Lyra walked in, her lace top askew, her cloak fluttering, Jake trailing behind her, his gray tunic rumpled from his haste. Tazka's gaze snapped to them, her tail uncoiling with a sharp flick as she barked, "Lyra! Why in Valthera's name is he here?"
Lyra stiffened, her glowing eyes dropping as she clasped her hands, her voice low but firm. "I wanted to join the discussion, my queen—Ssyra's my friend, and I couldn't just sit with him while this happens. I thought—"
"You thought?" Tazka cut in, her voice a whip-crack, her silver gown rustling as she leaned forward, her gold chains glinting. "Jake doesn't need to hear this—he's not part of our war councils! You'll be told our decision, and you'll get your orders. Until then, take him back to his room—keep him there until he's needed to breed again today. You're overseeing that, not meddling here."
Lyra's shoulders slumped, her glowing eyes dimming with defeat, her lace-clad chest rising with a resigned breath. She couldn't argue—not with Tazka's command ringing in her ears, not when her heart ached to rush to the border and save Ssyra herself.
She turned to leave, her cloak dragging, but Jake stepped forward, his voice trembling but clear, surprising everyone as he faced the queen directly.
"Wait—please, Queen Tazka," he said, his tone respectful but firm, his hands clenching at his sides as he met her gold eyes, her dusky purple skin a stark contrast to the throne's pale bones.
"I want to be part of this—if it's a fight against Kalthar, I want to help. I've been… I'm grateful Valthera's taken me in, but I don't want to be shipped off to some enemy kingdom like a trophy if they win. I can do more—I want to prove I can help you, not just… not just that." His words faltered, but his hazel eyes held steady, a spark of genuine resolve cutting through his nerves.
The room fell silent, Veyra's golden eyes widening slightly, Rixa's tail pausing mid-swing, Lyra's glowing gaze snapping to him with a flicker of surprise. Tazka's lips curled into a faint smile, a rare softness breaking her stern mask, but it vanished as her eyes narrowed, her voice low and challenging.
"Oh? You think you've got more to offer Valthera than your seed, little bird?" She leaned back, her tail coiling again, her gold chains clinking as she studied him. "Fine—stay here with Lyra, listen in. But you'll need to show me you're useful beyond warming beds. Impress me, or you're back to your duties with no complaints. Understood?"
Jake gulped, his throat tight, his hands trembling as her challenge sank in. This was his shot—one chance to prove he could be more than a breeding tool in Valthera, to carve out a place beyond the relentless cycle of desire. The weight of their gazes—Veyra's skepticism, Rixa's curiosity, Lyra's faint hope—pressed on him, but he nodded, his voice a whisper. "Understood."
Tazka's smile returned, sharp and predatory, as she waved a hand. "Good. Sit, both of you—let's see what you've got, little bird." The discussion resumed, the fate of Ssyra and Valthera hanging in the balance, and Jake knew he'd just stepped into a game far bigger—and far riskier—than he'd ever played.
Veyra and Rixa resumed their arguments while Tazka observed which one of their arguments weighed more. Then...
A new pair of footsteps echoed, the chamber's floor. Veyra and Rixa stood poised mid-argument, their voices stilled by the footsteps—steady, deliberate, cutting through the chamber like a blade. All heads turned as a woman strode in, her presence commanding despite the stark seriousness etched into her features, her emotionless face a mask of cold determination.
She was a mirror of Ssyra—same sharp jaw, same piercing gaze, same reptilian grace—but where Ssyra's scales shimmered green, hers gleamed a deep, midnight blue, catching the torchlight in subtle glints across her leather-clad form.
Her armor was sleek, practical, hugging her muscular frame with a warrior's precision, her clawed hands resting at her sides, her tail—a thick, wyvern-like appendage—trailing behind her, its tip twitching faintly. Her eyes, a chilling silver, flicked briefly to Jake before settling on Tazka, her expression unreadable, her voice low and steady as she spoke without preamble.
Tazka rose slightly, her tail uncoiling as she gestured toward the newcomer. "Jake, meet Tsyra—Ssyra's twin wyvern sister," she said, her tone clipped but formal, her dusky purple skin taut with strain. "One of Valthera's finest warriors."