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Chapter Thirty One

I stepped into my bedroom, desperate for Clay, the words pouring out of me as easily as the tears streaking down my cheeks.

“It’s true,” I choked, my voice trembling. “I mean, I think somehow I knew it was true, but hearing him confirm it was—was something else entirely. He created me out of the bones of Eckna, Clay. The fucking monster that Ciclopia created.”

I stopped short. Clay hadn’t turned to me.

He hadn’t even acknowledged my presence.

He stood across the room by the windows, where the faint starlight caught the shimmering golden scales crawling over his back and shoulders.

His claws, long and black as obsidian, flipped through one of the discarded books I’d left on my desk.

“Clay?” I whispered, taking a tentative step closer, unsure if I was speaking to my lover or the dragon within him.

When he finally turned, the breath left my lungs. Veins along his neck pulsed with inky blackness, his face framed by scales that glinted in the dim light. His eyes, glowing gold and slitted, bore into me with a predatory intensity that made my knees weaken.

“What happened?” I asked, fear knotting my stomach.

He lifted a page that had I had tucked inside the book and held it up between us. It trembled in his clawed hand as he stepped toward me, his voice a low, guttural growl. “What is this? ”

It was a sketch—my sketch.

I felt the blood drained from my face. The likeness was unmistakable: Caldrius, his sharp features rendered with meticulous precision.

The waves of his dark hair, the commanding set of his jaw, the piercing intensity of his eyes.

Looking at Clay holding it, it was impossible to deny the family resemblance, no matter how far removed they were.

They had the same arched brows. The same pointed jawline.

“I can explain,” I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Please do.” His tone was a venomous lash.

He held the sketch higher, shaking it as he stepped closer, heat radiating off him.

“Explain to me how you managed to create a perfect drawing of a man whose image has been erased from existence. The only images of Caldrius are locked in the Zion Archives—images I’ve only seen once in my entire life.

So tell me, Thea. How can you explain this? ”

The words clogged my throat, too heavy to admit.

“I’ve… met him,” I finally admitted, each word sinking like a stone in the air. “In the Underworld.”

Clay recoiled. His hand trembled, crushing the paper between his claws. “You’ve what?”

“I’ve met him,” I repeated, my voice cracking. “Shortly after I realized it was the Underworld, Hyrax introduced us. Caldrius is his second in command.”

“And you what? Spend time with him?”

I chewed on my lip, unease curling in my stomach. “He’s helped answer questions for me. He helped me find the bangle I used to free Camilla.”

He turned away, his shoulders rising and falling with labored breaths. “After everything we’ve been through,” he said, his voice low, barely restrained, “after last night, why keep this from me? ”

The truth tangled in my throat. I’d wanted to tell him, intended to tell him—but I hadn’t, and I wasn’t entirely sure why I had left Caldrius out of the story when I started telling Clay the truth.

Maybe I’d feared this exact moment, this exact reaction. Or maybe I hadn’t wanted to admit that I’d trusted Caldrius. That I’d seen a side of him that history had erased.

“I don’t know,” I confessed, my voice a broken whisper.

“Is he...” His voice trailed off as he turned back to me, claws flexing, while he considered his next words. “Do you have feelings for him?

The question hit me like a slap. “No! Gods, no.”

He scoffed, bitterness twisting his lips. “Is that such an outrageous question? You went to him for answers, Thea. Confided in him long before you were ever forced to be honest with me.”

I went to him, grasping his hands despite the heat of his skin. “Yes, it is a ridiculous question! I love you , Clayton. Only you. It’s only ever been you.”

I stressed each word, needing him to hear them, to memorize them, to feel the truth of them in his bones.

He looked down at our hands—mine pale and trembling, his blackened and clawed. He pulled away, his expression a mix of fury and heartbreak.

“Every time I think we’re finally moving forward, some new lie comes to light that sets us backwards again,” he said, voice heavy with pain.

“First it was sneaking out of the castle. Then you hid the limits of your powers. Then it was freeing Camilla. I forgave it all because you promised me there would be no more secrets, Thea. But here we are. Again.”

The sharp crack of his words shattered something in me. My chest ached, tears blurring my vision. “Caldrius is nothing to me, Clay. Maybe at one time I considered him a… friend, but I know better now. He’s a liar, just like Hyrax. I feel absolutely nothing for him. ”

He leveled his eyes on mine, jaw tight, searching my gaze and understanding the meaning that was hidden under my vow. “But he feels something for you.”

There was no sense in denying that—not anymore.

“I look like someone he lost,” I breathed, my voice trembling. “That’s all.”

Clay’s jaw tightened, his claws flexing as he stared at me, his voice breaking when he finally spoke. “And you didn’t think I deserved to know?”

Tears streamed down my face. “I didn’t know how to tell you.”

“Did you think it would matter to me? I’ve stood by you through everything.

I knew the moment I watched you kill a ballroom full of people without even moving that there was something more to you.

You told me you were prophesied to free Hyrax and my only concern was protecting you.

Even tonight I sat here all night worried for your safety, even though I watched you tear through the unbreakable Veil that protects this realm.

What is the point of keeping things from me now? Haven’t I proven myself to you?”

I swallowed against the building tightness in my throat. “You don’t have to prove anything to me. I just - I didn’t know how you would react. I didn’t know what you would think.”

Clay looked away, clenching his jaw against his own emotions as he took a step back away from me. “Then, after all this time, you simply don’t trust me.”

“It’s not that-"

“It is!” he insisted. “I don’t know how many other ways I can say this to you, Thea. I love you. I choose you. Over everything. Over my kingdom. Over my own life if it comes to it. But your secrets are going to tear us apart.”

My heart twisted painfully, his words cutting deeper than any blade. “I don’t want to lose you. ”

“Thea, if you haven’t given me all your secrets, then you haven’t given me all of your heart either.”

Clay turned away, breathing deeply until the scales retreated into his skin.

He ran a hand over his face and moved toward the door, pulling his tunic over his shoulders.

“Rankor and Kent should be back soon with Iris. I should be there to greet them and discuss battle strategies. That’s what I’m good at. ”

“I’ll come with you,” I offered, desperate to mend the fragile threads between us.

He held up a hand, avoiding my gaze. “No. Just… stay here, Thea. Please. I just need some time.”

The door slammed behind him; the sound reverberating through the silence that followed.

I stood there, alone, my chest hollow, the broken pieces of my heart scattering at my feet.

I must have cried myself to sleep because I woke suddenly, eyes crusted over, to the sound of Elaina screaming my name.

Panic surged through me as I bolted upright, still fully dressed in my battle leathers.

I rushed out of the room and practically flew down the stairs to find Elaina by the window, her knuckles white as they gripped the edge of the sill.

Camilla was behind her, propped up on the couch, her eyes wide and alert despite the strain evident on her face.

“What is it?” I demanded, skidding to a stop beside Elaina.

Camilla answered, her voice grim. “Iris is here. ”

My stomach dropped. Outside, Iris moved like a storm, her blades flashing under the early morning light as she cut through Rankor's and Kent’s defenses.

For all their size and skill, she handled them with deadly ease, her movements fluid, her slight frame deceptively powerful. She didn’t even look winded.

“I didn’t know she could do that,” I whispered.

“Of course she can,” Elaina said, her voice tight with a mixture of fear and admiration. “She’s a member of the Order.”

A pained groan from Camilla snapped Elaina’s attention back to her patient. She rushed to Camilla’s side, pressing her down onto the couch. “You need to stay still,” she said firmly. “You’re going to reopen those wounds.”

Camilla’s gaze flicked back to the window, resignation etched into her features. “I hope you got the information you needed,” she hissed. “Because she won’t stop until she kills me.”

Just then, the front door flew open with a thunderous crash.

Iris strode in, her scarlet hair streaming like blood down her back.

Dressed in black leather, her blades gleamed like an extension of her own hands.

Her piercing eyes locked on Camilla, burning with unrelenting fury, as she surged forward.

“Iris, stop!” I screamed, throwing up a hand instinctively.

My power flared, and an invisible barrier sprang up between her and Camilla. Iris rebounded off it with a growl, her gaze snapping to me.

“Put it down,” she snarled, her voice a low, dangerous command.

“I can’t do that,” I said softly.

Her eyes narrowed, and she took a threatening step toward me, one of her daggers twirling effortlessly between her fingers. “Put it down!”

Clay rushed inside, stepping between us, his commanding presence shifting the air in the room. “Enough!” he ordered .