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

with the aid of Draven’s magic, also wore cloaks,

look of weary travelers. Even

and charmed to remain

Nightshade territory, the atmosphere shifted. The

my dagger, my senses on high alert. Draven walked beside me, his movements

view, a sprawling cluster of wooden structures surrounded by a

The stench of blood and fear hung in the

kept my expression neutral, my steps

the compound under the guise of traders, our cart laden with trinkets and

the human disguises held. Bethany, a tall, gaunt woman

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

smooth and practiced. “Just passing through, looking to

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

where you’re seen. We don’t take kindly to

my chest. The mission

we passed a small, windowless hut, a muffled cry pierced the air. I froze, my eyes locking with Draven’s as all of the torture I had gone through floods my mind. He shook his head slightly, a silent warning,

resolve hardened.

the hut, my movements casual. Through

werewolves, their once-proud forms now broken and bruised, were

her face twisted in

Without thinking, I shoved Draven aside and stormed

through the small space. Bethany whirled around,

I lunged at her, fists