Rhea #2
I remember the terror in their eyes as we—we, not only Tahr—delved into their minds, stripping away their secrets like peeling an orange.
Craven had his trusted scholars going over the ancient texts that described the prophecy.
He didn’t believe Heratrix was coming back.
Instead, he thought there was a conspiracy to steal his throne.
So he was planning to send the entire Sky Order to Hearthdale, an invasion force that would have destroyed everything.
But we wiped their minds of our presence and sent them back thinking they’d found nothing.
“You remember now,” Tahr says, his voice honey-smooth with satisfaction.
I nod slowly, feeling Zephyros’s confusion pounding through our bond.
—Little one, your thoughts are… I cannot make sense of them.
—I remember, Zephyros. All of it. It’s all right. I’ll explain. It’ll all make sense.
—You are my rider, he insists, protective rage building. Whatever this creature has done to you—
—No. I chose this. I chose to forget so I could return, so my presence could pacify the King.
Vaylen moves closer, Wind Spear still aimed at Tahr’s heart. “Rhealyn, step away from him.”
I shake my head. “It’s too late for that.” I turn to Tahr. “Your timing is absolute shit. We needed more time.”
“Time ran out, darling,” Tahr replies simply.
“What the wyrm-shit is goin’ on here?” Dakar growls, wind whipping around his lean form.
I face them all, these men who thought they could trust me. “I’m sorry,” I say, meaning it despite everything. “But there’s a greater purpose here than you can understand.”
My gaze lands on Vaylen, his handsome face contorted with confusion and betrayal. Something in my chest aches at what I must do.
“Rhealyn?” he whispers, and for a moment, I waver.
But the memory of Heratrix, of thousands of unborn dragons waiting to change the world, steadies my resolve.
“Enough!” Dakar shouts.
His Wind Spear flies through the air toward Tahr before I can react.
Robert doesn’t hesitate either, releasing his hovering daggers with deadly accuracy.
The weapons streak toward Tahr in a blur of light and steel.
Time seems to slow, and Tahr simply raises one elegant hand, palm outward.
The spell breaks. The daggers hit some invisible barrier inches from his skin, falling uselessly to the ground with a pathetic clink.
Dakar’s Wind Spear—a weapon that can tear through Screechclaw hide—dissolves into nothing, like smoke scattered by a breeze.
“What the actual fuck?” Dakar’s jaw hangs open, eyes wild with shock. “He’s a dual.”
Phoebe shakes her head, green eyes huge.
Vaylen steps forward, his face hardening into something terrible and beautiful. “What in all the hells are you?”
“Something far older than your petty Sky Order,” Tahr answers, his eyes glittering with amusement.
My heart hammers against my ribs. I knew Tahr was powerful, but this—this is beyond anything I’ve seen.
Even in my recovered memories, he never revealed the full extent of his abilities.
Fear and fascination war within me. Part of me wants to run to Vaylen, to feel his solid presence, to apologize for the betrayal that hasn’t even fully happened yet.
But the other part—the part that lived hidden for a year—pulls me toward Tahr like gravity.
He seems so cruel, but I know him better.
I take a step toward him, reminding myself of what truly matters. The future of Embernia. Heratrix and her eggs. And Tahr himself—his guidance, his vision, the way he showed me my true purpose, a better future.
My fingers interlace with his. His touch is familiar, scorching my skin with memories of midnight whispers and shared secrets. Power radiates between us, something ancient and undeniable.
“No.” Vaylen’s voice cracks, his features disfiguring with pain. The betrayal in those spellbinding eyes cuts deeper than I expected. “Don’t do this.”
“You’ll understand one day,” I tell him, though I doubt my words even as I speak them.
How could he possibly understand when I’ve shown him only fragments of who I truly am?
“The war, the Screechclaws, Heratrix… it’s all connected.
What’s coming will be terrible, but afterward, Embernia will be safe for once and for all. ”
He stands there, shaking with fury and hurt.
“It was always going to end this way,” I say, squeezing Tahr’s hand. “There never could have been an us. I tried to warn you, to spare you, but…”
Zephyros roars behind me, his confusion battering against my mind. I block him out, another betrayal to add to my growing list. But he will understand in time.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, not sure who I’m apologizing to anymore, Vaylen, Zephyros, or the woman I used to be.
The air changes, pressure dropping so fast my ears pop painfully. The sky darkens as though a storm materializes from nowhere. But this is no storm. A deafening roar splits the heavens, like the realm breaking apart. I feel it in my bones, in my blood, in the very marrow of who I am.
“She’s here,” Tahr whispers, squeezing my hand.
I look up as a shadow blots out the sun. Massive. Impossibly massive. Wings that could cover villages stretch across the sky, iridescent scales catching sunlight in colors I have no names for.
Heratrix.
The Goddess of dragons descends from impossible heights, each wingbeat creating gusts strong enough to nearly knock us from our feet.
Vaylen and the others stumble backward, their faces twisted in disbelief and horror.
I can’t blame them. No living human has seen Heratrix in a millennium. She was myth, legend, wishful thinking.
Yet here she is. And she’s magnificent.
Tahr tugs my hand. “It’s time.”
Wind swirls around us as we command a Vortex Lift together, our combined power spiraling us upward with breathtaking speed.
Heratrix sweeps low, her enormous head—larger than any dragon’s—dipping to meet us.
We land on the crest between her burning eyes, scales beneath my boots cool and vibrating with mighty power.
“No!” Vaylen’s scream cuts through everything. “Rhealyn, don’t!”
Phoebe reaches out a hand. “Please, Rhea.”
Zephyros’s roar of fury crashes against my mind, his rage and confusion battering my defenses.
—WHAT ARE YOU DOING? HOW DARE YOU MOUNT ANOTHER DRAGON?
I reach out through our bond.
—Zephyros, please! Come with us. I’ll explain everything.
—I WILL TEAR YOU FROM HER BACK MYSELF! His thoughts are jagged with betrayal.
—Stop! I command, throwing every ounce of our bond into the command. I’m still your rider. Forever your rider. But Heratrix is awakened now, and everything changes. Please trust me. There’s so much you don’t understand.
His fury wavers, confusion seeping through. —You… mount the Queen herself. How is this possible?
—Because of who I am. What I am. Please, follow us. I need you with me.
Heratrix tilts her massive head toward the ground. Her jaws open, and fire—hotter than anything I’ve ever felt—erupts in a perfect circle around Vaylen and the others. They cry out, stepping back from the flames that rise higher than their heads.
Vaylen’s face is the last thing I see clearly, devastation etched into every line, those beautiful eyes reflecting fire and heartbreak. My chest tightens painfully.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, though he can’t possibly hear me. “I wish there had been another way.”
Heratrix’s muscles bunch beneath us. One powerful downstroke of her wings lifts us skyward with dizzying speed. Tahr’s arm steadies me as we rise, his Tethers secure on his dragon. Behind us, Zephyros follows, his silver form small compared to the Queen’s majesty.
I don’t look back again. I can’t bear to see what I’m leaving behind. Emberton beckons ahead, promising a shining destiny for Embernia and the end of the millennium-long conflict with the Screechclaws.