Both Kaela and General Marek descended through the crag-path in silence, the smell of scorched earth giving way to damp stone and blood.
Kaela's fists were clenched tightly at her sides, whitening. The moment Marek had spoken that name, Cassian, the Drakeblood, it had lit something in her chest. Not wonder. Not fear.
Rage.
She had grown up hearing stories of the Drakebloods.
How they set towns ablaze with a breath. How they took on human form just to walk among their prey, charming kings, deceiving soldiers, sleeping with human women for sport.
They had been the monsters her father warned her about at bedtime.
And now one sat in chains, just below her feet.
"I think this is suicide, father," Kaela spoke out, her voice sharp.
Marek just chuckled beside her. "As suspicious as ever. If he could fight, he wouldn't be in a cage."
"But maybe he's just playing the long game."
The general shrugged. "Aye. That's why you're coming. You've got a good eye for truth. And a better blade if he tries anything funny."
Kaela simply sighed and nodded her head.
They reached a heavy iron door built into the side of the mountain ridge.
Two guards stood at either side, both looking more nervous than she had ever seen them. One clutched his spear with white knuckles. The other wouldn't meet her gaze.
"Open it," Marek barked.
The guards hesitated only a second before unbarring the door and pulling it open with a shriek of rusted hinges.
The chamber inside was dimly lit, just a single torch crackling in the corner. It smelled of smoke, stone, fire, and blood.
And there he was.
Cassian.
He sat on the ground, back against the far wall, hands bound in glowing runesteel cuffs. Heavy chains snaked around his torso, looping into the floor like roots. His shirt was torn, revealing a slash across his ribs still faintly smoking.
His boots were gone, and his ankles bled.
But none of it seemed to bother him.
His head tilted lazily as Kaela entered, and when their eyes met, his lips curled into a smirk.
He had slightly long brown hair, messy like it hadn't been combed in weeks, falling around sharp cheekbones. There was a faint scar over one brow, and his eyes…
Gods. His eyes.
Not gold. Not red.
But something in between. Burning amber, like dying coals under ash. As much as she did not want to admit, his eyes were beautiful.
Kaela's breath caught in her chest, and then her jaw locked.
This was it. The beast. The myth. The butcher of her people.
And he was smirking.
"Hello general, we meet again," Cassian drawled from the shadows, "I see that you've brought me a little pet."
Kaela's eyes snapped toward the voice, already burning with fury. Her fists clenched. "What did you just call me?"
He tilted his head slightly, eyes twitching in wicked delight. "Oh, she has teeth, and she uses them. I like that."
Before Marek could stop her, Kaela surged a step forward, her hand halfway to her blade. The heat in her veins roared.
The two guards flanking the wall immediately stepped forward, halberds drawn. One placed a hand on her shoulder, murmuring, "Don't do it, Captain. He wants you to."
Kaela shrugged him off but held her position.
Cassian's eyes scanned her now, lingering in a calculated, taunting way that made her want to punch him square in the mouth.
"You must be Kaela," he said, his voice rolling like distant thunder. "I imagined you taller. Quieter. Perhaps even more timid."
Kaela looked sharply at Marek, her eyes narrowing in surprise. He stared back at her, a flicker of confusion flashing across his battle-worn face.
How did he know her name?
"Are you wondering how I knew your name?" Cassian slurred, tilting his head, his eyes filled with more amusement and a hint of mockery. "Don't bother trying to find out."
Her jaw locked. "I sure wouldn't waste my time on that. But you imagined me dead, I'm sure."
He chuckled. "Well, of course. I still do."
Marek barked a laugh behind her. "Careful, prince. She might be small, but she's the one who dropped two of your winged cousins at Solari."
Cassian turned back to her, the flame in his eyes flickering brighter for a second.
Then, smoothly: "Well, that explains the smell. The blood of dragons. It's all over you. Very unladylike, don't you think?"
Rage twisted in Kaela's chest at his words. The audacity of this beast!
He watched her carefully now, expression shifting into one that was colder, calculating.
"That's cute," he said. "You are angry."
Kaela didn't bat an eyelid. "You're Drakeblood?"
"I thought that would be obvious, unless you're slower than I thought."
"You murdered thousands."
His expression didn't change. "And I was very good at it."
"Why would you do such a thing?!" she snapped.
He held her gaze this time, and something flared in the depths of those molten eyes, not amusement. Not malice.
Something older. Wounded. Hot.
Then, with a slow smirk, he responded.
"Because your kind kills what it doesn't understand. We just… returned the favor."
Kaela took another step forward before the guards once again blocked her path.
Marek made no move to stop them. He just watched, knowing she could handle herself. And besides she needed to see him.
The beast. The prince. The reason her people still feared the skies.
She looked at the runes glowing on his cuffs. Sacred chains. Dragon-binding magic carved in ancient language.
"Why surrender?" she asked, her voice quieter now, harder. "Your kind never yields."
Cassian raised one brow. "Who says I surrendered?"
Marek's eyes twitched at his statement and he moistened his lips with a flick of his tongue.
Kaela's eyes stayed fixed on Cassian. "Are you saying...you let us catch you?" she said slowly.
That smirk deepened.
And this time, it wasn't charming. It was predatory.
"You'll find out soon enough," he murmured.