[Evelyn’s POV]

The hall hums with voices and clattering plates, the sharp scent of roasted meat thick in the air. Lanternlight warms the stone walls, softening edges that never truly soften.

I slide onto the bench beside Mira, my shoulders finally easing for the first time since selections ended, tension draining from muscles that have been tight for days.

“We did it,” Finn says, lifting his cup. His grin is wide and unguarded, bright with disbelief and relief. “All of us. I still keep expecting someone to tell me it was a mistake.”

Dorian knocks his knuckles on the table, the sound sharp against the wood.

“Roster-bound,” he says, shaking his head. “I won’t believe it until they put my name in ink.”

Mira laughs, breathless and bright, her eyes shining. “Believe it. We earned it. Every bruise, every night we thought we’d fail—it all paid off.”

I lift my cup with them, the metal warm in my palm. “To surviving then,” I say, and mean far more than just tonight.

“To thriving,” Finn corrects, leaning in to clink his cup against mine. “And to not getting cut tomorrow for something stupid.”

Laughter rolls around us, easy and loud, and my chest loosens in response. For a moment, I let myself feel it—the relief, the pride, the fragile joy of belonging right here, right now.

Mira leans closer, her smile turning sharp with curiosity. “Did you see him during your spar?”

I choke on a sip, coughing into my fist.

“See who?” I ask, even though my pulse already knows the answer.

She smirks, eyes dancing. “Don’t insult me. You know exactly who.”

Dorian snorts into his drink. “Draven.”

“Ah-h.” Finn’s brows lift in quiet understanding. “That explains it.”

Heat crawls up my neck, spreading fast. “I was focused on my footing,” I say too quickly, voice tight. “That’s all.”

Mira’s smile turns wicked as she tilts her head.

“He looked at you like he wanted to kill you.” She pauses just long enough to make it hurt, then adds, softer and amused, “Or kiss you.”

I cough again, harder this time, my face burning. “That’s absurd. Completely absurd.”

“Is it?” Mira asks gently. “Because you felt it. We all did.”

I press my cup to my lips to hide my face, but my heart betrays me anyway, skidding and racing like a startled animal.

I’ve felt it—the way the room tightens when Draven enters, the way my skin remembers his hands correcting my stance, firm and precise, lingering just long enough to unsettle me.

Finn watches me over the rim of his cup, eyes thoughtful. “You could do worse,” he says carefully.

“Finn,” Mira warns, shooting him a look.

“I’m just saying,” he replies with a shrug. “Stranger things have happened.”

I push back from the table, standing before my thoughts spiral further.

“Walk with me?” I ask, needing air, distance, anything.

“Of course,” Mira says, rising immediately with concern flickering beneath her teasing.

The night air cools my flushed skin as we leave the hall, the noise fading behind us. Footsteps echo on stone, steady and grounding. Somewhere above, a dragon rumbles low, the sound vibrating through bone and memory alike.

We walk in companionable silence until my curiosity pricks too sharply to ignore, curling in my chest like an unanswered question.

“I’ve been wondering,” I say carefully. “Why is this the High House of the Black Dragon? It isn’t only because of Draven’s, it’s the old name and I didn’t see any other black dragons. I thought rare breeds only appear in times of great need but your House doesn’t seem to struggle.”

Mira slows, lanternlight catching a shadow that crosses her face. The shift is subtle but unmistakable, as if I’ve brushed against something old and dangerous.

“They do,” she says. “Everywhere else.” She exhales slowly before continuing. “Our territory is different. Black dragons appear in our nests more often than anywhere in the known lands. No one knows why.”

I glance at her, unease stirring. “That’s… really unusual.”

“Yes, and it’s exactly why other houses hate us,” she replies, jaw tightening. “They call it unfair. Unnatural. Once even accused of stealing rare eggs from other nests. What a morrons.”

She gestures toward the darkness beyond the walls.

But there’s something inside me, in my chest, that betrays my common sense. That craves it. That wants to challenge him. Wants his attention focused on me.

I still can’t pinpoint what and why, but I can’t just ignore his existence even if I wanted to. And I don’t.

We reach the turn toward the quarters, lanternlight pooling at our feet. “I should go,” I say quietly. “Thank you. For telling me.”

She hesitates, eyes searching my face. “Evelyn… are you sure you’re all right?”

I smile because it’s easier than the truth. “I will be.”

Mira nods, though her gaze lingers, unconvinced. I walk alone after that, each step echoing too loudly in the silence.

Lyanna. Blue Dragon. Ambush.

My house. My family.

The realization hits with a sickening force. If Draven ever learns who I am, he won’t see a sparring partner or a curiosity, or a woman who makes his pulse quicken.

He’ll see justice.

I reach my door with trembling hands, the quiet inside pressing in as soon as I close it behind me. I lean against the wood, heart hammering, skin cold despite the warmth.

His hands correcting my stance. His eyes on me in the yard. The way my thoughts and will betrays me every time.

I press a fist to my mouth, stifling the sound that tries to escape. After Kael, I swore I’d never be foolish again. Never trust my heart. Never let it lead me into danger.

And yet something about Draven draws me in, even now, even knowing this truth.

I slide down the door, breath shaking, dread curling tight in my chest.

If he ever discovers who I truly am, he won’t cast me out. He’ll kill me himself and consider it justice.