Ashborn Chapter 8
Grounded. Guarded. Silenced. The Riders are confined to their quarters under the Order’s watchful eye—but Dareya’s secrets burn too brightly to be caged.
As I entered the deserted corridor leading to my quarters, the intercom system crackled to life, shattering the stillness.
“All Riders, this is a direct order from Warden Brielle.” The disembodied voice droned. “Effective immediately, all Riders are to remain confined to their quarters unless summoned for training or command review. All flights are suspended until further notice. Compliance is mandatory.”
The line went dead.
I froze, the weight of the order sinking in. No flights. No freedom.
I wanted to run to Veyrakh, but his warning echoed in my head: They want to clip our wings.
I clenched my fists. This wasn’t just politics. The timing wasn’t coincidence. Someone had noticed. Maybe the Archivist. Maybe that smug bastard with the black robe. Maybe Ageli. Maybe all of them.
My instincts told me to reach for Veyrakh through the thread I knew that bound us. I wanted to feel his mind against mine, his cocky and teasing voice reassuring me that all this wasn’t as bad as it felt.
But I didn’t.
I couldn’t.
We had agreed that for now to not contact one another unless it was absolutely necessary. Our bond was different, not public. I didn’t understand it, but it was far too volatile to survive if we fell under the scrutiny of the wrong sets of eyes. I was on my own in this.
