even had a chance to figure out who he was. Doesn’t excuse him being an ass, but—”

“Oh, don’t worry,” I cut in, grinning. “I’ll still call him an ass.”

Declan snorts, bumping his shoulder against mine. “Good. Someone needs to.”

We fall into a comfortable silence after that, the kind where you don’t feel the need to fill it with words. The distant crackle of fire and the occasional clatter echo down the corridor, but here, it’s quiet. And for the first time in what feels like forever, I’m not on edge.

He may be a Dragon, but… he’s kind of sweet. Not that I’d ever say it out loud.

I’m close to nodding off when Kaida finally returns, Declan is the first to notice him, standing up with a lazy stretch, his hands sliding into his pockets.

“Welp, my duty’s done,” Declan says with a grin. “Nice talking to you, Aer.” He gives me a wink, then strolls off toward the tents, whistling a low, off-key tune as he goes.

Kaida’s movement is fluid, his shadows curling and flickering at his heels like restless hounds. There’s a satisfied gleam in his eyes, like he’s just returned from something far too enjoyable.

“Oh, look at you,” he says, voice rich with mockery. “Didn’t expect you to be so well-behaved.”

I huff, sitting up straighter. “Not like I had much of a choice since you left me with a babysitter,” I mutter, deliberately looking away. Of course, he hears me anyway.

Kaida’s laugh rolls out, low and smug, the kind that makes my skin crawl. The shadows around him pulse in time with his amusement, slithering and curling closer like they’re eager to join in.

“Don’t worry,” he says, “Declan’s much better company than me. You should count yourself lucky.”

I glare at him, but before I can snap back, he reaches out and grabs my wrist again, pulling me along with his usual force.

“Hey!” I yank my arm back as best I can. “I can follow without being dragged, you know.”

Kaida glances over his shoulder, amusement glinting in his gaze. “I’ll let you walk on your own when I’m sure you won’t sprint off the second I turn my back.”

Together, we make our way to the center of the camp, where a large tent is set up.

He pulls me inside and finally releases my wrist. As soon as I step in, I can’t help but roll my eyes.

It’s decked out just like his room back in the castle, rich red fabrics draped along the walls, an over-the-top bed piled with pillows, even a round table with cushy chairs.

I plop down in one of the chairs, crossing my arms. “Can you survive without luxury? Or do you have a… cha-lin-deer stashed in here somewhere?”

Heat rushes to my face as Kaida arches a brow, his smirk widening as I fumble over the word. His low chuckle fills the space. “You mean chandelier,” he corrects, his tone as insufferable as ever.

“Whatever,” I mutter, sinking deeper into the chair and crossing my arms tighter.

He smirks, “We’re going on a hunt soon. Can I trust you to stay here?”

I sit up, surprised, and I can’t keep the excitement from leaking into my voice. “Can I… go with you?” I ask, almost hesitantly. “Hunting was the one thing I was actually good at.”

He studies me, his expression unreadable. “If I give you a bow, you’re not going to turn it on me, are you? Because I can burn you alive before the arrow even leaves the string.”

Not yet . “No,” I say instead, giving him an earnest look. “I just miss the forest. I want to feel the earth under my feet again.”

He sighs, though I catch the softening in his expression. “Fine. Don’t make me regret it,” he says, reluctantly handing me a bow from the side of the tent.

A grin splits across my face, and Kaida grunts, clearly begrudging this small victory. “Let’s go, Fae,” he mutters, dragging me out of the tent, though his grip is lighter now.

Once we’re out of the camp, I take a deep breath, letting the scent of damp earth and pine fill my senses.

The tension in my shoulders melts a bit, replaced by a sense of calm I haven’t felt in ages.

Kaida tosses me a quiver, and I strap it on, feeling the weight of the arrows settle comfortably against my back.

He watches as I string the bow, and for the first time, I swear I catch a hint of approval in his eyes.

“Not bad,” he mutters, before turning and leading the way into the woods.

The forest air clings heavy with the earthy scent of damp leaves and pine.

Each crunch beneath my boots feels sharp against the noise of the guards’ clumsy, heavy steps.

Their lack of grace grates on me, breaking the harmony of the whispering wind, the distant bird calls, and the occasional rustle of unseen creatures.

This forest is alive, and I drink it all in like it might vanish any moment.

A loud snap echoes—a twig beneath a guard’s foot—and I grind my teeth. My hands ball into fists at my sides as a frustrated groan escapes me. Beside me, Kaida catches the sound. His head tilts slightly, and with a sharp flick of his wrist, he raises his hand, signaling a stop.

The guards freeze, exchanging uncertain glances as Kaida turns to them, his voice low but cutting.

“Let’s split up. I’ll take the Fae this way.

You three, go that way,” he orders. One of the guards protests, “But, sir—” Before he can finish, shadows flare out around Kaida, silencing the protest with a threatening crackle.

The guards stiffen, quickly nodding in agreement.

They turn and head in the direction Kaida pointed, muttering under their breaths.

As the noise fades, I exhale, tension bleeding from my shoulders. He sent them away. Why? The thought lingers, sharp and unwelcome. He doesn’t trust me—he’s made that abundantly clear—so why would he willingly leave himself alone with me?

Kaida turns toward me, a half-smile playing at the corners of his lips before he motions for me to follow.

And yet… I don’t feel threatened.

I fall into step behind him, grateful for the silence and his near-soundless movement through the underbrush.

If anything, hunting beside him feels shockingly normal, like we’ve done this a hundred times before.

We move in sync, our steps near silent, our breaths measured.

There’s no tension, no expectation of betrayal hanging between us, just the quiet understanding of two hunters working toward the same goal.

A foolish, fleeting thought drifts through my mind as we make our way through the forest, one I should not be entertaining.

If he weren’t a Dragon and I weren’t Fae, what would it be like?

Could we have been something else? Allies, maybe even…

No. I shove the thought away, swallowing hard against the ridiculous warmth curling in my chest.

At the end of the day, he is a Dragon. I am Fae. We are enemies. He would kill me the moment he got the chance, and I should be willing—eager—to do the same.

A shiver ripples up my spine. My steps falter, and I instinctively reach out, catching his arm. “Wait,” I whisper, my voice barely audible. “Stay still.”

Kaida’s brows lift, his eyes narrowing slightly in question, but he doesn’t move. The faint sound of grunting ahead makes the hairs on my neck stand on end. His gaze flicks to my bow, and he tilts his chin toward it. “Your shot,” he murmurs, his tone flat, but there’s a challenge in his eyes.

Swallowing, I nod and draw an arrow. My fingers tighten around the string as I line up the shot, my breathing steady and deliberate.

Time seems to slow as I release the arrow, watching it arc through the air and bury itself in the boar’s side.

It squeals, thrashing before crashing to the ground with a satisfying thud.

I let out a shaky breath, my shoulders sagging with relief.

“Good shot,” Kaida says, his voice almost… begrudgingly approving. He tilts his head slightly, lips twitching again in something that might resemble a smile—though I’m sure he’d deny it if asked.

“Thanks,” I mutter, keeping my head down to avoid his gaze. I’m not sure why it makes my cheeks heat .

Without another word, he moves to the boar, his hands working with mechanical precision.

There’s something unnervingly practiced about the way he handles the animal, like he’s done this a hundred times before.

The blade gleams briefly before he sheathes it and slings the boar over his shoulder like it’s a sack of feathers.

I watch him, still unsettled by how normal this feels.

By how easily I fell into step with him.

By the quiet, treacherous thought that whispers, Maybe in another life…

Back at camp, we rejoin the other guards, who return empty-handed.

Kaida drops the boar off with the cooks and turns to me, his gaze lingering for a moment, unreadable.

Then, in one smooth motion, he takes my bow and quiver from me and strides over to a guard, with a sharp flick of his wrist he tosses it to the guard.

“She gets this back when she leaves the tent,” he orders, his tone cold but with an undercurrent of—is that amusement? Maybe it’s just my imagination.

I blink, taken aback. “What—”

“Peace offering,” he cuts me off, his fingers closing around my wrist “Now, come on.”

He tugs me into his tent, despite my protests, I end up in his bed, lying as far from him as possible, the space between us feeling like a battlefield. No ropes this time. I can feel his eyes on me, even when I don’t look.

He chuckles softly under his breath, clearly amused by my discomfort. “You know, I’m not going to bite,” he says, his voice laced with sarcasm. “Unless you really want me to.”

“Don’t get too cocky,” I snap back, my voice edged with irritation. “I’m not the one that needs to sleep with one eye open.”

Kaida smirks in response.

“Keep it up and I’ll put the ropes back on,” I huff and turn over, determined to ignore him. Exhaustion pulls me under, but my sleep is restless. The nightmares come—flashes of fire, screams echoing like a broken record.