บททั้งหมดของ Dawlya’s Dragon: บทที่ 91 - บทที่ 100

91 Cain arrived at the training grounds faster than anyone expected. His boots hit the stone with a force that made several trainees flinch. Avi’s team fresh off their final test straightened, unsure whether to salute or run. Chance cleared his throat. “Cain. Good. You’re here. We were just finishing a briefing.” “That much I gathered,” Cain growled, eyes sweeping the group until they found Avi. His posture eased half a breath then tightened again. “Someone wants to explain why every trainee in this building suddenly smells like they were assigned to my mate?” Verek coughed into his fist. Kael took a tiny step back. Joren muttered something that sounded like oh stars, here we go. Avi crossed her arms. “Cain, calm down.” “I am calm,” he lied, jaw ticking. Chance exhaled and stepped between them. “Avi’s team has been selected for a specialized deployment. Given the Dawlya situation, and the fact that faction members may attempt to break from the council to follow the Circle… the

93 Inside, the team was greeted with food, drinks, and constant reminders that every single guard in Squadron Five had eyes on Avi. Joren whispered: “So this is normal for you?” “Unfortunately,” Avi muttered. Mikan wandered through, took one look at the stunned recruits, and deadpanned, “Ah. Fresh mortals.” “Mikan,” Avi groaned. Trace appeared next, baby Connor in his arms, the infant shifting to tiny dragon form mid-yawn. Kael almost fell backwards off his chair. Once everyone settled, Brie leaned forward with a bright smile. “Now that you’re here, I want you to choose a team name. Something fitting. Something you’ll shout into battle.” Mira whispered, “Is that… allowed?” “By my authority as Queen,” Brie said. “Yes.” Avi blinked. “Brie, they’re not mine.” “Oh, they are,” Brie said. “The moment they chose to follow you.” The recruits exchanged looks. This… felt big. Bigger than just passing training. And slowly, they began to smile. The sun hung low over the villa, castin

95 Far beneath the iron-veiled mountains of Recessa, the Dawlya Council Chamber trembled. Not from earthquakes. Not from magic. From rage. Twelve high seats were arranged in a circle of obsidian stone, each carved with the sigils of long-dead Circle Mothers. Lanterns burned with sapphire fire magic flames that never flickered unless unsettled by power. Tonight, they guttered wildly. The High Mother rose first. Her hair streamed in waves of silver-white, her face lined with centuries of rule, of secrets, of blood. She slammed her staff against the floor, and the lanterns snapped into stillness. “Explain,” she hissed. “Explain how two daughters of Dawlya walked willingly into Draynor territory and pledged themselves to an outsider, an unclaimed girl with no training and no sanction!” A dozen council members flinched. One braver than the others, Veshira, Keeper of the Third Circle spoke first. “Our watchers reported a surge,” she said stiffly. “A merging of power unseen since Seppa

97 Avi arrived at the Wing Corp compound just after sunrise, escorted by Cain only as far as the perimeter wall anything more and Commander Verek would have a fit. Cain kissed her once, slow and lingering, the kind of kiss that made her knees weak, then reluctantly released her with a growled, “I’ll come back tonight.” She watched him teleport away before she stepped through the gates. The moment she crossed into the training courtyard, every head turned. Not because she made an entrance. But because she radiated. Avi didn’t fully realize it until she caught her reflection in one of the polished glass panels: her tattoo glowed faintly under her skin, softer than moonlight but unmistakably alive. Her eyes held a steadiness she’d never seen in herself before Circle-laced clarity braided with the deep-rooted calm of a satisfied dragon bond. The Veilkeepers froze mid-stretch. Joren straightened abruptly. “Uh… Avi? You’re… glowing.” Kael muttered, “I knew it. Cain took her off for ‘

99 The five newly arrived Dawlya women stood in the Ashbarrie receiving hall exhausted, injured, clothing torn, aura signatures flickering like candles in wind. Even without magic, anyone could see they had run for their lives. But Avi felt something else. A shiver sharp, instinctive, ancient moved through her spine. The Circle recoiled. One does not belong. Chance arrived first, expression hard to read, his eyes glowing a faint Dawlya amber as he scanned their magic. Morgan followed, carrying two artifacts: a resonance stone and a Dawlya-binding mirror older than any of them. “Stand in a line,” Chance instructed the women gently but firmly. “The Circle Keeper will not approach yet.” Avi remained behind Cain and Mikan, who flanked her protectively. Even Brie and Trace watched from the upper balcony tension thick as steel. Morgan stepped forward, voice low but kind. “You are safe in Ashbarrie. No Dawlya councilor may harm you here. But we must verify your intentions.” The women