The traitor made their move three days later.
Seraphina was in the hidden chamber, practicing the ancient language with Pyre's help, when the alarms began to ring. Through the bond, she felt Pyre's alarm—and something else, something that felt like warning.
Stay inside, the dragon commanded. Don't open the door for anyone.
What's happening?
I don't know. But there's fighting in the corridors above us.
Seraphina's heart pounded. She moved to the hidden entrance, pressing her ear against the stone, trying to hear what was happening beyond. Muffled sounds of combat filtered through—screams, the roar of dragons, the clash of steel against steel.
Then footsteps, approaching rapidly.
"Seraphina!" Kestrel's voice, urgent. "Open the door!"
How did he find—she started to think, but Pyre cut her off.
It's him. I recognize his presence. Open it.
She pressed her palm against the hidden panel, and the stone shimmered away to reveal Kestrel, his clothing torn and bloodied, his face grim.
"The traitor has revealed themselves," he said, pushing into the chamber. "The Citadel is under attack."
"Who is it? Who's the traitor?"
"Lord Ashford. One of the Queen's oldest advisors." Kestrel moved to the window—which wasn't really a window, but a narrow slit in the stone that allowed a glimpse of the valley below. "He's opened the outer gates. The Ash Covenant is inside."
Seraphina felt her blood run cold. "How many?"
"Hundreds. Maybe more." Kestrel turned to face her. "The Queen is organizing a defense, but the traitors had inside knowledge. They know the patrol routes, the weak points, everything."
"What do we do?"
"We fight." He drew the sword at his hip—a blade of black iron that seemed to drink the light. "But first, we get you somewhere safe."
"No." The word came out stronger than she expected. "I'm not hiding while people die protecting me."
"Seraphina—"
"I've been training for months. I can fight." She reached for the bond, feeling Pyre's readiness, her willingness. "And I have a dragon."
Kestrel studied her for a long moment, something shifting in his golden eyes. Then he nodded.
"Then we fight together."
They moved through the corridors at a run, Pyre's bulk somehow finding space to follow. The fighting was concentrated in the upper levels—when they emerged onto a terrace overlooking the main courtyard, Seraphina saw chaos.
Dragons wheeled through the air, their fire lighting up the night. Below, armored figures clashed in a confused melee, the black-and-silver of the Dragon Lords mixed with the nondescript clothing of the Ash Covenant invaders. And at the center of it all, standing on a raised platform, was a man Seraphina recognized.
Lord Ashford. The Queen's advisor. The traitor.
He was speaking, his voice amplified by some magic Seraphina didn't recognize. "The barrier is an abomination! For three hundred years, we have been prisoners in our own world, cut off from the true potential of humanity. Tonight, we change that. Tonight, we open the door and let the future in!"
"He's mad," Seraphina breathed.
"He's a fanatic," Kestrel corrected. "And he has to be stopped."
He raised his sword and charged into the fray, Pyre and Seraphina close behind.
The battle was chaos. Seraphina had trained for combat, but nothing had prepared her for the reality of it—the screams, the blood, the desperation of men and women fighting for their lives. She cut down an attacker who lunged at her from the shadows, felt Pyre's fire incinerate another, and somehow kept moving forward, always forward.
Through the bond, she could feel Pyre's exertion, her determination. The dragon was fighting her own battle in the air, swooping and diving, her fire clearing paths through the enemy ranks. But she was also connected to Seraphina, their movements synchronized in a way that would have been impossible for unbonded fighters.
They reached the platform just as Lord Ashford finished his speech. The traitor turned to face them, and Seraphina saw that his eyes were wrong—not gold like a Dragon Lord's, but black, utterly black, with no whites or pupils at all.
"Ah," he said, smiling. "The Dragonbound. I was hoping you would come."
"What have you done?" Seraphina demanded. "You've betrayed everything the Citadel stands for."
"I've done what needed to be done." Ashford spread his arms, and Seraphina saw that his sleeves had fallen back, revealing arms covered in the same twisted dragon symbol she had seen on the assassin's ring. "The Ash Covenant has worked for centuries to bring about this moment. The Conjunction is still months away, but tonight, we take the first step toward bringing down the barrier."
"What do you mean, the first step?"
"The Dragonbound's blood is the key to the barrier. With it, we can begin the unraveling—the process that will weaken the seal enough for the Voidwalkers to enter." His smile widened. "You can come willingly, or we can take what we need from your corpse. The choice is yours."
Seraphina felt a chill run through her. "You want to sacrifice me."
"I want to free the world." Ashford's voice was fervent. "The Voidwalkers are not monsters—they are agents of renewal. When the barrier falls, they will cleanse this world of its corruption, and from the ashes, something new will rise."
"You're insane."
"I'm visionary." He gestured, and figures emerged from the shadows around the platform—more members of the Ash Covenant, their weapons drawn. "But I'm also patient. We can do this the easy way or the hard way."
Kestrel stepped forward, his sword raised. "There's a third option. We kill you and end this."
Ashford laughed. "You can try."
The battle that followed was brutal. Kestrel engaged Ashford directly, their blades meeting in a shower of sparks, while Seraphina and Pyre fought the surrounding cultists. Through the bond, Seraphina could feel Pyre's strength flagging—the dragon had been fighting for hours, and even her ancient power had limits.
But they fought on, because stopping meant dying.
Just when it seemed like they might be overwhelmed, a roar split the night—and the Queen's black dragon descended from the sky, its fire clearing the platform in a single pass. The Queen leaped from its back, landing beside Kestrel with a grace that belied her age.
"Lord Ashford," she said, her voice cold. "You stand accused of treason, conspiracy, and attempted murder of the Dragonbound. Surrender now, and your death will be quick."
Ashford smiled, blood on his teeth. "You think this is over? This is just the beginning."
He raised his hand, and something flashed—a device hidden in his palm, covered in runes that pulsed with an ugly light. Before anyone could stop him, he pressed it against his own chest.
The explosion was not fire, but darkness—a wave of absolute black that spread outward from Ashford's body, consuming everything it touched. Seraphina felt Pyre wrap around her protectively, felt the heat of dragon fire meeting the darkness, and then—
Silence.
When she opened her eyes, Ashford was gone. In his place was a hole in reality, a wound in the fabric of the world that pulsed with the same wrongness she had felt in her visions of the Voidwalkers.
"He's opened a breach," the Queen said, her voice grim. "A small one, but it will grow if not sealed."
"How do we seal it?" Seraphina asked.
"Blood of the Dragonbound." The Queen met her eyes. "Your blood."
Seraphina didn't hesitate. She stepped forward, drew her knife, and pressed the blade against her palm. Blood welled up, glowing faintly with the light of the mark on her wrist, and she let it drip into the darkness.
The breach shuddered, contracted, and then—with a sound like a snapping string—it closed.
The battle was over. But the war had just begun.