Chapter 4 Stumbling Upon A Melody

Kealith

We’d flown south, starting at our border with the eagles. Below us, the ruins of ancient cities lay scattered—most reclaimed by earth, vines threading through cracked stone and fallen towers. By dusk, we found a structure still standing well enough to make camp for the night.

The men—my friends—talked around the fire about the possibility of taking mates in the coming years, assuming everything worked out with the females.

My thoughts stayed elsewhere.

On the disappearance of the Madrigals.

“Earth to Kea.”

Jakob tossed a stick, and it struck my leg. I glanced up and sighed before flicking it back at him.

“Sorry,” I said. “My mind wanders.”

“Clearly,” he muttered. “Did you hear what I was saying about the humans?”

“We get first pick, right?” Alec added with a grin.

I shook my head. “That’s not how this works. You don’t just choose one and hope for the best. You have to see if there’s a connection.”

I thought of what I’d prepared back home—an entire wing of my house set aside for them. Doctors briefed on human illnesses. Extra goods brought in. Events planned to introduce them gently to dragon society.

I’d done everything I could.

The conversation drifted on, speculation and crude jokes mixing together, but my attention slipped again.

Was it possible the fae had returned—only to steal their kin?

Once, many fae had found mates among the shifters. Dragons especially. We were mythics, just as they were. But rumor claimed the pure fae had retreated to their realm after the war that scorched the world.

Still, it could be something simpler. Another shifter faction, perhaps. Humans lacked the skills we possessed—what seemed magical often wasn’t.

It was a loss, the Madrigals disappearing. I’d heard stories of their beauty and strength, that their music could bring even the hardest hearts to tears.

To possess such a person—

I cut the thought off.

I’d need to reach out to the other shifters. See what they knew.

Sleep didn’t come easily, and we were airborne again before dawn. We flew low, scanning for signs of humans where they didn’t belong—or worse, other shifters. This was the edge of No Man’s Land and dragon territory.

My brother tolerated outsiders at best.

He would not hesitate to destroy them if they crossed our borders.

“Another few miles, then we turn back,” I called as we flew. “I intend to see my bed tonight.”

The air grew crisper as we moved north. I found myself longing for the warmth of Ashcliff.

We were nearing the river we’d follow west when I heard it.

Music.

“Do you hear that?” Jakob asked, his voice tight with focus.

“Yes.” I angled downward. “Jakob, Asher—land with me. Alec, Vael, Krynn—fly low and wide. Tell me what you see.”

We dropped toward a clearing near the river, landing quickly and quietly. I didn’t bother with anything but pants before shifting back and pushing into the trees, tracking the sound.

“I think it’s coming from the ruins,” Jakob said, close behind me.

We crossed broken asphalt and weed-choked stone. The music grew clearer—and stranger. It wasn’t echoing above ground.

“It’s coming from below,” Asher said, pointing to a dark opening in the earth.

“Land nearby, stay alert,” I ordered Alec.

The opening wasn’t just a hole. It had once been stairs. A structure humans used to have.

A subway.

The stairwell was narrow, the air stale with rust and damp stone. My footsteps echoed softly as we descended, each step pulling the sound closer—clearer.

The music wasn’t loud. It didn’t need to be. It threaded through the tunnels, slipping into the spaces between thought and instinct. The deeper we went, the more it settled under my skin, a quiet insistence that tightened my chest and slowed my breath.

The sound was unmistakable now.

I slowed, signaling the others back. Whoever was down here didn’t know they were being followed—but they would soon.

The sound was unmistakable now.

This wasn’t the kind of music meant for crowds or courts.

It felt… private. Like something never meant to be overheard.

This wasn’t performance. It wasn’t a call.

It was survival.

And there was no chance I was leaving without seeing who was down there.