─────────────⋆˖☽ ​𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑾𝒂𝒓 𝑰𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒅 ☾˖⋆─────────────

My eyes locked on his, a silent battle of wills across the storm-lashed air. I straightened my spine, mirroring his unyielding stance, and refused to grant him the satisfaction of my fear.

“Like who?” I demanded, my voice taut.

“Turn around,” he commanded. The words were not a request.

“Why?” I shot back. “So you can put a knife in my back?”

A flicker of something—not quite humor—touched his lips. “If I wanted you dead, Alanah, you wouldn’t be breathing.” Before I could process the threat, his hands seized my shoulders. The force he used to spin me was startling, a jarring reminder of the power he held in check. “You aren’t listening,” he gritted out, his breath hot against my ear.

I bit the inside of my cheek, the sharp tang of blood silencing the scream in my throat.

“Stop fighting me,” he growled, his grip relentless. “And look.”

“I’ve seen it!” I snapped, my gaze sweeping over the chaos. “The fire, the ruin, the dragons—”

“No.” His sigh was a guttural sound of pure frustration. “Look past the dragons. Look at the ships.”

Grudgingly, I narrowed my eyes, forcing my attention to the sea. These weren’t mere transport vessels; they were floating arsenals. Dark siege engines were mounted on their decks, ugly and menacing against the churning grey water. As I watched, one of them launched a dark speck into the sky. It traced a lazy arc over the waves before slamming into the shoreline. There was no sound, only a distant, violent eruption of earth and shattered rock.

Down on the beach, figures in polished steel charged from the surf, their blades crashing against the desperate defense of the islanders. A volley of arrows feathered the air. I saw one strike a man in an unarmored shirt. He didn’t scream or cry out. He just… folded, vanishing into the fray. High above, the dragons were not the aggressors. They wheeled like massive, scaled birds of prey, breathing torrents of fire not on the island, but onto the decks of the invading ships.

“The Order of the Ashen Vow,” Emeric said, his voice raw with a hatred I knew all too well. “They hunt dragons, yes. But they make no distinction between a beast and a man who stands with one. Their only mission is extinction.”

“That’s…” I couldn’t find the word. The scene was an obscenity. “They’re horrible.”

Then, through a rift in the smoke, I saw it: a flash of brilliant red hair in the heart of the melee. Mikaeus. A cold dread washed over me, a stark contrast to the heat of my anger. The chaos on the beach was suddenly a reflection of the war inside my own head. My convictions, the beliefs that had defined my entire life, were shattering like glass. Dragons are the monsters. The burning ships and dead men were proof. But the people on this island, fighting and dying on the sand… they were victims. I didn’t know what to believe anymore.

“I see that fire in you, Alanah,” Emeric’s voice sliced through my confusion. He said my name like a curse. Then, his tone shifted, softening with something that sounded dangerously like pity. “And in it, I see my own. The difference is, my hate has a target. Yours is a wildfire, burning everything in its path.”

I whipped around to face him, my fury a shield. “I protect the innocent,” I snarled.

His expression was ice. “And are these people not innocent?” He gestured to the battle. “The ones who live beside and defend the very creatures you despise? Would you protect them?” He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a venomous whisper. “Or would you cut them down, too, if they stood in your way? You are no different from them.” He jabbed a finger at the invaders on the beach.

The accusation struck me like a physical blow. Heat flooded my cheeks, and my whole body trembled. “I would not!” I cried, my voice cracking. “They’re… they’re caught in the middle!”

“Innocent?” he countered, his voice a low threat. “Mikaeus is innocent. Zarina is innocent. And you tried to kill them both.”

“I’ve watched dragons burn towns to ash!” I shoved myself forward until our chests were nearly touching. “I’ve seen what they leave behind. And you dare to call them innocent?” The images flooded my mind—charred timbers, the vacant stares of the dead—and fueled my rage.

His green eyes bored into mine, stripping my anger bare. “Have you? Have you truly seen it happen? Or have you only seen the aftermath, sifted through the ashes and listened to the stories told by grieving men?”

I recoiled as if burned. “I was defending my home.”

A harsh, bitter laugh escaped him. He jabbed a finger into my sternum. “You are a weapon aimed at the wrong enemy.” I swatted his hand away with my bound wrists, a pathetic gesture that he didn’t even register. “I don’t understand why Mikaeus brought you here.”

He doesn’t know? The thought was a disorienting lurch in my gut. Mikaeus didn’t tell him?

“I cannot fathom what he sees in you,” Emeric continued, his voice dripping with contempt. “Why he insists you are worth protecting.”

“I’ve had enough!” The words tore from my throat. “I don’t understand any of this! No one tells me anything!” My control finally shattered. I thrust my bound hands toward him in a gesture of utter helplessness. A choked sob of pure, undiluted rage escaped me, and I shoved him with all my strength. “I hate it here! And I hate you!”

The raw venom in my voice made him stumble back, his face a mask of shock. But the surprise was instantly replaced by something else—sharp, sudden urgency. His hand shot out, clamping around my wrist like a steel manacle. His gaze was no longer on me. It was darting past my shoulder, scanning the sky beyond the window.

“What are you doing? Let go!” I screamed, pulling back, but his grip was a vise.

He threw the door open and hauled me into the corridor. “Stop this!” My anger was dissolving into a cold spike of panic. My heart hammered against my ribs as I looked wildly down the deserted hallway. We were alone. Utterly alone.

“It’s useless. Stop fighting,” he said, his voice a low rasp as he dragged me deeper into the fortress. His gaze flicked over his shoulder, checking the empty hall before snapping forward again. “Besides, I made a promise not to harm you.” He added under his breath, “A promise I don’t particularly agree with.”

A promise. The word meant nothing. People broke promises like twigs. My resistance drained away, replaced by a cold, weary resignation. He would use me, hurt me, discard me—the moment it suited him.

I went limp, my feet stumbling to keep pace. My mind raced, sifting through impossibilities, searching for an escape. But where could I go? A war raged outside, and I was a prisoner in a fortress I didn’t know, on an island I couldn’t leave.

He stopped abruptly before a heavy, iron-banded door, his broad frame blocking it completely. He turned, his green eyes grim and unreadable.

“You want answers,” he stated, not as a question, but as a fact. “Fine. But words are failing us. So let me show you something instead.” He paused, his gaze intense. “But know this: the choice to see is yours. And I may never be able to offer it again.”

He stepped aside, revealing the door. It was carved from a single slab of dark, ancient oak. An intricate relief covered its surface: two immense dragons coiled around each other in a dynamic, yet peaceful, embrace. Below them, tiny new sprouts pushed up from the wood, a promise of life. It was, against my will, breathtakingly beautiful. Even the polished golden handle was shaped into a sleeping dragon, its tail curled protectively around the latch.

Emeric placed his hand on the handle. The door swung inward without a sound, and from the room beyond, a wave of soft, warm light and the sweet, calming scent of incense spilled into the cold stone corridor.

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𝓓𝓸𝓷’𝓽 𝓯𝓸𝓻𝓰𝓮𝓽 𝓽𝓸 𝓪𝓭𝓭 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓫𝓸𝓸𝓴 𝓽𝓸 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓵𝓲𝓫𝓻𝓪𝓻𝔂 𝓼𝓸 𝔂𝓸𝓾’𝓵𝓵 𝓫𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓯𝓲𝓻𝓼𝓽 𝓽𝓸 𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀 𝔀𝓱𝓮𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓷𝓮𝔁𝓽 𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓭𝓻𝓸𝓹𝓼. 𝓐𝓼 𝓪𝓵𝔀𝓪𝔂𝓼, 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓴 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓲𝓷𝓬𝓻𝓮𝓭𝓲𝓫𝓵𝓮 𝓼𝓾𝓹𝓹𝓸𝓻𝓽!