Chapter 63 TROUBLE!
AUREN
“Something is terribly wrong, your grace.”
I pause mid-step, one hand still on the doorframe. The corridor suddenly feels too narrow, the torches too dim. Draven’s face is drawn, the usual easy smirk nowhere in sight. Behind him, two more figures step out of the shadows—Imogen, arms crossed tight, and Amelyn, her emerald eyes shadowed with something I haven’t seen since the Hydra fight.
My gut tightens. “Talk.”
Draven glances once toward the closed bedroom door, then jerks his chin down the hall. “Reception room. Now. The others are already waiting.”
I don’t argue, or ask questions. I just follow.
The moment the heavy oak doors swing shut behind us, the air changes. The reception room is lit only by the massive hearth and a few low lanterns; the long table is scattered with maps and blood-stained scrolls. Amelyn is already pacing. Imogen stands rigid by the window, staring out at the lava glow like it might swallow him whole.
Draven doesn’t waste time. He slams a crumpled report onto the table.
“We’ve received word from the border villages near the Euron portal,” he says, voice low and clipped. “Five separate attacks in the last two nights. Strange monsters—twisted things that don’t belong to this realm. They don’t just kill. They change people. One bite, one scratch, and the victim starts… mutating. Scales sprouting where skin should be. Eyes turning black. Voices screaming in languages no one recognizes. The survivors say the creatures look like they crawled straight out of a nightmare—part shadow, part corrupted beast, dripping the same green-black mist as the hydra.”
Amelyn stops pacing. Her fists are clenched so hard her knuckles are white. “We sent scouts. Three of them didn’t come back. The ones who did described the same thing: the portal itself looks untouched. The ancient seal runes are still glowing. No cracks. No breaches. But something got out. Or… something is reaching through.”
Imogen finally turns from the window. His face is pale. “The Euron fracture has been stable for centuries. The only way anything could slip past without breaking the seal is if the corruption inside is evolving. Or if someone—or something—on this side is weakening the barrier from the outside.”
My dragon fire stirs under my ribs, weak but angry. I plant both hands on the table and lean in, scanning the reports. Sketches of the creatures stare back at me—elongated limbs, too many teeth, eyes that glow with the same sickly violet I saw in the Hydra’s runes.
“Tyren warned me the veil is thinning,” I mutter. “But this… this is new. Coordinated. Like they’re testing us.”
Draven nods. “The villagers are evacuating toward the capital. We’ve already doubled the patrols along the eastern ridges, but if these things keep spreading…” He cuts himself off, jaw tight. “We need to know how they’re getting through a sealed portal. And we need to know now.”
Amelyn’s gaze flicks to me, sharp. “You’re still recovering, Auren. You can’t just fly out there and play hero again.”
I bare my teeth in a humorless smile. “Watch me.”
Imogen steps forward before she can snap back. “There’s more. The fae ambassadors—Neraya and her brother—they’ve been asking questions about the Library of Lost Souls again. They’re convinced the answer to their withering flowers is tied to whatever’s happening at Euron. They keep mentioning Haven like she's the key”
The mention of Haven makes my chest ache in a way that has nothing to do with the Hydra wounds. I straighten, rubbing the back of my neck. “She’s already carrying enough. The fae, her sister, me… I won’t add this to her plate until we have answers. Besides those are two different cases.”
Draven exhales. “With respect, Your Grace… she’s your queen. And whatever’s leaking out of Euron feels like it’s aimed at her. The mutated victims keep muttering the same word in their delirium.”
He slides another scrap of parchment across the table. One word, scrawled in shaky ink:
Haven.
Silence drops like a blade.
I stare at the paper until the letters blur. My fire flares hotter, chasing away the lingering weakness. “Then we hit this hard and fast. Tonight. I want every capable fighter ready at first light. Imogen, you and Amelyn take the western flank. Draven, you’re with me at the portal itself. We find the leak, we plug it, and we burn whatever crawled out.”
Amelyn opens her mouth—probably to argue I’m still half-healed—but I cut her off with a look.
“I’m not asking.”
“No, but we can wait." Her voice is soft but firm. “You're still healing and we don't know how serious your curse has gotten. Besides, we need an accurate plan. Whatever is in there wants Haven and we have to act smartly."
“We don't have enough time Amy," I snap, my patience wearing really thin. “Whatever is out there is dangerous and delaying could kill us all."
“Same as rushing into chaos without a plan will," she responds. “This is not a journey to the Alchemy mountains and we can't have you fainting on the battlefield. You. Must. Be. Healed. Completely!"
I sigh because she's right.
I turn toward the door, already feeling the pull of the sky outside, the need to shift and fly and tear apart whatever dares threaten what’s mine.
Behind me, Imogen’s quiet voice stops me cold.
“Auren… there’s one more thing.”
I glance back.
He hesitates, eyes flicking to the others before returning to me. “Tyren was the one who brought the first report. He said the only way to truly seal whatever’s trying to break free… is from the inside. Someone has to go in. And stay.”
The words land like stones in my stomach.
I think of Haven’s guarded expression earlier. The way she’d forced that horrible syrup down me like her life depended on it. The sadness she tried to hide behind every glare.
My fists clench at my sides, already knowing what is happening or about to happen.
Tyren wants Haven to seal the gate of Euron from inside. That's a perfect plan because it permanently traps whatever is inside, but it comes at a cost.
The person who sacrificed their life never return.
“Over my dead body,” I growl.