Worry twists inside my body like thorny vines as I follow the Unseelie King to the room where Draven and the other dragon shifters are sleeping after being healed by Haldia. Orion said that they were wounded severely while buying Grey time to open the portal. My own memories of that chaotic battle are all messed up due to Kander’s magic, so I don’t know how bad it was.

My heart beats hard in my chest as we draw closer to the door, and I have to flex my hand repeatedly to try to keep my mind on track. That intense worry for Draven is mingling with the now overwhelming grief from watching my parents die several hundred times over the past twelve hours and the crushing regret that I will never know if they loved me. Seeing them look at me with resentment right before they died several hundred times has turned that regret into poison that now seeps through my veins all the time.

As Orion and I walk along the pale stone corridor, I desperately cast my gaze around in search of someone that I can use my magic on. But only rich blue carpets and beautiful paintings of northern lights stare back at me. Flexing my hand again, I try to swallow down the desperate need for relief that using my magic would give me.

“I said, get out of my way!” Draven’s voice booms from the room at the end of the corridor. “I need to see her.”

“I know, but that healer girl also said to take it easy,” Alistair replies. “And you were dripping blood all over the damn floor when we carried you in here.”

My heart clenches.

“Sounds like they’re awake,” Orion comments as we close the final distance to the door. “Though I suppose it shouldn’t surprise me.” He slides me a look from the corner of his eye. “It took me longer to break you than I thought.”

“I’m healed now,” Draven growls back at Alistair. “Azaroth’s flame⁠—”

“Ryat,” Isera interrupts. “She’s with Orion. He’s trying to help her.”

“The… extent of what I did to you stays between us,” Orion tells me in a low voice as we reach the door. “Agreed?”

I nod. “Agreed.”

“And you trust him?” Draven replies to Isera. “After he found out that you lied to him, he⁠—”

Orion yanks the door open and saunters inside. “Well, speak of the handsome king and he shall appear.”

Everyone whirls towards the door. They’re all there. Galen is sitting up in a bed by the window. His blond hair is mussed and his violet eyes are filled with worry as he glances between Draven and the door. In the bed opposite his, Lyra is halfway to her feet, looking groggy but otherwise unharmed.

There are two more beds in the room. One is occupied by Diana Artemesia, the leader of the Purple Dragon Clan. The other is currently empty, the rumpled sheets hanging halfway to the floor as if they were thrown off in a hurry.

Isera is leaning against the wall with her arms crossed, and Alistair is standing in front of the final person close to that empty bed. My eyes go straight to that person.

Draven.

The agony of watching him be tortured and seeing him look at me with pure hatred in an endless loop for over twelve hours hits me all over again when I see him standing there. A choked sob rips from my chest, and I dart around Orion as I sprint into the room and crash straight into Draven’s chest.

He wraps his arms around me tightly, even as the force of my body makes him stagger back and sit down on the bed again. I curl up in his lap, pressing myself tighter into his embrace, and hug him so hard that any other person would have winced.

Draven just strokes my hair and murmurs, “You’re okay. You’re okay.”

My heart breaks all over again, and tears flow down my cheeks, making his soft black shirt wet. Pressing myself harder against him, I cry into his chest. Because I’m not okay. I’m really, really not okay. But I can’t tell him that.

While holding me protectively, Draven raises his head and demands, “What the fuck did you do to her? If you hurt her, I will fucking kill you.”

“Interesting threat from someone who has spent the past month or so doing nothing but hurt her,” Orion snipes back. “Have you forgotten all the cruel things you said and did to her these past few weeks?”

Draven flinches.

Snapping my head up, I lock hard eyes on Orion. “Don’t you dare imply that he did any of that willingly. My magic forcibly changed his entire personality. Can you even imagine what it was like for him? He was forced to be unbelievably cruel to his own fated mate while deep down his soul was screaming in pain at what he was doing, but he also couldn’t stop because my magic was forcing him to continue doing it even though it was tearing him apart from the inside.” My eyes are serious as I hold Orion’s gaze. “It was as awful for him as it was for me.”

Orion opens his mouth, but he seems to understand, because he just slowly closes it again and tilts his head in a small nod of acknowledgement.

“And you,” I continue, looking up at Draven. “Please don’t threaten Orion. All he did was to help me.”

Hesitation blows across Draven’s features, and he lowers his voice as he asks, “Then why are you crying?”

“I was just so worried about you.” Resting my cheek against his chest, I listen to the steady beat of his heart while hating myself for lying to him. But I can’t tell him the true extent of what Orion did to me. For all of our sakes. “Orion said that you got seriously hurt. And I was just so worried.”

Some of the tension goes out of Draven’s shoulders, and he strokes my hair again while bending down to kiss the top of my head. “I’m okay. I promise.”

I can’t stop another small sob from escaping my lips. Keeping my eyes closed, I just remain like that, curled up on Draven’s lap with his strong arms around me and his calming scent of night mist and embers filling my lungs with every breath. I don’t even care that there are seven other people in this room right now, watching me break down and cry like this. When he holds me like this, it makes me feel as if everything is going to be okay. And I really need to feel that right now.

“She’s back to normal?” Isera asks from the other side of the room. “You were able to break von Graf’s memory magic with your own?”

“I did indeed. As promised,” Orion replies, sounding smug. “After all, I am very good at what I do.”

“So you can do that to us too, then?” Alistair asks. “If the same thing happens to us?”

There is a slight pause. I just keep my arms around Draven, breathing him in, while I try to force my heart to stop pounding and my mind to clear.

“No,” Orion admits slowly. “Selena is… uniquely suited for the kind of technique I used. I would not be able to replicate it on the rest of you.”

Alistair curses softly under his breath.

Silence descends on the room. I don’t want to leave Draven’s embrace, because then the real world will rush back in. And so will the pain and regret and the terrible, terrible craving for magic. But I force myself to pull my arms back and climb off his lap.

He reluctantly lets me go. However, before I can take a step back, he cups my cheeks and gives me an achingly gentle kiss.

“Are you okay?” he whispers against my lips, so softly that only I can hear.

With my forehead still resting on his, I nod. Because I don’t trust myself to speak right now. He would hear the lies in my voice.

“We still need to talk about what happened while I had that flame of hatred in my chest,” he whispers, and I can hear the pain in his voice at the reminder of what he did.

“I know,” I breathe back. “And we will. When all this is over.”

“So, what now?” Diana asks into the oppressive silence.

Pulling back from Draven, I straighten fully on the floor. His fingers trail down my arm as I take a step back. Running my gaze up and down his body, I quickly scan him for injuries. When I first barreled through the door, I was just so focused on holding him that I barely took in his appearance. I do now.

Relief washes through me when I find no visible injuries. He’s wearing a black shirt and a pair of soft dark pants rather than his armor, and his black hair is slightly messy. Though that might be more my fault than anything else. No traces of any wounds. Whatever Haldia did to heal him, she did well.

While shoving down the pain and regret and terrible cravings that still wreak havoc inside me, I force a smile to my lips. Then I turn to look at the rest of the room so that Draven won’t be able to see through my façade.

My eyebrows shoot up as I sweep my gaze through the rest of the room. “Where is Lavendera?”

“Not here,” Isera replies from where she is still leaning against the wall. As always, there is an unreadable expression on her face, but her gaze keeps shifting to Orion every few seconds. “The Dryad Queen took her back to their realm.”

“What? But they promised that they would help!”

“She said they’re coming back,” Alistair interjects with a shrug. “And we couldn’t exactly stop her. Since, you know, she’s a tree and all that.”

“So, what’s the plan?” Diana repeats. Suspicion shines in her green eyes as she shifts her gaze from face to face before finally settling on Draven. “I picked a side in this war by helping you fight the Silver Clan back there, Shadow of Death. And they have Kander under their thumb now.” With her eyes still on Draven, she nods towards Orion. “And the Unseelie King here just said that he won’t be able to break us out of it if we’re hit by that memory magic. So, how do we stop the Icehearts from forcing Kander to wipe our memories?”

“We find the Gold Clan,” I reply before Draven can even open his mouth.

I still remember the utter exhaustion on his face when I found him in that empty room in the Golden Palace where he let his composed mask slip. Still remember the edge in his voice when he told me that it’s fucking exhausting to always have to be the one who is responsible for everything and everyone. I will not let him feel like that again. He deserves someone who helps him carry that weight.

“They have shield magic and can put up wards,” I continue, looking from face to face. “So if we can get them on our side, they can use their magic to protect us from all kinds of attacks. Kander’s memory magic included.”

“Yeah, but how do we find the Gold Clan?” Alistair asks while arching a pale eyebrow at me. “We still have no idea where they are. They could⁠—”

Lyra gasps. Throwing the final sheets off her legs, she leaps fully to her feet. Her wavy brown hair flutters around her shoulders as she whips her head from side to side, and her orange eyes are wide as she meets our gazes. “The Icehearts have the Green Clan!”

“Uhm, yeah, Lyra,” Galen replies from the bed opposite her. There’s a frown on his face as he looks at her. “That’s what we were just talking about.”

“No, you don’t understand.” She shakes her head frantically. “The archives. Azaroth’s flame, we thought they wanted the Gold Clan so that they could get the Green Clan. But it’s the other way around. They wanted the Green Clan and their archives so that they can find the Gold Clan!”

“Oh shit,” Alistair says, very eloquently summarizing what we’re all feeling.

Draven massages his brow and mutters, “Fuck.” Then he stands up as well and rolls his shoulders back. And within seconds, the Commander of the Dread Legion is standing there, exuding power and control. “Alright, we need to get to the Gold Clan first.”

“How?” Diana demands. “We still don’t know where they are.”

“So we do what everyone does when they don’t know where they’re going but don’t want to admit that,” I say.

They all turn to look at me in silent question.

I frown at them in confusion, because I thought the answer to that would be obvious, but I explain anyway. “We follow someone who does.”

“Sneaky.” Lyra grins. “I like it.”

Draven lets out a low chuckle. “Alright, let’s do it. Bane and Jessina know where the Gold Clan is, or they will soon at least, so we just follow them there and then steal the Gold Clan first.” He shifts his gaze to Diana. “That plan enough for you?”

She tilts her head to the side as if considering but then finally nods.

“Good.” Draven looks to Orion. “Where’s my armor?”

“In the room I allowed you to stay in last time,” the Unseelie King replies.

Draven dips his chin in acknowledgement and then starts towards the door. But he only makes it two steps before someone else speaks up.

“So,” Isera begins. Still leaning against the wall with her arms crossed, she slides her gaze to Orion. “Does this mean that you’re still with us?”

“Even though you lied and trapped me in a fake bargain?” he finishes for her, his black and silver eyes sharp.

Isera says nothing. Only continues watching him in silence.

Tension crackles like lightning in the otherwise bright and airy room. Everyone else is frozen on the floor, watching the two of them as they stare each other down.

“Perhaps,” Orion finally replies, but he draws out the word, making it sound like the answer depends on what he gets in return.

Isera clenches her jaw for a few seconds. It looks like she has to force her next words out of her mouth. “What do you want?”

A slow smirk curves Orion’s lips as he lets the silence stretch, and his eyes glint dangerously as he keeps them locked on Isera. “I want you to say please. I want you to admit that you cannot do this without me.”

“Please, Orion, we—” I begin, but he immediately cuts me off.

“No. Not you.” His eyes remain fixed on Isera. “Her.”

By the wall, Isera draws in a highly controlled breath. Lightning flickers in her blue and silver eyes as she holds his gaze. He just stares right back at her, daring her to do it.

A low growl comes from her chest. Then she opens her mouth.

“Not from over there,” Orion says before the first word can leave her lips. “I want you to look me in the eye properly.”

Grinding her teeth, she glares at him while a muscle flickers in her jaw. But Orion doesn’t back down. Instead, he raises his hand and curls a commanding finger at her. She lets out a soft snarl.

With jerky movements, she pushes off from the wall and stalks across the floor until she is standing right in front of him. Since he is taller than her, she has to crane her neck to make eye contact with him, which is no doubt what he wanted. She draws in another controlled breath.

“Please, Orion,” she forces out. “We can’t do this without you.”

The smirk on his face turns positively villainous. “Perfect.”

“So you’re with us?”

“Of course I am.” His eyes gleam in the bright sunlight that falls in through the windows. “If the Icehearts are going after the Gold Clan, my court is in danger too. And the best way to protect it is by helping you succeed in your mission to get them first.”

She clenches her jaw before grinding out, “So you were always planning to help?”

“Naturally.” He cups her cheek and draws his thumb over her bottom lip. “I just wanted to hear you say please.”

Alarm flits across her face, and she slaps his hand away. Grabbing him by the collar, she yanks his face down to hers and growls, “You son of a… If you ever pull a stunt like that again, I will strangle you.”

Instead of trying to push her away or remove her hand from his collar, he does the opposite. He leans down even closer and slants his lips over hers. “You’re so cute when you threaten me, little viper.”

She jerks back, immediately releasing his collar and retreating a couple of steps. Orion lets out a smug chuckle. Then seriousness descends on his features again as he straightens and sweeps commanding eyes over the rest of us.

“But make no mistake,” he begins, his voice now hard and full of authority. “I am no longer bound by any bargain. I will help you only because it serves my own goals of protecting my court, and I can walk away at any time.”

For a few seconds, we all just look back at him.

Then Draven tilts his head in a half nod. “Understood.”

“Good. I’ll send for my spy in Frostfell. She might know what the Icehearts are up to.” He shifts his gaze to Galen and Lyra. “My people put your armor in your old rooms as well while Haldia was healing you. I trust you know the way.”

They incline their heads in thanks.

“Alright, we meet back in Orion’s throne room in ten minutes,” Draven says, his voice pulsing with command. “We’re already more than half a day behind. If Bane and Jessina have already left Frostfell, we’re screwed.”

Clothes rustle and feet thud as we all scramble out the door to grab armor and something quick to eat. Draven is right, it will be a race against time to catch up to the Icehearts before they can find the clan that might give us our one chance of winning this war.

My pulse thrums in my ears as I sprint down the corridor.

Please, Mabona, don’t let it be too late.

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