Page 37 of Lord of the Lone Wolf (Bonded Hearts #3)

Jaega

T he interior of Kitsuki’s tent was a testament to the skills of their Enchanters.

He sat beside the silver fire burning in the central brazier, having exchanged his formal battle attire for a simple tunic of midnight blue and white breeches.

His long hair fell around his shoulders, free from the tight warrior’s braid he wore during combat.

Despite their victory, tension lined his face.

Jaega settled into the chair, noting the untouched plate of fruit on the small table between them.

The silver fire crackled, fueled by Kitsuki’s dragon magic.

Outside, soldiers spoke in hushed tones, weapons being sharpened on whetstones, and pots clinked as cooks prepared meals for the warriors.

The tent city sprawled across the forested foothills, an organized marvel of efficiency nestled among the trees for protection and camouflage.

“You mentioned you had an urgent matter to discuss with me,” Jaega said when his nephew remained pensive.

“Something happened during my battle with Rethus,” Kitsuki replied. He raised his hand, palm upward. Silver smoke swirled above his fingers, coalescing into a shimmering cloud. A weapon materialized, which sent dread coursing through Jaega.

The sword appeared to be carved from a single piece of obsidian-black bone, its surface etched with intricate carvings. Unlike when Jaega had faced such weapons thousands of years ago, the runes lay dormant now, their malevolent power contained without a living wielder to feed upon.

“Rethus carried this,” Kitsuki said. “When our blades met, it drained my ice magic. If history holds true, it would have consumed my life force had it touched my flesh.”

Jaega leaned away from the suspended weapon, centuries-old instincts flaring to life. “Then the rumors our scouts reported are true. Necromancy has returned to our lands.”

“Could it be Ishibiya?” Kitsuki asked, his silver eyes reflecting the dancing flames.

Jaega shook his head, his gaze fixed on the bone blade. “This lacks his mastery. His weapons were far more elegant in their corruption, and he never wasted time arming living soldiers. His focus was always on controlling the dead directly.”

“Then someone else must have discovered the forbidden knowledge,” Kitsuki concluded.

“Perhaps,” Jaega said, his brow furrowing. “I once believed all the necromancers were hunted down after the war. But then, I also thought the unicorn shifters were extinct until I met Fersen. If one magical bloodline could survive in secret, perhaps a necromancer did as well.”

“Rethus was still alive, though corrupted. His skin had turned gray, with veins of toxic green pulsing beneath. His eyes glowed with the same sickly hue, but he was still alive.”

“The early stages of necromantic influence,” Jaega explained. “The living warrior becomes a conduit for death magic, transforming until nothing human remains. During the war, we called them the Hollowed.”

Kitsuki dismissed the bone blade, watching as the silver smoke dissipated and took the weapon with it. “Could someone have preserved Ishibiya’s knowledge after his defeat?”

“It would be forbidden. After the war, all texts on necromancy were burned, and all practitioners executed. But knowledge has a way of surviving, especially when it promises power to those willing to pay its price.”

Kitsuki frowned. “Nasume has always craved what he cannot have.”

“And now he reaches for the forbidden.” Jaega heaved a wary sigh. “This changes our approach to Norello. If Nasume has embraced necromancy, we face more than conventional forces.”

“What can we expect?”

Jaega considered his answer. “If this practitioner follows the traditional progression, the bone weapons come first, followed by corrupting living soldiers. After that, the animation of the deceased.”

“And beyond that?” Kitsuki prompted.

“Powers help us if they conjure necrowings.” The name alone stirred dread in Jaega’s heart.

“Massive constructs of bone, resembling dragons in their skeletal form but perverted by necromancy’s death magic.

They fly without flesh wings, screaming with the voices of all the souls bound within them.

A single necrowing has the power to devastate an entire battalion.

And if any of them turn into soulvores, we will surely lose. ”

Kitsuki’s expression remained composed, but Jaega noted the tightening of his jaw. “We must discover what awaits us to make better plans.”

“Agreed. Lieutenant Norkon could provide that intelligence. His raven form allows him to observe without detection, and he has proven his worth as a scout many times over.”

“Can he depart tonight?”

Jaega nodded. “I will summon him. His talents are uniquely suited to this task.”

Kitsuki’s gaze drifted toward the large map spread across his desk. “I wonder why Kizoshi did not show herself during today’s battle.”

“She would not appear for a skirmish so easily won,” Jaega replied with fondness for his niece. “It is her style to reserve her strength for the final grand battle, where she will rain down dragon fire on our enemies.”

“True. My sister has always had a flair for dramatic entrances.”

Jaega allowed himself a small smile. “Kizoshi will arrive when we need her most, when Nasume himself takes the field.” When they fell into silence, he continued. “Maseo’s performance impressed me today. He fought with remarkable skill and courage.”

Kitsuki’s posture stiffened. “He did.”

“My commander informed me Maseo saved five of our soldiers from an ambush,” Jaega continued. “At considerable risk to himself.”

“His actions proved our judgment sound,” Kitsuki acknowledged, his voice measured. “He has earned his place among our warriors.”

Jaega chose his next words with care, sensing the weight his nephew carried. “It cannot be easy for him to fight against his own father, regardless of their estrangement. His commitment to our cause speaks to his character. I find it hard to believe they are related when they are such opposites.”

Kitsuki’s gaze remained distant. “The difference is striking.”

“His devotion to you and Auslin is clear in every action he takes. Some bonds form quickly yet run deeper than time itself. Even across centuries of life, such connections remain rare and precious.”

“What are you implying, Uncle?”

“That recognizing such a bond need not bring shame,” Jaega answered. “He is a fine young man who has lived without receiving the kindness and affection his gentle heart deserves. To acknowledge what exists between the three of you honors the gift given to you.”

Kitsuki’s shoulders tensed. “Auslin and I have agreed to wait until after the war ends. The timing is not appropriate for such considerations.”

Jaega nodded with approval. “Your restraint shows wisdom. War demands focus, and Maseo needs stability, not the confusion of navigating new emotions while facing his father in battle.”

“Maseo has enough burdens without adding our complications to them.”

Jaega inclined his head, pleased by his nephew’s maturity. “Your patience will serve you well. When the time comes to explore what lies between you, it will be without the shadow of war hanging over your hearts.”

Kitsuki’s expression softened. “Your understanding means more than I can express, Uncle.”

“Family supports one another through all of life’s complexities. Love in any form is not something to fear but to cherish when it comes.”

“I appreciate your counsel, as always.”

Jaega rose from his seat. “I will summon Lieutenant Norkon. The sooner he departs, the more intelligence he can gather before dawn.”

Kitsuki agreed. “I will await his report.”

Jaega departed the royal tent. The forest smells mingled with those of the military camp, pine and earth alongside steel and leather.

They were far enough from the battlefield that the scent of blood wasn’t carried on the wind.

Dragon fires burned at intervals along the packed-earth streets, providing light without smoke or the risk of spreading to the canvas structures.

Jaega made his way to his own tent, no less luxurious than Kitsuki’s but decorated in the warm oranges and golds that reflected his own magic rather than the silvers and blues of the king. His personal guard snapped to attention as he approached.

“Summon Lieutenant Norkon to my tent,” Jaega instructed. “The matter is urgent.”

“Yes, General.” The guard bowed, then departed to carry out the order.

Inside, the orange fire in his brazier cast a warm glow over the rich furnishings. He had settled at his desk when Lieutenant Rylan Norkon arrived, who entered with a formal bow. “You summoned me, General?”

“I have a mission of utmost importance,” Jaega replied without preamble. “It requires your unique talents and absolute discretion.”

Norkon straightened, his dark eyes alert. “I stand ready.”

“What I tell you does not leave this tent. We have encountered evidence of a necromancer in Nasume’s forces,” Jaega stated. “The king requires intelligence about what awaits us in Norello.”

Norkon’s posture tensed. “You need me to conduct reconnaissance tonight?”

“Yes. Approach as close to the city as you can manage. Observe any unusual activity, such as rituals, strange constructions, or unnatural gatherings. The information is vital, but not at the cost of your life or discovery. If Nasume has a necromancer in his service, they may possess means to detect intrusion that go beyond conventional methods.”

Norkon nodded, his posture straightening with the gravity of his assignment. “Understood. I will fly there, then report back as quickly as possible. With your permission, I will depart immediately.”

“Granted. May the Powers watch over your path.”

As Norkon left, Jaega felt the weight of command settle more heavily upon his shoulders.

The discovery of necromancy changed everything.

What had begun as a war over territory and power now threatened to become something far more insidious.

The conflict could corrupt the very boundary between life and death.

His personal valet, Grisden, stepped inside, carrying a tray with a meal and fresh water. The dragon shifter had served Jaega since the general’s youth, his loyalty unwavering through countless campaigns.

“Forgive the interruption, but you have not eaten since before the battle,” Grisden said, his voice carrying the gentle rasp of age. “You must keep up your strength when tomorrow promises to be arduous.”

Jaega felt a smile soften his features despite the gravity of their situation. “Your timing is impeccable, as always, Grisden.”

“It is my duty to anticipate your desires,” the valet replied, setting the tray on the table near the fire. “Particularly when you are too focused on the needs of others to consider your own.”

“The troops are settled for the night?” Jaega asked as he took a seat at the table.

“As much as any soldier can, knowing there is another battle on the horizon,” Grisden confirmed, moving with practiced efficiency to straighten items on Jaega’s desk. “Will you require anything else this evening?”

“No, that will be all. Get some rest. The days ahead will demand much from us all.”

As Grisden departed with a respectful bow, Jaega stared into the orange fire, which cast long shadows across his tent. His thoughts turned to the battles that lay ahead on the road to Norello.

But he had faced necromancy before and survived.

He would do so again, not only for himself or for Kitsuki but for every Valzerna soldier who trusted him with their life.

Whatever darkness Nasume had embraced, whatever horrors awaited them on the battlefield, they would face it together, with courage and honor.

The fire burned in the brazier, a beacon against the encroaching night.