Chapter 88 This Is How It Starts
Damien
I know something is wrong the moment I see them. Bella, Ashlyn, and the girl in red are standing too close together. They’re angled inward, shoulders slightly turned, voices low enough that I can’t quite catch the words, and Ashlyn is smiling in that particular way she only does when she’s either about to cause a problem or has already caused one and is waiting to see how badly it explodes.
The dragon stirs. They are plotting, he observes with absolute certainty.
They are talking, I counter.
The dragon snorts. That is what plotting looks like when it wears friendly faces.
I sigh and finish securing the last canteen before turning toward them, rolling tension out of my shoulders as I walk. Bella notices me first, her gaze flicking up instinctively, expression shifting from focused to faintly guilty in the span of a heartbeat. Ashlyn notices a second later. Her grin widens.
I stop a few feet away, folding my arms. “Why do you all look like you’ve just made a decision that will inconvenience me greatly?”
Ashlyn beams. “Funny you should say that.”
The dragon’s amusement coils low in my chest. Bella opens her mouth, clearly intending to soften whatever is coming. Ashlyn steamrolls right over her.
“We found a new travel buddy,” she announces brightly. “Slash revenge-murder expert. She’s joining us.”
I close my eyes briefly. “Of course she is,” I mutter.
When I open them again, the girl in red is watching me closely, chin tipped up, eyes sharp and unflinching. She doesn’t look impressed. She doesn’t look intimidated either. She looks… appraising. Like she’s measuring the distance between my throat and her knife and deciding she probably won’t need to use it.
“And who,” I ask calmly, “are you?”
“Red,” she says. “That’s what they call me.”
The dragon leans forward, interest piqued. Blood-stained one. Justice-driven. Dangerous. He approves.
You approve of everyone dangerous, I reply.
He hums. Only the competent ones.
I glance back at Ashlyn. “You didn’t think to consult me before adding another variable to our already precarious journey?”
Ashlyn waves a hand. “You were busy being all kingly. Delegation is important.”
Bella winces. “I tried to explain—”
“I’m sure you did,” I say gently, because I trust Bella, even when I don’t trust the situation. My gaze returns to Red. “What exactly makes you think joining us is a good idea?”
Red’s mouth twitches. “You’re heading toward something that preys on the helpless and hides behind fear.”
“Yes.”
“And you’re willing to walk through cursed woods and hostile territory to stop her.”
“Yes.”
She shrugs. “Sounds like my kind of work.”
Straightforward. I can respect that.
Still. I exhale slowly. “We make camp early tonight. We move at first light. If you’re joining us, you follow my rules.”
Red nods immediately. “Fair.”
I pause. “Can you at least pitch a tent?”
Ashlyn snorts and Bella presses her lips together.
Red doesn’t miss a beat. “Can pitch a tent and dismember a body at the same time if required.”
I stare at her.
The dragon perks up. That could be useful.
No, I answer flatly. It absolutely could not.
He is unconvinced. My eyes narrow slightly as I assess her again — the scars, the posture, the ease with which she made that statement.
“I prefer my camps free of unnecessary dismemberment,” I say dryly.
She grins. “I’ll restrain myself.”
Ashlyn claps her hands once. “See? Team player.”
I rub at my temple. “This is not a team-building exercise.”
Bella steps closer then, her hand brushing my arm, grounding me in a way she doesn’t even seem to realise she’s doing. Her eyes meet mine, steady and earnest.
“She knows these woods,” she says quietly. “And she understands the kind of threat we’re facing.”
The dragon rumbles approval. She speaks truth.
I hold Bella’s gaze for a moment longer, then nod once.
“Fine,” I say. “One condition.”
Red lifts a brow. “Listening.”
“You answer to me while you travel with us,” I say. “No independent hunts. No disappearing into the woods without warning. And no violence unless I authorise it.”
Her grin fades, replaced by something sharper. “And if something comes for your people?”
“Then I’ll handle it,” I reply evenly.
She inclines her head. “Understood.”
The dragon shifts, pleased. Strong boundaries. A worthy hunt.
I turn back toward camp. “Ashlyn,” I say over my shoulder, “if this goes poorly, I’m blaming you.”
She laughs. “As always.”
As I walk away, I feel Bella fall into step beside me, her presence steady, warm, familiar. Behind us, Red moves with quiet confidence, already integrating herself into the rhythm of the camp as if she’s done this a thousand times before.
The dragon watches her through my eyes, alert and approving. She will kill for us if needed, he says.
Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that, I reply.
But deep down, where instinct lives I know better. I stop at the centre of the clearing and lift my voice.
“Pack up,” I call. “We move now.”
The order ripples through the camp immediately, soldiers rising without complaint, muscle memory taking over as things are put away. There’s a quiet efficiency to it that settles something restless in my chest. Bella steps in beside, her shoulder brushing mine, her fingers sliding into my hand with an ease that still surprises me. The contact grounds me instantly. I feel the tension bleed from my spine, the tight coil of vigilance loosening as though someone has reached inside my chest and eased the knot there.
The dragon exhales. Warm.
We start walking together, boots crunching softly over earth as the line forms behind us, and for a brief moment, the forest feels quieter. Less hostile. As if it’s recalibrating around us.
“Aww,” Ashlyn pipes up from somewhere behind my left shoulder. “It’s so cute. He purrs for her.”
I stiffen.
Stop purring, I inform the dragon sharply.
He ignores me. A low, unmistakable vibration hums through my chest, subtle but present, deep enough that Bella’s grip tightens slightly, her thumb brushing over my knuckles. I glare ahead. Red moves faster than I expect, elbowing Ashlyn firmly in the ribs without breaking stride. “You shouldn’t be so cocky,” she says flatly. “Dragons are territorial. Especially about their mates.”
Ashlyn wheezes. “Worth it.”
I don’t comment. I don’t need to.
The dragon approves. She understands hierarchy, he rumbles. And survival.
She understands when to tell people to shut up, I reply dryly.
He hums, amused. As we move deeper along the path, Bella presses closer to my side, our hands still linked, her presence steady and unafraid. I glance down at her, catching the faint curve of her smile, and something fierce and protective settles into place inside me. Perhaps adding Red to our number was reckless. Perhaps it was necessary. Either way, as Ashlyn groans behind us and Red keeps pace with quiet competence, I find myself approving of the decision.
At the very least, someone else will finally tell Ashlyn when to stop talking.