Chapter 55 SPARK OF TREASON

Chapter 55 SPARK OF TREASON
SPARK OF TREASON

KAELIA'S POV 

I had always known this day would come. Drakoria had been too quiet for too long, its flames controlled by a king who no longer trusted his own fire. When Kael led me through the hidden pass that cut beneath the mountain, I felt the first true thrill I had tasted in centuries. The air grew colder the deeper we went, sharp with magic that did not belong to dragons. This was not Azrath’s realm anymore. This place breathed more secrets Drakoria would ever hold. 

Kael walked ahead of me with steady confidence, as if he had never vanished for centuries, as if he had never been mourned as dead. I studied his back, the familiar strength in his shoulders, and wondered how many lies he had carried while serving the king. When he finally stopped, the tunnel opened into a chamber carved from ice and shadow, lit by pale blue flames that did not burn.

Nikolas stood waiting for us. 

He was exactly as I imagined. Too beautiful to trust, and too calm to be harmless. His eyes shimmered like frozen lakes, as if he had been expecting us all along. I did not bow when I got closer to him. Dragons did not bow to fae, not even kings of their kind.

“You came sooner than I predicted,” Nikolas said, in a smooth and soft voice. 

Kael inclined his head slightly, respectful but not submissive. “The king is distracted. This is our moment.”

Nikolas’s gaze slid to me. I felt it like fingers tracing my scales, measuring...judging me. “And this must be the flame that wishes to replace him.”

“I do not wish,” I replied. “I will.”

That made him smile. "Fine, come with me then." We followed him to where he would perform the ritual on us. 

The ritual began without ceremony. Nikolas drew symbols into the stone floor using a blade made of pure frost. Each mark glowed as he worked, reacting to my presence, resisting me. I felt the magic push back as if it did not know how to touch a dragon without being burned.

“I’ve never done this for your kind,” Nikolas admitted, stepping back when the circle was complete. “Fae magic does not like fire. It may twist. It may scar, or it may elevate you beyond anything your king has ever known.”

I stepped into the circle without hesitation. “Do it.”

The power hit me like a storm. Cold and fire collided inside my body, ripping through my veins. I clenched my jaw, refusing to scream. My scales burned, then froze, then burned again. I felt my strength stretch and sharpen, my senses pulling wider until I could hear the mountain groan far above us, and feel Drakoria itself shifting uneasily, as if it sensed betrayal in its bones.

Kael entered the circle beside me, taking his own share of the magic. He staggered once, then steadied, his eyes flashing with something dangerous. Nikolas watched us closely, with an expression unreadable, until the glow faded and the symbols sank back into the stone.

“It’s done,” he said quietly. “Whatever happens next cannot be undone.”

Then Fae handed over to Kael another heart piercer. We decided it was time we took our leave. We got back to Drakoria, storming the entrance with Kael's faction. 

That was when the alarms began to scream.

The coup we planned did not rise slowly. It exploded.

Fire tore through the lower caverns as Kael’s faction moved, they stuck everything and everyone in their way precisely and mercilessly. Dragonkin turned on dragonkin, old loyalties snapped like brittle bone. Fae magic twisted through the flames, warping them into unnatural colors that ate through stone and scale alike. Everywhere instantly broke out with roars and screams, along with the sound of wings colliding in panic and fury.

I took to the air, my new power surging eagerly. Everything felt faster now. I cut through resistance with ease, my fire was hotter than before and my movements were cleaner. This was what I had been meant for. Not standing in Azrath’s shadow, not watching him grow soft over a wolf, but ruling.

Then he appeared amidst the chaos. 

Azrath was standing with blood streaking his scales where shards of the Heartpiercer had bitten deep. 

The Heartpiercer should have slowed or weakened him by now, Instead, it drove him into something feral. 

He was moving like a storm inside flesh, tearing through attackers, his eyes burned with a madness I had only seen once before, long ago.

Seraphine was being dragged through the smoke by Kael’s soldiers, they bound her wrist. Though her face was pale, she still tried to act defiant. Azrath saw what was happening and began moving towards her. 

Even surrounded by death, even powerless, she still drew his attention like a wound that refused to close. I felt a flash of irritation so sharp it almost hurt.

Their eyes met across the battlefield, and for a moment the world seemed to pause for them. Then Azrath roared so loudly that it shook the caverns. He surged forward, slaughtering anything in his path. I watched him carve a path of fire and blood toward her. 

My heart twisted with anger and cold understanding. This was not about a throne anymore. It was about possession.

“Move,” I snapped at the soldiers dragging Seraphine. “Now.”

They obeyed instantly, hauling her deeper into the tunnels as the fighting intensified behind us. The mountain itself began to crack with pieces of the ceiling collapsing. 

As Seraphine was pulled away, she twisted to see if Azrath was coming for her. I could see the conflict on her face, the fear and something else she did not want to name. Azrath reached for her just as another explosion tore the ground apart between them, forcing him back. He howled in fury, cutting down those in his way with brutal precision.

Our eyes met across the chaos.

For the first time, he did not look at me with indifference or irritation. He looked at me like an enemy. I turned away, my heart pounding with triumph. This was only the beginning