The room was dark, with only low light coming from the fire in the hearth. The warmth didn’t reach far, but it didn’t need to—not with Rhett in the bed. Thanks to Silas’s fire, his body heat did more than the flames ever could, and he used it now to keep Amara warm.

  He laid on his side, head propped up by a hand, watching her. He had been awake for a while, too anxious to sleep and too restless to try again. Amara was beside him, her back turned, with only a few inches of space between them. His hand was resting on her hip, but just barely. He needed that, needed to touch her, even if it was something small.

  It was the first time they had shared a bed since the New Dawn. And while Amara hadn’t annulled their marriage, she did set a boundary on allowing him to cuddle her. Not while she was awake. Lying next to him was all she could give him, and Rhett didn’t push for more. He knew it would take time—time for her to forgive him, time for both of them to begin to heal from the loss of their sons.

  He shifted a little, careful not to wake her as he looked down at her face. In her sleep, Amara looked more like the woman he remembered—before the crown, before the war, before everything had been torn apart.

  A soft knock went through the quiet room, pulling Rhett from his thoughts. He let out a sigh, closed his eyes for a second, then eased himself slowly out of bed so that she wouldn’t wake. After walking around to her side of the bed, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead. Then he turned away and went to the door.

  Kieran stood on the other side, holding a lantern. He didn’t say anything, and he didn’t have to. Rhett nodded and stepped into the corridor. Molly Rose stood behind the Earl, wrapped in her robe and nightgown. It had been decided earlier in the night that she’d take his place in the bed so Amara wouldn’t wake up alone.

  “Thank you,” Rhett said quietly as he held open the door.

  Molly Rose didn’t answer at first. She had barely spoken to him since his arrival, but Rhett understood why. She was angry about how he had treated Amara and how he had sent her away without so much as a goodbye.

  Still, just before stepping inside, she stopped.

  “You’ll keep Tristan safe?” She questioned in a low voice.

  “I will,” Rhett nodded as he met her gaze. “From our enemies—and from his own stupidity.”

  That slightly shifted her expression, but Molly Rose didn’t smile. Just nodded once.

  “Good,” she said before stepping into the room and shutting the door behind her.

  Rhett stood in the corridor for a moment, listening to the sound of footsteps fading in his bedchamber. After a heavy sigh, he turned and followed Kieran through the castle. Everything was still and quiet at this hour, with only a few soldiers standing guard.

  When they stepped outside, the cold instantly hit them. The skies above were a deep, moonless black—not even a hint of dawn lingered on the horizon. Rows of torches lit the courtyard, illuminating the single horse, saddled and waiting on the cobblestone path.

  Kieran stopped first, turning to face Rhett. In the shadows of the flames, the Earl looked tired. However, he had a small smile on his face as he placed both hands on Rhett’s shoulders.

  “I know it was a royal decree that brought you and Tristan together,” Kieran began softly. “But that’s not what kept you in our lives. You were never just Tristan’s friend—not to Stella, and certainly not to me. You’ve always been a second son to us.”

  Kieran’s voice faltered for a moment, but he forced himself to continue.

  “I know I wasn’t around much as I should’ve been when you boys were younger. There were things I should’ve done, things I regret. But I saw the boy you were… and I see the man you’ve become. You have Yasmin’s heart and Julian’s strength. And I know—Gods, I know—they would be proud of you, just like I am.”

  “Thank you,” Rhett said quietly as a lump formed in his throat.

  Kieran nodded, steadying himself before his expression turned serious.

  “Be careful. Normally, kings don’t fight their own wars, but I know better than to tell you to stay behind.”

  “It’s not in my nature to let others bleed for what I’m not willing to face myself,” Rhett replied with a small smile.

  Kieran sighed, knowing this already. He moved his hands up from Rhett’s shoulders to his face, gently cupping it.

  “Watch over Tristan,” he said, firmer now. “He won’t say it out loud, but he looks up to you. He trusts you. And I know he loves you like a brother.”

  “Then the feeling’s mutual,” Rhett murmured.

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  Without another word, Kieran pulled him into a tight embrace. When they finally broke apart, Rhett stepped back and climbed onto the horse’s saddle, giving the Earl a final nod. Without another word, he turned the reins, steering the horse toward the city gates.

  The ride through Onlon was quiet. The streets were mostly empty, and the city was still asleep. A few scattered lanterns on posts offered minimal light in the darkness, which only slowed Rhett’s pace.

  By the time he reached the city gates, the first light of dawn crept in from the east. Twenty soldiers waited in formation around two cages—one with Willie, the other with Myles. The men were hunched over, shivering in tattered clothes that offered no protection from the chill. Myles’ face was covered in bruises, with one eye swollen shut. At the sight of Rhett approaching, he whimpered and shrank back into the corner of the cage, as if trying to disappear.

  Willie, on the other hand, sat upright. He glared toward the king, refusing to look away.

  Rhett dismounted from his horse, handing the reins to the nearest soldier without a word. The guards stepped aside as he approached the cages before quickly retreating behind the city gate.

  Now it was just Rhett… alone with the men who hurt Amara.

  He stopped in front of the cages, looking at Myles first with a disgusted expression. Then he turned to Willie and leaned against the iron bars.

  “Well,” Rhett said quietly. “Are you two ready to die this morning?”

  Willie looked up with a smirk plastered across his face.

  “How was the funeral?” he questioned without blinking. “For the babies, I mean.”

  Rhett’s expression soured instantly as rage flashed behind his eyes. But he didn’t answer. He refused to give Willie the satisfaction. Instead, he straightened and took a single step back… and let his dragon take over.

  Without even bothering to remove his clothes, Rhett began to shift. Bones stretched, scales broke through the skin, and the air around him rippled with heat. After only a few seconds, a large dragon stood in front of the cages. Silas lowered his head, staring at Willie with burnt orange eyes, as if daring him to say another word.

  When it was clear that the man wouldn’t say anything, Silas lifted his front paws off the ground, slamming them on top of the cages. The metal crunched under his weight, but he didn’t completely crush them. Myles wailed like a child, while Willie’s face went pale.

  With a few flaps of his wings, Silas rose into the sky, carrying the cages with his front claws. Below them, the city of Onlon shrank into nothingness as they flew higher and higher into the cold air.

  It wasn’t long before Willie started to scream, cursing into the wind. Myles sobbed hysterically as he gripped onto the metal bars.

  They flew south—over the rolling hills and past the eastern tip of the Nocktal Mountains—until the land beneath them turned dry. Gone were the trees and grass, replaced by nothing but sand and cracked dirt. It was lifeless out here, with no village or river around.

  Silas slowed down as he scanned the desert below him. Then, without warning, he let go. The cages fell through the air, plummeting toward the ground. Willie screamed out of fear, but Myles didn’t do anything at first—just choked on the wind until his voice returned.

  The cages hit the sand with a loud bang. Willie and his cage were thrown sideways, rolling down a small dune. His shoulder dislocated with a loud pop, adding to his screams. Myles crashed harder, with the corner of his cage slamming against a rock, pinning his leg beneath the bars. The bone snapped, causing him to cry out in pain.

  Above them, Silas circled the sky once more before landing between the two cages. Dust and sand swirled in the air, choking both men. The dragon shifted back into Rhett, who stood there, breathing hard and his eyes burning with rage. He did nothing at first—just looked between the men. Looked at how they were now. Broken and in pain. This was only a fraction of what Amara had felt, and he intended to give them more.

  Willie lifted his head, finally noticing Rhett standing there.

  “Just get it over with, you bastard,” he spat, tasting the blood in his mouth.

  Rhett didn’t speak. He just moved toward the cage, yanking the door clean off its hinges. He reached in, grabbing Willie by the throat before throwing him onto the ground like trash. Willie tried to fight back, but it was useless. Rhett hit him with a punch, his knuckles hardened by dragon scales. The first hit broke Willie’s will to fight back. The second shattered bone. The third sent blood spraying across the sand.

  “You want it over with?” Rhett growled, tossing Willie across the ground. “After what you did to her?!”

  He kicked his foot into Willie’s ribs. Once. Twice. Until the man was coughing blood into the dirt. From the other cage, Myles whimpered.

  “I—I didn’t touch her, Rhett! I swear! I just—”

  “You watched!” The king snarled.

  He stormed over and ripped open Myles’ bent cage door. The man tried to get away, but he couldn’t move far with his broken leg. Rhett dragged him out by it anyway, ignoring the scream that followed.

  “You let it happen.”

  He sent a fist into Myles’ stomach, forcing the man to bend in half. Myles gagged and rolled on the ground, sobbing and clutching his abdomen.

  “P-please…” he gasped. “I… it was K-Kohen! He told us to do it!”

  “I don’t care whose idea it was,” Rhett hissed as he pulled Myles closer to Willie. “I will kill all of them—Arnav, Kendra, Cerys, Anwen, Kohen, Henrik, Reece. So, it doesn’t matter who decided to do what. Every last one of them will be dead…burned…gone…by the time this is done.”

  He finally turned his back on them as he began shifting into Silas. Within seconds, the dragon stood in the sand, with fire forming in his chest. He turned toward the men, who had attempted to crawl away while he changed forms.

  Silas opened his mouth, letting out a small blast of fire. It wasn’t meant to kill them—not yet.

  Flames danced across their bodies, setting the clothes ablaze and searing skin. Myles screamed as he tried to put out the fire with the hot sand. Meanwhile, Willie tried to roll away, but Silas’s fire followed him.

  Soon, their bodies began to blister, and their throats started to burn as they coughed up blood and ash. It wasn’t long before their screams of pain turned into hoarse, raspy cries.

  Rhett and Silas watched. They waited… wanting them to feel everything. They wanted the men to suffer until they were delirious with pain. After tormenting them for nearly an hour, the dragon finally opened his mouth one last time.

  The final burst of fire was a white-hot wall of inferno. It melted the cages, the men, the blood, the screams.

  Everything.

  When the flames finally died down, the wind blew through the sand, scattering ash across the desert. Nothing remained—not metal or bone.

  Silas stood over it all, panting as fire still burned in his chest.

  Neither Rhett nor Silas felt any better. But it was done… That’s all that mattered.