***************************

The sound of heavy boots marching on stone echoed through the gargantuan tunnel behind me as I made my way to the mouth of the Aviary. Torches as big as my body lined the black, shiny stone walls, lighting the path before me. The entryway that led outside was large enough for a dragon to fit through, though I doubted that was why it had been designed so massively.

It had likely been designed this way so that an impressive number of soldiers could exit the Aviary quickly and all at once, should it ever need defending. Should there ever be a threat against its inhabitants.

Should there ever be an unannounced army stationed just outside its wards...

Every Fae, Wolf and dragon soldier we had was already stationed outside. Aella and the Sylphs has retreated into the skies, unwilling to contribute in case of any violence.

When Dristan had announced the arrival of the human king and his army, it had taken less than an hour for our men to pull on their armor, strap on their weapons, and take their positions outside.

They hadn't hesitated for an instant. They were ready. Waiting. Lethal.

And at my command.

Dristan walked quietly beside me, his fierce eyes trained on the light at the end of the long tunnel. He looked as intimidating as I'd ever seen him before. He wore thick, steel armor over his already impenetrable fighting leathers. He had countless weapons strapped to his body, and I was certain there were several more that I couldn't see.

The two, twisted black horns atop his head glinted in the torch light as we passed each one. His massive wings were tucked tightly against his back, the talons at their tips as sharp as daggers.

The line of his jaw worked as he flexed it, over and over again. His narrowed sapphire eyes were two pools of frozen water, arctic enough to chill anyone who looked into them to the bone.

Marrok, Torryn and Warrick walked behind us, all three as heavily armored as Dristan was. They also chose not to speak, and though they appeared confident, I knew they were itching with anxiety.

Occasionally, Dristan's hand would brush against mine, or he would briefly turn his head and gaze down at the side of my face. I didn't return his stares, too afraid that his eyes would crumble the mask of calm that I had sewn to my face. I could feel his fury, his distress, his anxiety, through the bond between us. I knew he could feel mine, too.

To anyone else, we looked relaxed. Unbothered. Perhaps bored, or irritated at the tiresome chore that was at our gates. We showed not one ounce of wariness as we made our way through the tunnel.

As long as the wards held, the king, his army, and... Ronan... were not an immediate threat to us. His name was difficult to think of without feeling the heat of fury rush through my veins.

Stay calm. Stay calm. Stay calm.

I chanted the mantra inside of my head, over and over again. Keeping my raging emotions controlled had never been more urgent than right now, this day, this moment. I couldn't show an inkling of anger, or fear. I had to be an enigma.

It was the best card I had to play because I did not know what Ronan had done, or how much he had told the king. I did not know the depth of the shit we were in. There wasn't much I did know. And the anxiety that that fact brought me could not show on my face. I needed to be unreadable.

I counted my steps as I walked, as the scorching breath of each torch that I passed warmed my cheeks. I matched my breathing to my footfalls, keeping my expression as blank as I could manage.

I was a stone.

I didn't think of the uncertainty of what was about to happen. I didn't think of Andi and Sylvie, who were currently ushering the women and children of the Aviary into the bowls of the hollowed out volcano. I didn't think of the thousands of soldiers outside who might lose their lives today.

I didn't think of the possibility of losing Warrick, Torryn, Marrok or... Or Dristan...

I didn't think of anything.

I simply counted.

Three hundred and sixty two steps later, we emerged into the daylight. Our soldiers awaited us, stationed two hundred yards away. They stood in perfectly synchronized lines, separated into several large, rectangular sections of men.

I paused, my eyes scanning the army before me. There was an eerie blanket of silence, interrupted only by the occasional whistle of a bird or the wind ticking the leaves in the treetops.

Dristan took a step forward, his gaze steady as he addressed our men. "My brothers, we have known for many years that the time for war was coming." He said.

He didn't shout, and for a moment I was worried that not everyone would hear him. That was, until I remembered they were all magical beings and they could hear a whisper from half a mile away.

"That time has come." He said, baring his teeth slightly. "This is what we've been training for. This is what what we have banned together for. This," He turned at the waist and lifted a hand, gesturing to the Aviary which towered above us. "Is what we will fight for... If a fight is what they want."

I watched him closely as he turned his eyes back to his men. His lips tilted up at the corners and his dark wings flared. "Will you fight for your people?"

The silent, stony formation of men came alive in that instant, some shouting words of excitement, others snarling with agreement and eagerness. The collective roar exploded from the crowd, frightening away hoards of birds from the trees above us. The sound sent chills up my spine, and I smiled as I realized the king and his army could probably hear it too.

Dristan turned his gaze on me expectantly. I gazed back at him, nervous and unsure of what to add to what he'd already said. The roar died down and silence settled once more.

I turned to the men, my hands folded in front of me. They watched me, as still and silent as death, their expressions smooth and fierce. The strength in their eyes sent a wave of determination over me, melting my anxiety away, replacing it with courage.

I lifted my chin, feeling like the four elemental runes might burn a hole in my satchel. "If it's a fight that they want..." I turned my gaze to Dristan. "Then we will rain down hellfire upon them."

The lines of soldiers began to collectively stomp their feet and beat their fists over their hearts in a steady rhythm as I gazed at Dristan.

Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom.

Dristan's cerulean eyes blazed at me as a slow, crooked smile graced his lips. He brushed the back of his knuckles down my cheek.

Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom.

He laced his fingers with mine. "Are you ready?"

I squeezed his hand. "I'm ready."

"I will come with you." Warrick said from behind us. "Torryn will stay here with the soldiers."

I turned and met Torryn's eyes. He met my gaze and nodded sternly, his hand resting on the hilt of the sword at his hip. "I will wait for your word."

I nodded and turned to Warrick. Serious, chocolate eyes met mine. "I want to do everything possible to prevent anyone from having to lift a sword." I said.

"But if something happens..." Dristan interjected.

"They can't get through the wards." Warrick said quietly. His eyes flicked to Dristan. "All we're doing for now is talking to them."

"But if something does happen..." Dristan growled softly.

"I will protect her with my life." Warrick promised. "I will protect both of you with my life."

"She comes first, Warrick."

A wave of fear crashed over me. "What? No-"

"Promise me, Rick." Dristan said, ignoring me. His eyes narrowed as Warrick stared back at him. "Promise me."

There was a long pause. Warrick's eyes flicked to me and I shook my head subtly. His eyes flashed with pain as they darted away from me and back to Dristan.

"She comes first." Warrick said with a reluctant nod. "I swear it."

My eyes burned, but I knew arguing would do me no good. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from protesting. I tasted blood, but felt no pain. There was too much adrenaline coursing through my body.

Warrick turned and began to walk down the path in between the lines of soldiers, toward the warded wall surrounding the Aviary. My heart hammered against my rib cage frantically. I took two steps, following him, but I stopped when Dristan spoke.

"Brenya..." He said gently from behind me.

I turned my head. He was closer to me than I thought he'd been. I craned my neck to look up at him. He looked relaxed, almost bored, like he did at council meetings sometimes. This was his Dragon Lord mask.

But I knew him better. I could see his perturbation in the way he frowned. I could see his dismay in the way his eyes tightened at the outer corners. I noticed the slight shake of his hand as he lifted it and cradled the back of my head, weaving his fingers into the hair at the nape of my neck.

He leaned down and pressed his forehead to mine, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes. "If something happens, I want you to get out of here. Let us fight them while you get somewhere safe."

I smiled and brushed my lips against his. "You know I'm not going to do that, you big, stupid lizard."

His lips twitched toward a smile as his eyes slowly opened. "I know." He mumbled. "It was worth a try."

His eyes were so deep, so impossibly blue. I stared into him, memorizing the color, memorizing the shape of his lips, his jaw, his nose... My chest seemed to fissure down the center in that moment and I felt ice water fill my veins.

"Dristan," I whispered, reaching up and capturing his face in my hands. His jaw was rough with stubble. "Dristan, I-"

His grip on my hair tightened slightly, and he pulled me flush against him. "I know." He said, his voice raw with quiet emotion. "I love you, too."

I closed my eyes as he ran his thumb over my lower lip and then kissed me. It was chaste, but deep and tender. A kiss that said everything I'd been thinking. A kiss that said more than either of us could.

"Come." He said, taking my hand.

I pushed back the emotion threatening to drown me. I shut my expression down as I faced the path before us. I began counting again as I breathed.

In, out. In, out. In, out.

And as we walked dutifully toward the unknown, I became stone once more.

****************************

I didn't notice that my nails were cutting into the palms of my hands until I smelled my own blood. With immense effort, I uncurled the tight fists at my sides. My jaw ached as I stared at the scene from the cover of the trees, unseen by the enemy I was watching.

Brenya and Warrick were silent beside me as they watched.

I was surprised to see that there were not very many men with the king. There were maybe one hundred or so of them. There were a few camp fires going. Most of the men stood at attention, facing the ward, while the others lounged around the fires. Some were eating charred meat, which smelled like rabbit. They must've been taking turns having breaks.

The king was standing with Ronan, to the far right, by the line of soldiers. They looked to be in deep discussion about something, and they were bent over a worn looking piece of parchment. I supressed the growl rising in the back of my throat as Ronan smiled at the king, pointing to a specific spot on the paper, which I could not see.

Brenya nudged me with her elbow softly. I turned to look at her. She motioned with her head toward the king, and stood stealthily. 'Let's go.' She said into my head.

'I'm not sure about this. They cannot pass the ward, but they can still fire arrows through it.' I answered, catching her hand.

She cocked her head and smiled. 'I know. That's why I'm going to keep a shield up around us.'

'You need to be careful and save your magic. You might need it for something more important.' I argued.

She rolled her eyes. 'My body is thrumming with magic, Dristan. I've been releasing it for almost two days, and it hasn't waned an inch.'

My eyes lowered to her hand, which I was still clasping tightly as I knelt in the trees. She was right. The transfer of magic that we had all used to bring her back from the brink of death had transfused her with energy, so much so that it had been causing her over-stimulation and discomfort. She wouldn't run out of magic. I was still uneasy. This went against all of my instincts as her mate. However... There wasn't much choice.

I nodded, my eyes still locked on our joined hands. I thought my teeth might crack under the pressure of my clenched jaw. She squeezed my hand and I lifted my eyes to look at her.

Two eyes, the shape of almonds, one mossy, one like liquid turquoise, stared down at me. She smiled gently, and the way her beautiful lips curved caused my heart to stutter.

'Trust me.' She whispered into my head.

And I did.

I trusted her with my life. With our people's lives. Perhaps not with her own life, but I trusted her enough. She had surprised me at every turn, amazed me at every given opportunity, and I always, always, always underestimated her. I couldn't keep doing that.

So, I stood, my eyes never leaving hers. She didn't look away from my face as I rose to my full height and stepped closer to her. 'I trust you.'

"Are you two doing that mate telepathy thing?" Warrick whispered. "It really creeps me out when you do that."

Brenya cracked a smile and shot him a pointed look. "I didn't realize dragons were so easily creeped out."

Warrick grinned and flipped his middle finger at her. Then, his eyes flicked over us, toward the line of soldiers. Something dark crossed his features before he stood. "They know we're here."

I turned my head and saw that Ronan and the king had moved toward the front, center position of the soldiers. Ronan wore a small smile on his lips.

The king's eyes were scanning the trees. He squinted, trying to see better, but he couldn't see us. Ronan, however... He stood with his hands tucked behind his back. His eyes were trained on me, even though I was completely hidden within the dense forest.

He wore thick, golden armor. There was an exquisite looking bow strapped to his back, and a sizable sword at his hip. There were also strange looking orbs hanging from his belt, but I couldn't tell what they were.

The king wore similar armor, though he looked much less intimidating standing next to a Fae. He was a man of about five feet, six inches. He was in his early thirties, with hair so fair it was almost white. His eyes were the color of mud. I hadn't seen him since I had first joined his army, posing as a human, nearly six years ago. He still held that same, cruel sneer on his thin lips.

"Stay on guard." I said, squaring my shoulders. "Let's go meet the king."

********************

All eyes were on Brenya as she emerged from the trees. Warrick and I walked behind her on either side. She held her chin high, her hands gently folded in front of her, as she walked fearlessly toward the hostile group of men.

She was the perfect image of relaxed. She radiated with strength and power, despite her small stature and young age. It was in the way she carried herself. Her eyes were unflinching as she studied each man in turn. My chest swelled with pride as a few of the men stepped back, their wide eyes darting from her, to their king, and back again.

Ronan watched her, his eyes following her every move, and the smile on his face had me yearning to rip his eyes from their sockets. The king watched her, too. He appeared confident and unafraid, but I could smell his fear from here.

Brenya stopped about twenty feet away from the warded wall. I stopped by her left side, standing as close as possible without touching her.

For a long moment, all that could be heard was the wind in the trees, and the occasional click on metal armor as the soldiers shifted about nervously. I waited, wondering who would speak first. I was surprised when it was Brenya.

"I see you have a traitor in your midst." Brenya said, her voice even and smooth, yet hard as stone. She stared at the king. "I suppose it's only fair, seeing as Dristan so easily fooled you for five years straight."

The king's eyes bulged with anger as they slid to meet mine. I stared back at him from beneath my brows, my face blank despite my urge to smirk at him.

"Your men must be so proud," She continued, and the king's eyes settled on her again. "following such a wise, un-foolish king." Sarcasm dripped from her tongue, her tone sweet and soft, like honey.

Warrick let out a low chuckle beside her.

The king curled his hands into fists at his sides, his face growing red with anger. I thought his head might explode for a moment. But after a slight pause, he released his fists and let out a breathy laugh.

He stepped forward, holding his hands out in front of him, as if he were carrying an invisible platter. "Well, well." He drawled. "It seems the rumors are true. You are quite the silver tongued vixen, aren't you?"

She didn't respond. He lowered his head and smiled, resting his hand on the hilt of his sword. "Well... Maybe not silver. That might sting."

A low growl of warning crept up my throat. He lifted his head and eyed me, moving his hand away from his sword. My eyes slid to Ronan as he chuckled and took a few steps forward.

"Don't worry about him, your grace." Ronan said over his shoulder. "He won't be a problem much longer, I assure you."

I bared my teeth as he turned his attention to me. I was about to retort, but I held my tongue when something caught my attention. Something was off about him. His stance was different. The way he held a constant crooked grin on his face made him look strange, as if he were a different person.

His eyes... They were not their usual pale, powdery blue. I focused my sharp sight, zeroing in on his irises. They were the strangest shade of violet I'd ever seen, in that there were flecks of white among the purple. They glowed subtly, and I hissed.

This could only mean one thing.

I moved closer to Brenya, lowering my head so my mouth was at her ear. "That isn't Ronan. He's been possessed." She inhaled sharply.