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Dawlya’s Dragon 117
117 Cain teleported straight into the training wing, already calling for Avi before the light faded. He expected her to be sitting with Verek or Chance. Maybe resting. Maybe annoyed he’d left. He did not expect what he walked into. The door to the practice room was half open. A low hum like the vibration of too many whispered voices speaking at once rolled through the corridor. The air felt thick, charged, twisting around his nerves. Cain froze. No. Not again. He pushed the door open. Avi stood in the middle of the room, her back to him, hair lifting as if caught in an unseen wind. The Circle tattoo on her neck and cheek glowed brightly, painfully bright and the pattern pulsed like a second heartbeat. Her hands trembled at her sides. Chance was there, watching her carefully, his posture steady but his jaw tight. Verek stood near the wall, tense, ready for anything. A thin swirl of violet-gold magic wound around Avi’s ankles like vines made of smoke. Cain’s heart dropped. “Avi?”
Dawlya’s Dragon 116
116 Cain barely had time to breathe after Avi’s exhausting session with the Circle when the commlink at his wrist flickered. Mikan: Logan, I need you. Immediately. Cain stiffened. That was not the tone Mikan used unless something was urgent or catastrophically stupid. Avi, sitting on the training bench with a towel around her shoulders, looked up. “Everything okay?” Cain wasn’t sure. “Mikan needs something.” He hesitated. “I don’t want to leave you alone.” Avi reached for his hand, her palm warm despite her exhaustion. “I’ll be with Commander Verek and Chance. And the Veilkeepers are two rooms away.” Her smile softened. “I’m not made of glass.” Cain kissed her forehead. “You’re everything but that.” The commlink buzzed again, more insistently this time. Mikan: Cain. Now. Cain groaned. “He’s impatient.” “When is he not?” Avi teased. He didn’t want to let go of her hand, but he finally forced himself to step back. “I’ll be fast.” “Be safe,” she murmured. He vanished in a fla
Dawlya’s Dragon 115
115 Dawn painted Ashbarrie in muted gold, but the training courtyard felt cold. Avi pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders as Chance paced the stone floor barefoot, his steps deliberate, his expression unreadable. Cain stood like a statue beside her, arms crossed, coiled and ready to fight anything including, possibly, Chance. Chance shot him another irritated look. “I said alone.” Cain didn’t even blink. “Not happening.” “You’re in the way.” Cain’s voice lowered to a dangerous calm. “Then move the training somewhere else.” Chance growled under his breath and turned away before Avi had to separate the two for the third time since sunrise. Her tattoo felt warm too warm like the Circle was already awake and listening. “Let’s begin,” Chance said, stopping in the courtyard’s center. His tone softened only when he addressed her. “Avi, today is not about power. It’s about control. You are the Keeper. Not a vessel. Not a conduit. The Circle bends to you.” Avi drew in a breat
Dawlya’s Dragon 114
114 The war room in Ashbarrie was rarely quiet. Tonight, it felt like a tomb. Brie and Trace stood at the far end of the long obsidian table, half dressed in their nightclothes, half armored in authority, both looking like they had been yanked from sleep into crisis without transition. Morgan paced. Chance watched the windows. Cain kept a hand at Avi’s back as if she might collapse or be pulled away by invisible force. Avi didn’t speak. She didn’t trust her voice not to tremble. Her tattoo still throbbed with warm pulses she couldn’t command. It felt like a heartbeat that wasn’t hers. Morgan finally stopped pacing, his expression somewhere between awe and dread. “All right,” he exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “Let’s break this down before someone panics.” Brie raised a brow. “Morgan. We’re already panicking.” He ignored that. He pointed at Avi. “The Circle acted through you while you were asleep. That… normally shouldn’t be possible.” Avi’s stomach twisted. “It felt l
Dawlya’s Dragon 113
113 Avi was still pale when Cain walked her into the strategy chamber, one arm around her waist, the other braced on the wall because he was still weak, but refusing to let anyone else touch her. Brie rose from her seat immediately. “Avi? What happened?” Her voice was gentle but beneath it lay steel. Trace, Mikan, and Morgan were already gathered, the offering table between them littered with maps and threat projections. All of them turned as Avi entered, and the room shifted instantly from strategy to crisis. Cain guided Avi into the chair closest to him before anyone could protest. Morgan’s eyes narrowed. “Your magic is still flaring. You’re shaking. What did the Circle show you?” Avi took a breath. It quivered at the edges. “It wasn’t just a vision,” she began. “It was… a conversation. A warning. The Circle pulled me in without asking.” Trace went pale not with fear, but with the cold, calculating fury of a king who has already lost too much. “Tell us exactly what you saw.”
Dawlya’s Dragon 112
112 The door clicked shut behind Brie and Trace, muting the quiet tension in the hallway. Cain lay propped against pillows, pale from blood loss but stubbornly upright. Avi refused to leave his side, one hand tangled with his, the Circle simmering protectively beneath her skin. Brie crossed the room first. Her steps were soft, but her presence filled the space like a stormcloud. “You nearly died,” she said to Cain no scolding, no pity, just the raw truth. Cain smirked weakly. “Nearly doesn’t count, Your Majesty.” Trace shot him a look. “You can joke, so you’re not dying. Good.” But Avi wasn’t smiling. She was watching her parents really watching, waiting for the consequences she knew were coming. Brie sat on the edge of the bed and met Avi’s eyes. “You felt that attack before it struck,” she said softly. Avi swallowed. “The Circle did. I didn’t… understand it at first.” “And still,” Brie said gently, “you threw yourself in front of your mate.” Cain bristled. “She shouldn’t ha
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