Page 135 of Silver Claws, Crimson Tears
As I round the corner, I exhale slowly. One task down. Now I just need to prepare myself to reveal my darkest secret to a room full of people who might want me dead after they hear what I have to say.
45
Rhea
Ipace along the stone wall, tracing my fingers over old weapons hanging like slumbering metal beasts. Blades that haven’t tasted blood in decades. My reflection stares back from a tarnished shield, distorted and fractured.
Vaylen stands by the door, arms crossed, watching me like I might bolt. He’s right to worry. Every instinct screams at me to run before I reveal what I am. Before I see their faces shift from mates to executioners like Cragmere.
“Stop pacing,” he murmurs. “You’re making me dizzy.”
“I’ll pace if I want to,” I snap, chewing my lip raw. “This is a mistake.”
The door creaks open. Phoebe slips in first, clutching her leather notebook, eyes wide with curiosity. Nate follows, his massive frame making the room shrink. His hand rests protectively on Phoebe’s shoulder.
Cliffbecker arrives next, weathered face set in hard lines. He nods curtly to Vaylen, then fixes me with a stare thatcould chip stone.
“What’s this about, High Prime?” Cliffbecker doesn’t waste time. “Secret meetings aren’t exactly regulation.”
“We’re waiting for one more,” Vaylen says, his voice steady while mine would have cracked.
The tension thickens like smoke. I want to scream, to shatter it, but I bite my tongue until I taste copper.
Finally, Dakar saunters in. He takes one look at our solemn faces, the closing door, the weapons surrounding us, and throws his hands up dramatically.
“If you’re plannin’ a surprise party for the Commander, I’m out,” he announces. “I’m shite with decorations.”
Despite everything, a nervous laugh bubbles up my throat. “No decorations needed, Cloudwalker. Just your ears and an open mind,” Vaylen says. “And your word that what happens in this room stays in this room, and that goes for everyone else.”
His gaze moves from face to face, demanding silent oaths with those piercing blue eyes. I watch them all, reading their reactions like a map to my fate. Cliffbecker’s jaw tightens, his features hardening into something between suspicion and disbelief. The old Skydune has seen too much war to trust easily. Maybe we shouldn’t have invited him, but Vaylen insisted.
Phoebe’s eyes gleam with that familiar scholarly excitement. She already suspects what’s coming from our research together, but she really has no idea. Nate’s massive shoulders relax slightly, following Phoebe’s lead. Whatever she trusts, he trusts. If only it were all so simple.
Dakar leans against the wall, arms crossed, face unreadable except for a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth. The silence stretches like a bowstring pulled too tight. My throat tightens, and I swallow hard. I’m about to leap off a cliff with no guarantee anyone will catch me.
—I will always catch you, little one.
—Thank you, Zephyros.
“My lips are sealed tighter than a tomb,” Dakar declares, breaking the suffocating silence. He leans forward, dark eyes sparking with something like mischief. “Even if you tell me you’re plannin’ to steal the crown jewels tomorrow, mate, I’ll keep my mouth shut and ask what color sack you want me to bring.”
My eyes widen. I’d underestimated the depth of Dakar’s loyalty to Vaylen. It’s not just respect for rank, it’s something forged in blood and battle, something I can’t touch.
Cliffbecker looks positively scandalized, his expression contorting like he’s bitten into something rotten. “That’s treason to even jest about, Cloudwalker,” he admonished.
“Good thing I ain’t jestin’ then,” Dakar replies with a dangerous smile. “My loyalty’s to the man who’s saved my wyrm-lovin’ hide more times than the crown ever has.”
The challenge hangs in the air, daring anyone to disagree. Cliffbecker’s jaw works silently, his gray hair seeming to bristle with indignation, but he stays put.
Phoebe and Nate exchange worried glances. Her small hand finds his massive one, fingers intertwining in that easy, open way I envy. Must be nice to love without fear of execution.
“I didn’t bring you here to discuss treason,” Vaylen says firmly, cutting through the tension.
“No,” I snap, my nerves finally fraying. “Just to discuss me, the monster you should fear.” Best to jump right in before I do decide to bolt.
The words clog the space, toxic fumes I can’t take back.
“What monster?” Nate asks, his brow furrowed in confusion.
