Chapter 38 - The List
1299 Words
Elara stood in front of the wardrobe with her arms folded.
A few shirts hung inside.
Two pairs of jeans.
A jacket.
That was all.
When she packed for Draegon, clothes had been the last thing on her mind.
Life had taken a different path.
Weeks later, she found herself cycling through the same outfits often enough to notice.
"Planning to stare them into multiplying?"
She glanced over her shoulder.
Thorne leaned against the doorway with a mug of coffee in one hand.
"Maybe."
His gaze swept over the wardrobe before returning to her.
"You've been standing there for a while."
"There aren't enough clothes."
Understanding crossed his face.
"You packed for a visit."
"I packed for uncertainty."
The correction escaped before she could think better of it.
Something shifted in his expression before disappearing again.
Neither addressed it.
He lifted his mug.
"We can solve that."
Her brow furrowed.
"You want to go shopping?"
"I want you to stop looking offended every time you open the wardrobe."
A laugh slipped free.
"Fair enough."
The drive turned out to be more enjoyable than she expected.
A comfortable silence filled the truck while the bond rested quietly between them. During her first days in Draegon, the connection had demanded constant attention. Over time it had become familiar enough that she rarely focused on it unless something disturbed the balance.
Now she found herself aware of it again.
The steady rhythm of Thorne's concentration.
His patience behind the wheel.
The faint amusement that surfaced whenever she reacted to something outside.
Distance from the castle seemed to strengthen the connection. Away from meetings, responsibilities, and constant interruptions, there was room to notice it.
What unsettled her was how natural it felt.
Beyond the window, Draegon unfolded around her.
Families wandered through shaded parks while children raced along the sidewalks on bicycles. Workers unloaded supplies outside local businesses and a group of mechanics debated something beside an open engine.
Everywhere she looked, life carried on.
For years she had imagined Draegon as little more than an enemy beyond the border.
Reality looked very different.
A school appeared ahead.
Students crossed a sports field while teachers supervised from nearby benches.
"What?"
She turned toward him.
His eyes remained on the road.
"You've been staring out the window the entire drive."
Heat touched her cheeks.
"I didn't expect this."
"The school?"
"The town."
She motioned toward the streets ahead.
"Everything."
A hint of curiosity slipped through the bond.
"What exactly were you expecting?"
Elara watched a family emerge from a grocery store carrying enough bags to stock a month's worth of meals.
The answer sounded foolish now.
She had expected Draegon to feel foreign.
Instead, it reminded her of home.
A few minutes later they entered the town center.
People drifted between shops carrying takeaway coffees and shopping bags. Bright flower baskets hung from lampposts while music floated from an open doorway somewhere nearby.
The place felt vibrant.
A sudden growl interrupted her thoughts.
Elara froze.
Unfortunately, Thorne heard it.
A smirk appeared.
"No."
The smirk remained firmly in place.
"You skipped breakfast."
"I did."
His amusement brushed lightly through the bond.
The scent of coffee drifted through the open window.
Thorne pointed toward a café.
"I think your stomach has decided our next stop."
"Traitor."
His laugh surprised her.
"Coffee first."
"Then clothes."
"Now you're thinking clearly."
The café smelled of coffee beans, baked bread, and fresh pastries.
Soft music drifted through the room while sunlight streamed through large windows overlooking the street.
Elara wrapped both hands around a steaming mug.
A blueberry muffin rested on the plate in front of her.
The first bite nearly made her close her eyes in appreciation.
Across the table, Thorne watched with obvious satisfaction.
"Better?"
She swallowed.
"Much."
Outside, people moved through their morning routines while traffic rolled steadily past the windows.
For several minutes, the conversation drifted toward nothing important.
The atmosphere felt relaxed.
Easy.
Then something shifted.
The change arrived through the bond first.
A faint tension.
An undercurrent she hadn't noticed before.
Elara looked up.
Thorne's attention had drifted toward the window.
His coffee sat untouched.
The frustration she sensed had been there all along, buried beneath everything else.
She lowered her mug.
"What's wrong?"
His jaw tightened.
"The council knew about the prisoners."
She nodded.
"You already suspected there was a spy."
"I suspected."
His gaze lifted to hers.
"Now I know."
The certainty behind those words erased any lingering doubt.
"What happens now?"
"I find them."
Elara believed him.
The conviction rolling through the bond left little room for uncertainty.
"How?"
He leaned back slightly.
"What happened at the prison confirmed what I'd already been wondering."
A frown touched her face.
"You've been tracking this for months."
"For months."
"Since before the treaty?"
"Yes."
His attention shifted toward the street once more.
"The council knew too much."
"About what?"
"Draegon's finances."
The answer surprised her.
"They knew we were struggling before negotiations even started."
A knot tightened in her stomach.
That explained far more than she liked.
"When discussions stalled, they knew. Failed supply agreements reached them. Changes to patrol rotations reached them."
He rubbed a hand across his jaw.
"Every piece seemed harmless until I stepped back and looked at the whole picture."
Understanding settled over her.
"The prison incident pushed it over the line."
Thorne nodded.
"They knew about the wolves."
"They knew about our confrontation."
"They knew details that should never have left Draegon."
Elara leaned back in her chair.
"The council shouldn't have known any of it."
"They shouldn't."
"And the list?"
He reached into his jacket and unfolded a piece of paper.
"I went back through every incident."
Treaty discussions.
Financial reports.
Supply shortages.
Patrol changes.
The prisoners.
"Then I tracked who was present when those topics came up."
That made sense.
Half the pack had witnessed the confrontation at the prison.
One event wasn't enough to narrow anything down.
A pattern stretching across months was another matter entirely.
"The same names kept appearing."
Elara took the paper.
Four names stared back at her.
Marder.
Jace.
Tobin.
And at the bottom:
Brent.
The builder.
She read through the list again.
"You have suspects."
"Exactly."
His response carried a hint of approval.
"Who draws the most attention?"
"Brent."
The answer arrived immediately.
Elara lifted her eyes.
"Because he leaves the territory."
"He spends time outside Draegon every week."
"Which gives him opportunity."
"It does."
She folded the paper and placed it on the table.
"That's still an assumption."
A line formed between his brows.
Elara continued before he could respond.
"You're focused on finding a spy."
"I'm focused on finding whoever is responsible."
She tapped the folded paper.
"And you're already convinced it's Brent."
"He has the most opportunity."
"Which makes him the easiest answer."
The words lingered between them.
His expression gave little away.
"You disagree."
"I think you've chosen the most obvious suspect."
Silence stretched briefly.
"That doesn't make him innocent."
"No."
She tapped the list again.
"It means we don't know."
Thorne's gaze dropped to the names.
Marder.
Jace.
Tobin.
Brent.
Four names.
Four possibilities.
"What would you do?"
Elara met his eyes.
"Investigate all four."
His brow lifted slightly.
"One by one?"
"One by one."
A slow breath left him.
"The truth doesn't care what we expect."
Outside, the town continued with its day.
Customers entered stores.
Conversations drifted along the sidewalk.
Life carried on, completely unaware of the discussion taking place inside the café.
Several seconds passed before Thorne nodded.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
For the first time since the council's visit, Elara felt as though they were finally moving in the right direction.
Somewhere among those four names was an answer.
Finding it would take patience.
At least now they had somewhere to begin.
- Writer
