Chapter 61 FIRE IS NOT ENOUGH

Chapter 61 FIRE IS NOT ENOUGH
FIRE IS NOT ENOUGH

KAELIA'S POV

If someone had told me a day would come when I would desperately need the help of a Fae, I would have plucked their eyes out.

But there was still room for reconsideration. I might have lost the battle but I was not going to lose the war. I needed to find how I could bind Nikolas to me.

I walked out before Kael even thought of moving from where he stood. I noticed that as we began to leave the place, the loud rumblings had started to subside and soon enough, it had disappeared.

Kael was following claims behind me.

His presence was starting to irritate me. I had to get rid of him as fast as I could. Time was running out. Seraphine would have found a way to get Azrath healed by now. He would have been recovering.

This was my time. It was time for me to finish Azrath off. I had suspected it from the onset but didn't want to dwell too much on it.

Since Kael returned, a lot about him had changed, I noticed it from the way he walked and his aura. He looked weaker than the fearless Kael Drakoria knew.

I clenched my teeth as the thought settled in my mind with a sharp finality as I stood at the edge of the cavern, watching the molten light crawl along the walls.

Kael had promised me results, but what he delivered instead were excuses.

He had failed to kill Azrath, and failure was the one thing I had never tolerated.

When I turned around, I saw that Kael had completely disappeared. He was nowhere behind me.

I creased my brows into a frown. "Kael!" I called out, my voice echoing out into the forest.

"Where have you gone to?" I muttered to myself and continued walking away.

I made my way deeper into the tunnels that led to Estella’s domain.

The witch’s chambers smelled of old smoke and iron, the kind of scent that clung to spells long after they were cast. Ezekiel lay on the stone slab where she kept him, his body healing slower than before, his breathing was shallow, and his eyes were dull with exhaustion.

Once, he had burned with ambition, now he was just wasting away.

I circled him slowly, studying the way his chest rose and fell, the faint tremor in his fingers. The ritual had bound him to me, yes, but it had also hollowed him out. Whatever power Nikolas had woven into him was feeding on him instead of strengthening him.

Pathetic.

“You’re fading,” I said, my voice cool. “And I didn’t bind you just to watch you rot.”

Ezekiel didn’t answer. His jaw clenched, and that was all. He had learned when silence was safer.

Estella watched me from the shadows, her eyes reflecting the low firelight. “Bindings like his are not meant to be gentle,” she said. “Power always takes payment.”

“I know,” I replied. “But this payment is inconvenient.”

I turned away from Ezekiel and began to pace, my claws clicking softly against the stone. My thoughts moved faster than my steps, fitting pieces together, discarding the useless ones. Kael had outlived his usefulness. He strutted through Drakoria believing himself clever, believing that aligning with me made him powerful.

He was wrong.

Azrath would kill him the moment he stood alone before him, and Azrath would enjoy it.

The idea bloomed fully formed in my mind, sharp and elegant. I smiled despite myself.

Kael trusted me. Or at least, he trusted the version of me I had shown him. All I needed to do was whisper the right words, stroke his wounded pride, convince him that this was his chance to reclaim honor. I could tell him Azrath was weak, distracted, and still bleeding from old wounds. I could tell him that striking alone would prove his strength, that this was how legends were made.

Kael’s arrogance would do the rest.

He would go to Azrath without backup, without protection, and Azrath would tear him apart.

One problem removed.

My steps slowed as my thoughts shifted to the larger problem that remained. Nikolas.

The fae lord was dangerous in a way even dragons underestimated. He didn’t need armies or fire to destroy a kingdom. He needed time, secrets, and a bargain that sounded harmless until it was too late. His magic was old and twisted, capable of pulling dead gods from whatever dark places they slept in.

That was the kind of magic that I needed.

Drakoria would not fall to brute force alone. Azrath was too old, too powerful, and too stubborn. If I wanted him dead and the throne beneath my claws, I needed something greater than dragonfire.

I needed divine ruin.

I stopped pacing and looked back at Estella. “Nikolas can summon dead gods,” I said. “Tell me what it would cost.”

Estella’s smile was thin and knowing. “More than you think,” she replied. “And more than he will admit.”

I laughed softly. “He always underestimates me.”

Nikolas believed dragons were creatures of instinct and flame, incapable of subtlety. He was wrong about me. I would give him what he wanted, whatever that turned out to be, because once I had his magic, I would no longer need him.

Or anyone.

My gaze drifted back to Ezekiel. “You’ll recover enough to be useful,” I said. “All you need is obedience.”

His eyes flickered, and for a moment, something like hatred surfaced before the bond dragged it back down. Good. Hatred kept him alive.

As for Kael, I would see him soon. I would tell him exactly what he wanted to hear, and then I would step aside and let fate do the rest.

I will see to it that Azrath killed him. Right after his death, I will compel Nikolas to arm me.

And as for Seraphine, wherever she was hiding, she would learn that peace never lasted long when I still drew breath.