Chapter 6

The council chamber was colder than the rest of the palace.

Not in temperature, the air still hummed with heat from the volcanic mountain, but in the atmosphere. Stone walls rose in sharp angles, carved with ancient dragon sigils, and twelve nobles sat in a half-circle, their expressions tight with suspicion.

Elara stood beside Verath at the center of the room.

She could feel their eyes on her, measuring, calculating, fearful.

One of the nobles, Lord Kaedrin, leaned forward. “Your Majesty, this situation grows dangerous.”

Verath’s voice was calm. “Explain.”

“The healer,” Kaedrin said, glancing at Elara as if she were a weapon. “Your power has changed since her arrival. The court whispers. The army whispers. We must consider removing the variable.”

Elara stiffened.

Verath’s expression did not change, but the room's temperature rose.

“No,” he said.

A woman with silver rings tapped the table. “You cannot deny the truth. Your curse weakens near her. That makes you vulnerable.”

“It makes me stable,” Verath replied.

“It makes you predictable,” she countered.

Elara stepped forward. “You’re afraid.”

Several nobles bristled.

“Yes,” Kaedrin admitted. “Because if she controls the dragon king, she controls Ashenrealm.”

Silence fell.

Verath’s jaw tightened. “She controls nothing.”

“But she could,” the woman pressed. “And others will try to use her.”

Elara crossed her arms. “Then maybe you should worry about your enemies, not me.”

“You are the reason enemies gather,” Kaedrin snapped.

Before she could respond, Verath stood.

The movement alone silenced the room.

“Enough,” he said quietly.

The dragon stirred beneath his skin, golden light flickering in his eyes. “She remains under my protection. Any further discussion ends now.”

“But—” Kaedrin began.

Flames snapped across the table.

The nobles recoiled.

“I said,” Verath repeated, voice deadly calm, “the discussion ends.”

No one spoke again.

After a tense moment, he turned and walked out. Elara followed quickly, her pulse racing.

They entered a quiet corridor. The doors shut behind them, muting the tension.

“That went well,” she muttered.

“They won’t stop,” he replied.

“I know.”

He turned to face her. “They will try to separate us.”

Her chest tightened. “Will you let them?”

His answer was immediate. “No.”

The certainty in his voice warmed her more than the palace heat.

“But they’re not entirely wrong,” she said softly.

His brow furrowed. “About what?”

“You are becoming vulnerable.”

He stepped closer. “You don’t make me weak.”

“No?”

“You make me feel controlled.”

She studied him. “That’s not the same.”

“Control is strength.”

“Until it isn’t.”

He hesitated.

“You think I’ll be used against you,” she continued.

“I know you will,” he admitted.

“Then send me away.”

The words hurt to say.

His reaction was instant and fierce.

“No.”

The force of it echoed in the corridor.

“You didn’t even think about it,” she said quietly.

“I don’t need to.”

“Why?”

He stared at her, emotions flickering behind his controlled expression.

“Because,” he said slowly, “I would rather face war than lose you.”

Her breath caught.

The bond between them pulsed.

She stepped closer.

“That’s dangerous thinking for a king.”

“Yes,” he agreed.

“And for me.”

He lifted his hand, hesitating before touching her wrist. The moment their skin met, warmth spread between them. The now familiar calm settled over him.

“I don’t care,” he said.

She looked down at their joined hands. “You should.”

“I don’t.”

Silence stretched.

Then hurried footsteps approached. A young guard stopped before them, breathless.

“My king, another attack. This time in the eastern quarter.”

Verath cursed under his breath.

“Go,” Elara said. “I’ll stay here.”

“No.”

“You need to lead.”

“And you need protection.”

“I can handle myself.”

He leaned closer, voice low. “I don’t want to test that.”

She almost smiled.

“Then I’m coming with you.”

His eyes narrowed. “Absolutely not.”

“People are injured.”

“I have other healers.”

“They don’t have my magic.”

“That’s exactly why you’re not coming.”

She pulled her wrist from his grip. “You don’t get to decide everything.”

His gaze darkened. “In this, I do.”

She lifted her chin. “Try to stop me.”

For a moment, they stared at each other.

Then he exhaled slowly.

“You’re impossible.”

“You knew that.”

He gestured sharply. “Stay close. If anything happens—”

“I know,” she interrupted. “You burn everything.”

His lips twitched faintly.

They moved quickly through the corridors and out into the city again. Smoke rose in the distance. Citizens ran, shouting.

This attack was larger.

Elara’s stomach tightened.

They reached the eastern quarter. Flames licked at rooftops. Guards battled cloaked figures wielding dark magic. One blast struck near them, sending debris flying.

Verath reacted instantly, pulling Elara behind him.

Fire erupted from his hands, scattering the attackers.

“Elara, stay back,” he ordered.

She ignored him, rushing to a fallen soldier. Blood pooled beneath the man. She pressed her hands to the wound. Silver light flowed.

Pain stabbed her chest.

She gritted her teeth.

“You’re draining yourself again,” Verath called.

“I’m fine,” she lied.

Another blast of magic slammed into the street. One attacker slipped past the guards and lunged toward her with a curved blade.

Verath moved faster than thought.

He caught the attacker’s throat mid-strike. Flames engulfed his hand. The man screamed before collapsing.

Verath turned to Elara, eyes blazing.

“Stay. Behind. Me.”

She nodded this time.

The battle ended quickly after that. The attackers fled, leaving behind smoke and silence.

Elara swayed.

Verath caught her.

“You’re pale,” he said.

“I’m tired.”

He lifted her gently, ignoring the watching guards.

“You shouldn’t carry me,” she murmured.

“I will.”

The possessiveness in his tone made her heart race.

He brought her back to the palace, setting her down in her chamber. She tried to stand, but he kept a steadying hand on her waist.

“You push too far,” he said.

“So do you.”

“Yes,” he agreed.

They stood close again.

Too close.

“You scared me,” he admitted quietly.

She blinked. “You don’t get scared.”

“I do,” he said. “When it comes to you.”

The honesty disarmed her.

She lifted her hand to his chest. “I’m still here.”

He covered her hand with his.

“And I intend to keep you that way.”

The bond pulsed stronger.

Their faces drifted closer.

This time, neither of them pulled away immediately.

But before the moment could deepen, a loud crash echoed somewhere in the palace.

Both of them froze.

Another threat.

And both realized something at the same time

The closer they became, the more dangerous everything else grew.