The forest was too quiet.
I lingered behind while Revik guided Lyra toward camp, my cloak draped around her shoulders. Her violet eyes flickered back once, but she didn't fight me. Good. She needed distance. And I needed to figure out what Muir wanted.
I exhaled and let my dragon senses slip loose—ears sharpening, lengthening until the night unfolded into layered sound. The hush wasn't empty after all. Beneath the rustle of leaves and drip of spring water, I heard it: a stilted, metallic tapping. No rhythm of crickets, no living cadence. Too exact.
Unnatural.
My jaw tightened. Muir.
I followed, boots crunching ash and damp leaves. The deeper I walked, the heavier the air grew, steeped in sulfur and iron. Branches scraped against my shoulders, but the false chirring pulled me on until it cut off like a snuffed flame.
And there he was.
Leaning against a blackened trunk, pale hair catching moonlight, lip ring glinting. His grin was lazy, but his eyes never missed a thing.
"I knew you couldn't resist me," he said.
I stopped short. "Why the hell are you here?"
"Straight to it." He pushed off the tree with practiced ease. "That's what I like about you."
I scoffed. "Can't say there's anything I like about you. What do you want? The Water Nation doesn't send princes on midnight walks without a reason."
"Mm." He tilted his head, pretending to think. "Maybe I just missed your charming company."
"Muir." My fists curled. "Don't push my patience."
His smirk vanished. "Something's moving, Raiden. Not armies, not kings. Older."
I didn't move. "You expect me to believe—"
"Villages gone," he cut in. "Not conquered. Not burned. Just… gone. Houses without bodies. Streams without water. Trees sucked dry. There's talk in the other kingdoms of the same thing."
I narrowed my eyes. "You've lied since you could speak. Why should I believe a word?"
He leaned forward, gaze steady, voice low. "Because even I'm afraid of what I saw."
The weight in his tone sank into my chest like a stone. It was the first honest thing I'd heard from him in years. I hated that it stuck.
He saw it, of course. His grin slipped back on like a blade into its sheath. "You're listening under all that anger. You always do."
"Careful," I growled.
"Call it what you want." He spread his hands. "Darkness is moving. And now the Primal Dragon has awakened. Sounds like the beginning of the end if you ask me."
Lyra's face flashed in my mind—her body dragged under, panic in her eyes. My fists clenched tighter.
"What do you want, Muir?"
"For now?" He shrugged. "Nothing. Later? Maybe your help. Maybe hers." His eyes glittered. "And trust me, I don't like asking for it, but Raiden, it's not just my nation at stake."
I ground my teeth. I didn't believe him. Not fully. But his tone wouldn't leave me.
Muir's grin sharpened. "You think I don't know where you're headed? The Ashen Caves. The Fire Relic. You'll need more than your little sparks and a baby shifter to walk out of there alive."
I didn't answer. My silence only made his smile widen.
"You can hate me all you want, Raiden," he went on, voice low and cutting, "but even you aren't stupid enough to turn away help when you're in this deep."
Every instinct screamed to reject him. To end this here. But the truth sat like stone in my gut. He wasn't wrong. Annoying as he was, reckless and dangerous as it would be, Muir could be useful.
And that was the worst part.
⸻
When we returned to camp, the firelight caught on steel. Revik stood with sword drawn, his whole body braced. Lyra sat close, still wrapped in my cloak. The second her gaze landed on Muir, she surged to her feet, fury written in every line of her.
"What the hell is he doing here?"
"Lyra—" I started.
But she was already moving, storming across the clearing, her fists balled. I caught her wrist before she could throw herself at him.
"Let me go!" she snarled, twisting against my hold.
"Listen to me first." I kept my voice even, though her strength nearly pulled free.
"The hell I will!" she spat, jerking harder.
I caught her other arm, holding her shoulders steady. "Stop. Just listen—"
"You should be killing him, not bringing him here!" She shoved against me, cloak slipping from her shoulder. "Move!"
"Lyra." My hands bit into the fabric at her arms. "Look at me."
She tried to twist away, but I forced her gaze to mine.
And gods, I wasn't ready for it.
Her fury burned hot, but beneath it flickered something sharper. Betrayal. And under that, deeper still—hurt.
Her voice cracked as she screamed. "He tried to kill me!" The words tore through the camp, raw and jagged. Then, softer, breath trembling, almost breaking—"How could you forget that?"
The accusation slammed into me like a blade to the chest. I swallowed hard, but the mask I'd worn for years cracked wide open.
"I could never forget that," I roared, rawer than I meant. My throat burned, my chest tightened. "That image—your face under the water—I'll see it until the day I die."
The fire snapped between us, sparks hissing into the dark. She froze, violet eyes wide, the air between us charged with something neither of us could name.
It was too much. I forced myself to let go, to step back, to rebuild the walls brick by brick. My voice came out colder, steadier. "But we need as much help as we can get. Sometimes that means working with people we don't like."
Lyra's jaw locked, her fists trembling at her sides. She turned sharply, stalking to Revik's side without another word.
Revik's scowl softened as she reached him. "Well, we need all the help we can get." He rubbed her damp hair with a crooked grin. "And I hear a Primal's hair is good luck."
Lyra swatted his hand, cheeks coloring. "Stop it!"
He only laughed, dodging her slap. "There's the Lyra I know."
Her lips twitched despite herself. She shook her head, a reluctant smile slipping through the cracks.
From the firelight, Muir's voice cut smooth as oil. "Touching. Adorable, even. Looks like she is up for grabs."
The taunt snapped the last thread of control. My fist lit with sparks as I slammed it into his jaw.
Muir staggered back, spit blood onto the dirt, then grinned wide with teeth stained red. "Oh, this is going to be fun." He brushed ash from his tunic and turned away like nothing had happened.
I didn't follow. If I did, I wasn't sure I'd stop.
⸻
The ride to the Ashen Caves was silent but for the crunch of hooves on ash. The landscape grew black and lifeless, charred trees jutting like broken bones. The stench of sulfur clung to every breath.
By the time the cliffs rose before us, the sky was swallowed by shadow. The caves loomed like open jaws, teeth of stone dripping with heat. Red light flickered faintly from within, as if the mountain itself still smoldered.
We let the horses go, trusting they'd find their way back. None of us knew how long this would take—or if we'd come out alive at all.
Revik broke the silence, his voice low. "We can still turn back."
"No," I said flatly. "We can't."
Lyra spoke for the first time since last night, her voice brittle. "So what's the plan?"
"Honestly?" I exhaled. "There isn't one."
She crossed her arms, tone dry as ash. "Wonderful. My favorite kind of plan."
Muir chuckled, sauntering past her toward the gaping dark. "Don't worry, Primal. If things get hot, I'll keep you cool."
Lyra's eyes narrowed. "Fuck off."
My fists flexed, itching.
I stepped to the front, heat from the cave washing over my skin. Steam hissed from glowing cracks in the stone, the air alive like the mountain itself was breathing.
"Stay close," I ordered without looking back.
Revik muttered a curse. Lyra's sharp exhale carried more steel than fear.
Muir only smirked. "After you, Prince."
And together, we crossed the threshold into the mouth of the cave.