Chapter 4 The City Has Teeth
I did not sleep.
I sat beside Lio long after Alaric Nightfall disappeared down the stairwell, listening to the quiet rhythm of my brother’s breathing and the distant hum of Valmere waking for the day. Every sound felt sharpened, every shadow edged with meaning.
The dragon remained awake inside me.
Not restless. Watchful.
It didn’t speak—not in words—but I felt its awareness expand outward, brushing against the city like a vast, invisible wing. Somewhere far above the Lower Rings, wards would be stirring. Crystals would be flaring. People who had spent centuries believing themselves untouchable would be frowning at their instruments.
They would come.
And they would not come gently.
By midmorning, the Lower Rings felt wrong.
Too quiet. Too contained. The usual chaos—vendors arguing, children darting through alleys, scavengers shouting warnings—had thinned to a brittle hush. Doors closed. Windows shuttered. People watched from the edges of the street with the kind of fear that had learned how to recognize danger before it arrived.
I wrapped my cloak tighter and stepped outside.
I needed supplies. Food. Medicine. Something to mask the magical residue clinging to our room like smoke. I had no idea how long Alaric’s silence would last, and I refused to depend on it.
Halfway down the street, I felt it.
A pressure against my senses, cold and invasive, like fingers brushing the back of my neck.
Search magic.
I ducked into a side alley, pulse spiking. The dragon stirred sharply, heat flaring in warning.
Easy, I thought, forcing my breathing steady. Not yet.
I had no desire to test my power against trained enforcers in the middle of the Lower Rings. Innocents would pay for that mistake.
I slipped through the alleys, moving instinctively now, my body guided by something older than fear. The dragon didn’t push—it suggested. Turn here. Wait. Move now.
I emerged near the abandoned aqueduct, heart hammering.
And froze.
Alaric stood at the far end of the stone archway, leaning casually against the wall as if he had all the time in the world.
My relief was immediate.
So was my anger.
“You’re very bad at leaving,” I said coolly.
His gaze lifted, locking onto mine with unsettling intensity. “You’re very bad at hiding.”
“I wasn’t hiding,” I snapped. “I was living.”
“Not anymore,” he replied.
I crossed my arms, keeping my distance. “You said you wouldn’t report me.”
“I haven’t.”
“Then why are the wards sniffing around my neighborhood?”
“Because you exist,” he said flatly. “And because the Council felt the dragon stir again this morning.”
My stomach tightened. “I didn’t do anything.”
“You stepped outside,” he said. “That was enough.”
I hated how easily he read the situation. Hated more that I trusted his assessment.
“Then say what you came to say and go,” I told him.
He straightened slowly, tension coiling beneath his calm. “You need to leave the city.”
I barked a short laugh. “Absolutely not.”
“Serina—”
“My family is here.”
“And they won’t survive what’s coming if you stay.”
I took a step toward him, anger blazing. “You don’t get to decide that.”
“No,” he said quietly. “But I can tell you what the Council will do. They’ll quarantine the Lower Rings under the guise of ‘containment.’ They’ll burn magic sickness out at the root.”
My blood ran cold.
“You mean purge,” I whispered.
“Yes.”
The word settled between us like ash.
“They’ll kill my brother,” I said, voice steady despite the roar in my ears.
Alaric’s jaw clenched. “That’s why I’m here.”
I stared at him, heart pounding. “You’re helping me?”
“For now.”
I scoffed. “You keep saying that like it’s comforting.”
“It’s honest.”
Silence stretched, heavy and charged.
“You can’t take me,” I said finally. “I won’t leave Lio.”
“I know.” His gaze softened fractionally. “That’s why you’re not coming alone.”
My breath caught. “What?”
“There’s a safe route beneath the city,” he continued. “Old tunnels. Warded against detection. You take your family out tonight. I’ll buy you time.”
“And what happens when they notice you lying?”
“They won’t,” he said coolly. “Not until it’s too late.”
I searched his face, looking for deception, for calculation. I found resolve instead—and something dangerous beneath it.
“You’re risking everything,” I said.
“Yes.”
“Why?” I demanded. “Why do this for me?”
His gaze dipped briefly, then returned to mine with startling intensity. “Because if the dragon chose you, then the world is wrong—not you.”
The words hit harder than any declaration.
I swallowed, heat curling beneath my skin. “You don’t know me.”
“No,” he agreed. “But I want to.”
The dragon purred.
I clenched my fists. “This is a terrible idea.”
He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Then stop me.”
I didn’t.
The space between us shrank until I could feel his warmth, the faint brush of magic restrained beneath his skin. The air felt thick, charged, as if one wrong breath might set us both alight.
“This doesn’t make us allies,” I said quietly.
“No,” he replied. “It makes us complicit.”
A shiver ran through me.
“Tonight,” he said. “After sundown. Be ready.”
“And if I say no?”
His gaze dropped to my mouth again—lingering just long enough to feel deliberate. “Then I’ll still do everything I can to keep you alive.”
I hated how much that affected me.
“You should go,” I said.
“Yes,” he murmured. “I should.”
But he didn’t move immediately.
Instead, his hand lifted—slow, careful—and brushed a stray curl away from my face. The touch was brief, controlled, but it sent a jolt of heat through me that had nothing to do with dragonfire.
“Be careful,” he said softly.
I met his eyes, pulse racing. “So should you.”
His mouth curved slightly. “I always am.”
Then he stepped back, turning away before I could say something reckless.
I watched him disappear into the city’s shadows, heart pounding.
I didn’t know when exactly Alaric Nightfall had stopped being my hunter.
But I knew this—
Whatever we were becoming, it was far more dangerous than enemies.
And as the dragon stretched within me, anticipation humming like fire under my skin, I realized the city wasn’t the only thing with teeth.
So did desire.