Hidden Flame: Bound to the Triplet Dragon Kings

**Avery**

I ran and hugged Draven and Rory as soon as I saw them. They just giggled. We all sat and ate breakfast before we went

into a room in the palace that hasn’t been used in a long time. The dimly lit chamber buzzed with tension as Draven and

I leaned over a weathered map, our fingers tracing the jagged borders of Nightshade territory. The air was thick with the

scent of pine and sweat, a stark contrast to the cool, calculated demeanor of the group. Rory, her sharp eyes darting

between the map and the others, adjusted her hood, her voice low and urgent. “Remember, this is reconnaissance only. No engagements, no traces. We’re ghosts in their midst.” Her words hung heavy, a reminder of the peril we were about

to face.

Draven, his dark hair falling over his forehead, nodded grimly. “We’ll mask our scents and alter our appearances. They’ll

think we’re human traders passing through.” His hands moved with precision as he pulled vials of pungent oils from his

satchel, distributing them to the group. With my fiery red curls tied back in a loose braid, I sniffed the vial skeptically.

“Smells like a dead skunk mated with a pine tree. Should do the trick.” My lips quirked in a faint smile, but my eyes

remained hard, my mind already on the mission ahead.

The group worked in silence, smearing the oils over our skin and clothing, the acrid scent overpowering the natural musk

our forms. We donned human disguises with the aid of Draven’s magic,

caked with mud to mimic the look of weary travelers. Even our weapons were

and charmed to remain

approached the outskirts of Nightshade territory, the atmosphere shifted. The forest grew

the hilt of my dagger, my senses on high alert. Draven walked beside me, his movements deliberate, his gaze sweeping

pack’s compound came into view, a sprawling cluster of wooden structures surrounded by a

fear hung in the air, mingling with the acrid

but I kept my expression neutral, my

guise of traders, our

suspicion, but the human disguises held. Bethany, a tall, gaunt

eyes narrowing as she inspected our wares. “What brings you to Nightshade, strangers?” Her voice

charming smile, his voice smooth and practiced. “Just passing through, looking to trade.

the finest furs in the region.” Bethany’s lips curled, but she waved them deeper

where you’re seen. We don’t take

pounded in my chest. The mission

Draven’s as all of the torture

resolve hardened.

Draven’s unspoken protest, I drifted closer to the hut, my movements casual. Through

forms now broken and bruised, were chained to

hand, her face twisted in sadistic

I shoved Draven aside and stormed into

my voice echoing through the small space. Bethany whirled around, her eyes widening in

I lunged at her,