Page 19

Dernin

Sleep eluded Dernin as his mind churned over Fyret’s scheming. The thin mat beneath him offered little comfort against the cold stone floor. With a quiet huff, he pushed himself up.

The corridors stretched dark and empty, lit only by scattered torches that cast shadows on the stone walls. Dernin slithered silently through them, his warrior training serving him well as he avoided the guards’ usual patrol routes.

“This tournament is rigged,” he muttered under his breath, his tail lashing in frustration. “Everything here is corrupt.”

His golden scales reflected the dim torchlight as he moved past another empty checkpoint.

A soft whisper cut through the silence. “Psst! Dernin!”

He whirled around, his muscles tensed for a fight, only to find Marcella emerging from the shadows.

“Someone’s here to see you and Alaysia,” she whispered.

Dernin’s brow furrowed. “At this hour?”

“Follow me.” Marcella turned and headed down a narrow passage.

They wound through the underground maze until they reached the familiar alcove. Alaysia was already there, her red hair catching the light from a single torch. Her presence made his heart skip, but he forced himself to focus on the situation at hand.

“What’s going on?” he asked, positioning himself between the entrance and Alaysia out of instinct.

“Marcella wouldn’t tell me, either,” Alaysia said, crossing her arms. “She just said we needed to come here.”

“Just wait here,” Marcella said to them.

Marcella’s footsteps faded into the darkness, leaving Dernin and Alaysia alone in the dim alcove. His tail coiled protectively around the space where they stood, creating a barrier between them and any potential threats.

Alaysia shifted in the small space. “Who could possibly be here to see us?”

Dernin tasted the air for any hint of danger. Finding none, he allowed himself to relax slightly. The familiar scent of roses filled his senses. His mate’s presence both soothed and ignited him.

“We’ll know soon enough,” he said in a low voice. “Stay close to me.”

She moved nearer to him, and his muscles tensed at her proximity. Every protective instinct in his body screamed at him to wrap her in his arms and shield her from the world. But he held back, knowing she wasn’t ready for such intimacy.

“At least the guards rarely check this section,” Alaysia said, brushing a strand of red hair from her face.

Dernin nodded. “The underground’s layout works to our advantage sometimes.”

“You seem tense,” she observed, studying his face.

If only she knew how her mere presence affected him, how every fiber within him recognized her as his mate. The urge to tell her burned in his throat, but he swallowed it down. Now wasn’t the time, not with everything else at stake.

“Just staying alert,” he replied, shifting his weight to better position himself between her and the entrance. “Old warrior habits.”

She smiled, and his heart clenched. “Those habits might save our lives one day.”

“They already have,” he said softly, remembering countless fights in the ring where thoughts of protecting her had pushed him beyond his limits.

Suddenly, footsteps echoed down the corridor and Dernin’s muscles tightened, ready to strike.

A cloaked figure emerged from the shadows, moving with a familiar grace that made his scales tingle with recognition.

The scent hit him before the hood fell back—sand, steel, and the distinct aroma of Niri leather.

“Kress?” His old patrol partner stood before them, wearing his warrior’s uniform beneath the cloak.

“It really is you!” Kress’s green eyes widened. “When we got the message, I volunteered to verify it myself.”

Dernin shifted closer to Alaysia, his protective instincts still on high alert despite recognizing his old friend. “You got our message then?”

“Yes, and the warriors are mobilizing as we speak.” Kress’s gaze flickered to Alaysia and then back to Dernin. “Five days. That’s how long it will take to gather enough forces and create a solid plan of attack.”

Relief flooded through Dernin’s body, but he kept his expression neutral. “Five days. I only have one fight left before the finals.”

“You’ve fought in their rings?” Kress’s scales bristled. “That’s no place for a warrior of Nirum.”

“I did what I had to do in order to survive,” Dernin growled. “To protect what matters.”

Understanding dawned in Kress’s eyes as he observed Dernin’s protective stance. “I see you’ve found something worth fighting for beyond duty.”

Alaysia stepped forward, her shoulder brushing against Dernin’s arm. “He’s been protecting me.”

“And I’ll continue to do so,” Dernin added, his voice dropping to a low rumble.

“But what about the Council of Seven?” Alaysia suddenly asked. “Won’t they retaliate if we bring down one of their operations?”

Kress’s scales rippled with amusement. “The Council of Seven likes to pretend they don’t know about these fighting rings, but everyone knows they profit from them. Still, they’re illegal. We have every right to shut them down.”

Dernin’s fists clenched as he remembered Fyret’s earlier conversation with Bariv. “They’re corrupt to the core. The fights are rigged.”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” Kress said, adjusting his cloak. “The council turns a blind eye to a lot of things they shouldn’t.”

“And Marcella?” Alaysia pressed. “We promised to get her out, too.”

“We’ll get everyone out,” Dernin growled, his protective instincts flaring. His tail curled closer around Alaysia without him consciously willing it. “All the slaves.”

Kress nodded. “Any slaves we find will be freed. The council won’t be able to object without admitting their involvement in illegal activities.”

Relief washed over Dernin’s body, though he maintained his guarded stance. The familiar scent of his old patrol partner brought back memories of easier days, when his biggest concern had been completing his rounds on time.

“Thank you, Kress,” Dernin said, his voice rough with emotion. “You risked much coming here.”

“We’re brothers in arms,” Kress replied. “When I heard you might be alive...” He glanced at the shadows beyond their alcove. “I have to go. Dawn approaches, and I can’t be seen here.”

“Be careful,” Alaysia whispered.

Kress’s scales shifted colors, blending with the shadows. “Five days,” he reminded them and then disappeared into the darkness.

Dernin’s senses remained alert, tracking his friend’s departure until he could no longer detect him. Only then did he allow his muscles to relax slightly, though he remained hyperaware of every sound and movement around them.

His tail unconsciously curled closer around Alaysia, who stood trembling slightly beside him.

“Five days,” she whispered, her voice catching. “We could actually be free.”

The hope in her voice made his heart pound faster. He turned to face her in the dim torchlight. “We will be free. The warriors of Nirum never break their word.”

“And until then?” Her blue eyes searched his face.

“Until then, I’ll keep winning.” His voice dropped lower. “No one will lay a hand on you. Except maybe me if you permit it.”

Alaysia’s cheeks reddened. “I should really get back to my quarters.”

“I’ll escort you there just to be safe.”

They soon moved through the shadowy corridors toward her quarters, Dernin’s powerful form clearing the way. His senses remained alert for any guards or unwanted attention, though his focus kept drifting to the soft sound of her footsteps beside him.

At her door, Alaysia paused, her hand resting on the cold metal. “The final fight is in two days.”

“Yes.” His scales rippled in anticipation.

“What if...” She bit her lip, looking down. “What if you lose?”

The mere suggestion made his jaw clench. “That won’t happen.”

“But if it does?” Her voice quavered. “Bariv—”

“Listen to me.” Dernin moved closer, his tail creating a protective semicircle around them. He took her hands in his, marveling at how small and delicate they felt. “Win or lose, I won’t let anyone harm you. I’d die first.”

Her fingers tightened around his. “I don’t want you to die, either.”

The scent of her fear mixed with something sweeter—something that made his warrior’s blood sing. He brought her hands to his lips, pressing a kiss to each one. “Trust me, Alaysia. Five days from now, we’ll both be free.”

She nodded, though worry still clouded her eyes along with a hint of something else he couldn’t quite name. Dernin forced himself to release her hands and step back, every instinct screaming at him to stay, to guard her door all night.

“Sleep well,” he murmured, watching as she slipped inside.

The metal door clanged shut, and Dernin pressed his palm against it. He allowed himself one moment of weakness before straightening his spine and heading back to his own quarters. He had a tournament to win.