Chapter 690: THE EMERALD

The corridors opened into light.

Not the blinding kind that hurts your eyes, but a soft, living brightness that seemed to breathe with the walls themselves. Pale stone arched overhead, threaded with veins of silver and green that pulsed faintly as we walked, as if the castle recognized the blood moving through my veins.

Aiden walked beside me, unhurried.

Everywhere we went, people stopped.

Not abruptly. Not fearfully.

They simply paused mid-conversation, mid-step and bowed their heads. Some placed a hand over their heart.

Others knelt briefly, reverently, before rising again with gentle smiles.

No tension.

No suspicion.

No whispers.

Just respect.

I felt something loosen inside my chest.

“They respect you,” I said quietly, unable to hide the small note of wonder in my voice.

Aiden glanced at me. “They respect the balance,” he corrected. “Not the crown.”

I smiled faintly at that.

The air here felt different than anywhere I’d ever been. It wasn’t heavy with magic like the throne room had been. It was… settled. Calm. Like the land itself was at peace.

We stepped out onto a wide terrace overlooking the city.

The view stole my breath all over again.

The pack stretched below us in soft curves and layers terraced gardens, arched walkways, bridges woven from crystal and living wood. Water shimmered through everything, flowing freely without barriers or guards. Wolves moved among it all like they belonged there.

Which they did.

“Aiden,” I said. “The dragons… are they all here?”

He followed my gaze to the sky, where distant shapes circled lazily through the clouds.

“Yes,” he said. “They were left on this side.”

“Left?” I echoed.

Aiden nodded. “The other world was never kind to them. Too many kings, too many conquerors. Too many who wanted to chain what they didn’t understand.

My jaw tightened.

“So they came here,” I murmured.

“They were brought,” he corrected gently. “By choice. By treaty. By trust.”

As if summoned by his words, a shadow crossed the terrace.

My breath caught.

A massive dragon descended in a slow spiral, scales glowing deep copper-red in the sun. The wind of its wings rushed over us, warm and powerful, lifting my hair and tugging at my dress.

Instinctively, I stepped closer to Aiden.

The dragon landed gracefully, claws curling against the stone as though it weighed nothing at all.

It lowered its massive head.

Aiden reached out without hesitation and pressed his palm to its brow, rubbing just beneath a ridge of hardened scale.

“Well met, old friend,” he murmured.

The dragon released a low, rumbling sound not a roar.

A purr.

My eyes widened. “She… understands you.”

“She understands intent,” Aiden replied. “Here, they are not weapons. They are companions.”

The dragon’s golden eye flicked to me.

I froze.

Then, slowly, she leaned closer, her enormous snout lowering until warm breath brushed my cheek.

I didn’t scream.

I didn’t run.

I lifted my hand at first hesitant and touched her scale.

It was warm.

Alive.

Steady.

She huffed softly and pulled back, wings shifting before she leapt skyward again, circling once before disappearing into the clouds.

My heart pounded.

“That was…” I exhaled. “Incredible.”

Aiden smiled.

We continued walking, the path winding through gardens and stone bridges until my thoughts caught up with me again.

“Father,” I said slowly. “There’s something I don’t understand.”

He turned his head slightly, giving me his full attention.

“The siren,” I continued. “She said I must have died to know the death song. But I don’t remember dying. I don’t understand how that’s possible.”

His expression didn’t change.

Not immediately.

“I don’t know how it happened,” he said carefully.

That answer unsettled me more than a lie would have.

I stopped walking.

“Do you have sirens here?” I asked.

He shook his head. “No. They belong to another realm.”

“Then how—”

“All questions have their time,” he interrupted gently. “And yours are… layered.”

I frowned but followed him as he led me beneath a canopy of flowering vines.

“Let me tell you a story,” he said.

We sat on a stone bench warmed by the sun.

“When the Goddess shaped this world,” Aiden began, “she created many beings wolves, sirens, mages, dragons. Each carried a fragment of her intention.”

I listened, heart steady.

“But there was one thing she could not leave divided,” he continued. “Life itself.”

My fingers tightened around my skirt.

“So she cast it into the world,” he said softly. “An emerald. Not a jewel, but an essence. The breath between heartbeats. The reason anything lives at all.”

I thought of my necklace.

The way it pulsed.

The way the throne had answered it.

“There was an ancient king,” Aiden went on. “Power-hungry. Clever. Dangerous. He believed if he possessed the emerald, he would rule life and death itself.”

My stomach twisted.

“He was your ancestor,” Aiden said quietly.

The words landed like a stone in water.

“They warred for generations,” he continued. “The world nearly broke. And so peace was forced. The emerald was shattered.”

I swallowed.

“Six pieces,” he said.

He lifted his hand and counted slowly.

“One rests with the sirens.”

“One with the mages.”

“One is bound to the throne you sat upon here.”

“One is embedded in the throne of the distant lands.”

Then his hand lowered gently to my chest.

“And one,” he said softly, fingers brushing the emerald at my throat, “is here.”

My breath stuttered.

“That’s… five,” I whispered.

Aiden’s gaze darkened just a fraction.

“The sixth,” he said, “was corrupted.”

The air seemed to cool.

“It was hidden,” he continued. “Sealed away. Because if it is touched… it does not merely grant power.”

I leaned forward. “What does it do?”

“It twists,” he said. “Corrupts. It turns intention into obsession. Love into control. Protection into tyranny.”

A chill ran through me.

“That piece must never be found,” he finished. “If all six were ever reunited… the result would decide the fate of every realm.”

I stared at my hands, then at the emerald at my throat.

“So many answers,” I murmured. “And somehow… even more questions.”

Aiden placed a hand on my shoulder.

“All in time,” he said again, smiling gently. “You’ve already come so far.”

I nodded slowly.

But deep inside me, something stirred.

A quiet, uneasy thought I couldn’t yet name.

Because stories no matter how beautiful always leave out something.

And I didn’t yet know what this one was hiding.