The Girl at Midnight by Melissa Grey

pulled at Dorian’s aching body, and soon enough, they were gone. They left the unforgiving rocky shore behind them as they fled to Wyvern’s Keep, a place that Dorian had only dreamed of seeing.
    Nearly dying in his first battle wasn’t the most illustrious moment of Dorian’s military career, but it had been the most significant. He had found the person to whom he had pledged his sword and his soul, and every step he had taken since then had been by Caius’s side.
    He was still rubbing at the empty socket that had once held an eye when a tap on his shoulder pulled him from the memory. Dorian turned. When he saw who it was, he looked skyward and asked the heavens,
Why?
    “Deep in thought, I see.” Tanith was still wearing her golden armor, and it made her shine even in the twilight. “Try not to drown.”
    “Ah, Tanith,” Dorian sighed. “Please, observe my sincere laughter.”
    Silence.
    “Cute,” said Tanith. “Too bad my brother doesn’t see it.”
    Despite his rank and station, Dorian was not, by nature, a violent man, but his hands twitched into fists at his sides. It would not do to strike the general of the entire Drakharin army. It simply would not do.
    “Can I help you with something?” he asked. It was that or start swinging.
    “Oh, on the contrary.” Tanith smiled. “I came to ask if you needed any help for your trip to …”
    And there it was. Strange how some people did nothing without an ulterior motive.
    Dorian shook his head, turning his attention back to his guards. They were ready, waiting patiently along the shore for their captain to open a gateway to the in-between, watching with thinly veiled curiosity. It was the Drakharin way. If you wanted a conversation kept private, you had it in private. Public displays were fair game.
    “If Caius had wanted you to know,” Dorian said, “he would have told you.”
    “Right,” Tanith chuckled. “Far be it from me to interrogate his errand boy.”
    “I am the captain of his guard,” Dorian said. “I do what he asks me to do.”
    Tanith stepped forward, red cloak brushing noisily over the pebbly shore. Her blond hair fell freely about her shoulders, and a few long strands were picked up by the evening breeze. Dorian eyed the billowing folds of her wool cloak. She could have hidden a blade or two in those depths. Knowing her, she probably had.
    “You are the captain of the royal guard, it’s true,” said Tanith. “And so long as Caius is the Dragon Prince, you are his.”
    Dorian went as still as stone. “What are you implying?”
    Tanith stood before him now, close enough for him to feel her warmth. Fire was her element to call, and the scant few inches between their bodies radiated with her heat.
    “I imply nothing,” said Tanith. “I’m merely stating that as captain of the royal guard, your allegiance lies with the Dragon Prince, whoever he—or she—may be.”
    So that was her game. She had always envied Caius. People may have loved him, but they feared her. It was no secret that she thought she would make a better Dragon Prince than Caius, but this was brazen, even for her.
    “Caius may be blinded by the brotherly love he inexplicably still harbors for you,” Dorian said. “But you’re no sister of mine.”
    “No, of course not.” Tanith smiled, slow and poison sweet. “Rumor has it that it’s another kind of love that distracts you.”
    Dorian tensed, and Tanith’s grin widened. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said. The words rang hollow, even to his own ears.
    “Methinks the lady doth protest too much.”
    Dorian chose not to dignify her statement with a response. He stepped forward, one foot an inch deep in the water, another firmly on dry land. Half in the sea, half on the sand, he sprinkled a handful of shadow dust, summoning an opening to the in-between. Wisps of darkness arose from the ground and within seconds, his guards were gone.
    “Have a safe journey,” Tanith said. Her face