Page 5 of Tempest Blazing (The Dragonne Library #3)

His smile was soft and devastating. "Nothing, a rúnsearc .

Just... you're magnificent when you take command.

" He leaned forward slightly, his expression shifting to something more serious.

"Speaking of which—would you allow me to conduct my own research into the parchment?

I have... resources that might prove useful. "

I studied his face, weighing the request. The parchment was dangerous in the wrong hands, but Ciaran was hardly defenseless. If anyone could keep it safe while unlocking its secrets, it would be him.

"All right." I reached into my jacket and withdrew the ancient document, its edges worn but the symbols still eerily clear. "But I want regular updates. And if you discover anything—anything at all—I need to know immediately."

His fingers brushed mine as he took the parchment, sending an unwelcome jolt of electricity up my arm. "You have my word."

???

The training yard was a graveyard of shadows by the time I found Kane.

Dusk had settled over the Guild like a weight pressing down, turning the practice posts into dark sentinels and the weapon racks into skeletal fingers reaching toward the dying light. The only sound was the rhythmic thunk of steel biting wood—sharp, angry, relentless.

Kane stood with his back to me, driving his blade into a practice post with surgical precision. Barely controlled fury. Each strike landed exactly where he intended, the wood splintering under the assault. His white hair caught the last traces of daylight, making him look carved from ice and rage.

I hesitated at the edge of the yard. Part of me wanted to turn around, to leave him to whatever demons he was fighting. But Mason's words echoed in my mind: Kane's brilliant. Dangerous, maybe, but brilliant. If you're building something, you need him.

So I crossed the distance, my boots crunching on the gravel. Should have been enough to announce my presence. Kane didn't so much as pause in his assault on the defenseless post.

"Kane," I said when I was close enough that he couldn't pretend not to hear me.

The blade stilled mid-swing. For a moment, he held the position—muscles coiled, weapon raised—frozen in the moment before violence. Then he lowered the sword with deliberate control and turned to face me.

His blue-violet eyes were cold as winter sky. "What do you want, Tess?"

The dismissal hit like a slap. No greeting, no acknowledgment of everything we'd been through together. Just that flat, cutting question that made it clear I was interrupting something he considered far more important than whatever I might have to say.

I lifted my chin, refusing to let him see how his coldness stung. "I wanted to talk to you."

"About?" He turned back to the post, raising his blade again. The message was clear: whatever you have to say, say it quickly.

"I'm gathering people I can trust," I said, watching the tension in his shoulders. "Mason thinks you should be part of it."

Kane's laugh was sharp and bitter. "Mason thinks a lot of things." The blade came down hard enough to send wood chips flying. "Doesn't mean they're right."

"This isn't about being right," I pressed, stepping closer despite the warning in his posture. "It's about—"

"About what?" He spun to face me again, and this time there was fire in those cold eyes. "About your little collection of devoted followers? You don't need me, Tess. You've already got a dragon, a mate, and whoever else is circling you these days."

Designed to cut. And they did. Heat flared in my chest—part anger, part hurt. "That's not what this is about."

"Isn't it?" Kane's smile was sharp as his blade. "The first human Dragon Rider, gathering her court. Very romantic."

"Stop." The word came out harder than I'd intended, backed by the authority that had been growing inside me since I'd bonded with Thalon. "Just stop."

Something flickered across Kane's face—surprise, maybe, or recognition. Gone so quickly I might have imagined it.

I took a breath, centering myself. "I don't need muscle, Kane.

I need people I can trust. People who see things the rest of us miss.

" My voice softened despite my anger. "You grew up in the Guild.

You know how it works, who the players are, what the politics look like from the inside. You have connections none of us do."

Kane's jaw tightened. He turned back to the post and swung again, harder this time. The impact sent vibrations up the wooden pole. "And what happens when my father decides you're a problem?" Another swing, another spray of splinters. "You think me standing next to you makes that better?"

The mention of Silvius sent ice through my veins. I'd seen the way Kane flinched whenever his father was mentioned, the careful distance he maintained. Whatever their relationship was, it wasn't healthy.

"I don't expect you to fix anything with your father," I said quietly. "I'm not asking you to choose sides in a family fight."

Kane's next swing went wide, the blade embedding itself deep in the wood. He left it there, his hands clenched on the hilt. "You don't understand what you're asking."

"Then explain it to me."

For a moment, I thought he might. His shoulders sagged slightly, and something vulnerable flickered across his features. But then the walls slammed back up, higher and thicker than before.

"No." He yanked his blade free with more force than necessary. "I've got my own business to handle, Tess. Don't count me in."

Final. Absolute. He didn't elaborate, didn't soften the blow. Just that cold, distant voice that might as well have been a door slamming in my face.

The hurt was immediate and sharp. After everything we'd been through—the fights, the magic, the moments when I'd thought I'd seen something real beneath his icy exterior—this was how he chose to end it. Rejection wrapped in indifference.

But underneath the hurt was something harder. Something that had been forged in the fires of my childhood, tempered by years of fighting for every scrap of respect and recognition I'd ever earned.

I stepped closer, close enough that he couldn't ignore me, couldn't pretend I wasn't there. "Fine," I said, my voice steady despite the emotions churning in my chest. "But I need to know you won't work against us."

Kane went very still. His hand tightened on the sword hilt until his knuckles went white, and for a heartbeat I thought he might turn that blade on me.

Not to hurt me—I didn't think Kane was capable of that, no matter how angry he was—but to make some dramatic point about how little my opinion mattered to him.

Instead, he stared at the ruined practice post as if it held the secrets of the universe.

The silence stretched between us, taut as a bowstring. I could hear my own heartbeat, could feel the magic humming beneath my skin in response to the tension. The training yard felt smaller suddenly, the shadows deeper.

"I won't," he said finally, the words so quiet I almost missed them.

Not I won't work against you. Just I won't. But it was enough. It had to be.

I studied his profile, taking in the rigid line of his jaw, the careful way he held himself apart. Kane was keeping secrets—that much was obvious. The question was whether those secrets would eventually put us on opposite sides of whatever was coming.

But looking at him now, seeing the exhaustion he was trying so hard to hide, I found myself believing him. Whatever else Kane was hiding, whatever complicated relationship he had with his father and the Guild, he wasn't my enemy.

"Thank you," I said.

He didn't respond, didn't even acknowledge that I'd spoken. Just raised his blade again and resumed his assault on the practice post, each strike precise and controlled and utterly without mercy.

I turned to go, then paused. "Kane?"

The blade stilled, but he didn't look at me.

"When you're ready to talk about whatever's eating you alive," I said quietly, "I'll listen. No judgment, no expectations. Just... if you need someone who isn't part of the Guild politics or family drama."

This time he did turn, and for just a moment, his carefully constructed mask slipped. I saw exhaustion there, and something that might have been longing. But then the walls came back up, higher than ever.

"I won't," he said again, but this time the words sounded different. Less like a promise and more like a warning.

I nodded and walked away, leaving him alone with his demons and his blade.

But as I reached the edge of the training yard, I heard the sound of steel biting wood resume—softer now, less angry. As if my words had taken some of the rage out of his strikes.

It wasn't much. But maybe it was enough.

The shadows had fully claimed the yard by the time I looked back. Kane was just a pale figure in the darkness, still fighting battles I couldn't see. Still keeping secrets that were slowly tearing him apart.

I wanted to go back, to push harder, to demand answers. But I'd learned something important tonight: Kane would come to me when he was ready. If he was ever ready.

Until then, all I could do was trust that when the moment came, he'd choose the right side.

Even if he couldn't choose it yet.