Chapter 10 #2
“Lorik is the worst of the worst. He asked me out on a date once. I declined. He then challenged me for my crown, and we fought. When I went in for the killing blow, humiliation drove him to the brink. Instead of accepting defeat, he recoiled. In that instant, he chose hatred and blame over honor and acceptance. The shift tore through him, the power of it hurling me back, giving him the chance to flee. Rather than face what he’d done, he embraced the darkest parts of himself.
Now he’s obsessed with destroying everything I love. ”
“Hmm.”
That was it? All I got for sharing a part of my life? Figured. My turn to ask a question. “You snuck into my home without my knowledge and watched me. Why didn’t you kill me while you had the chance?”
A muscle jumped beneath his eye. “That was my intention in the beginning. I used the cutters I told you about to sneak in and out on many occasions, learning the palace an hour at a time. I had decided to keep my distance from you until I was certain I could oversee your end and escape without notice. But one night…” He pressed his lips together and gave a frustrated huff, refusing to go on. Leaving me frothing with curiosity.
What happened that one night?
Taron plodded on in a new direction. “What’s your endgame?” he asked, holding a branch out of my way. “With your kingdom, I mean. Every ruler has an aspiration.”
Oh. “I work to ensure my people are safe from shifters and rogue berserkers.” A role I hadn’t wanted in the beginning but had never taken lightly.
“When my father died, his crown was up for grabs. It was a difficult time, when women were chattel, often given as rewards for feats in battle. Many warriors considered taking possession of my sisters.” And me.
I pressed my tongue to the roof of my mouth as we plodded onward. “I made sure they failed.”
“Hmm,” he repeated, keeping pace.
I balled my hands. What did a woman have to do to impress this man?
With what might have been but couldn’t be a glimmer of admiration, he added, “Such a responsibility must weigh on you.”
My shoulders squared of their own accord. “Ja.” No reason to deny it. “Are you trying to understand the monster queen, Taron?” A military tactic as certain as a gingerbread trail.
“Something like that,” he muttered.
Yet I wasn’t upset about it. “What did you witness at my palace that made you draw up a totally new game plan?” I asked, returning to our original subject. I had to know.
He worked his jaw. “I saw you. You emerged from the air and landed, your wings dissipating behind you in a shimmering cloud. In that moment, I understood that I didn’t have time to learn your land to my satisfaction.
Taking you out as swiftly as possible was the only avenue left to me.
And yet, still I came back twice more just to observe you. ”
Because he’d wanted me, even then? My eyes rounded. I opened my mouth. Closed it.
A familiar fragrance breached my awareness, and I stopped. My blood fizzed with dread as I flared my claws. “We’ve got company.”
Taron stopped with me; tension jacked sky-high.
“Took you long enough to notice,” an amused voice called, slightly muffled.
Muffled or not, I would have recognized that mocking baritone anytime, anywhere.
Lorik.
He’d snuck into my realm undetected? I ground my teeth as I searched for any sign of him in the surrounding terrain. “Get ready to run,” I told my companion. Where the shifter king was, his army followed. A mortal would never survive the coming blaze.
Taron scrubbed a hand over his face, furious rather than worried.
“Lorik isn’t here in the flesh.” He worked his jaw before pulling the necklace from beneath his shirt.
Light shone from the stone set in the dangling ring.
That light cast images onto the surface of a gray boulder before us.
A grinning holographic image of the shifter king appeared.
His second-in-command, Rainer, stood beside him.
Lorik was a gorgeous man in any form, human, dragon, even shifter. Pointed ears. Pupils, mere slits, lit up in emberrose flames. Emerald scales from his neck down. Too sharp teeth.
Rainer maintained most of his human form, broad-shouldered and rangy.
He was a man I’d once considered a friend.
Now, the sight of him only brought sadness.
His pale hair caught the light of the sun.
A jagged scar he’d earned as we’d learned to fly together stretched from his temple to his jaw, bisecting a cold expression that had once shone only with warmth.
Realization dawned with sickening clarity.
I’d known Taron had worked with the shifter king, but I thought we’d reached a truce.
“You’re still working together,” I spat at the professor.
Betrayed! I’d foolishly followed his gingerbread trail.
“You lied to me.” And I hadn’t suspected.
That hit hardest. But ugh! I hated the hurt in my words.
“No,” he burst out. “Yes.” He scrubbed his face again. “Not the way you think. I purchased the ring from him, believing it to be a talisman able to mute my…attraction to you. I didn’t realize it was a communication device until I felt it vibrate and heard his voice.”
I blinked, recalling every time he’d gripped it. Hoping not to feel for me? I could almost forgive him.
“Aw. Are the lovebirds feuding?" Lorik pretended to pout.
I snapped my mouth shut. Nein. Nein, nein, nein. I shouldn’t be having this discussion in front of Lorik, fueling his glee.
Taron glared at the hologram. “I will enjoy killing you.” His voice didn’t shake, but his grip on the blade did.
Lorik’s grin widened, white and toothy, and Taron’s hand tightened around the blade strapped to his side.
Then the shifter king zeroed his attention on me. “Olyssa dear, please know I didn’t scheme to bind you to Taron just to watch you fall apart when he dies. That is simply a bonus.” Wink.
Now it was my turn to tighten my grip around my weapon, not that it did me any good.
The king of the shifters made a big show of looking thoughtful.
“Unless, of course, you can break the bond before I strike.” Challenge laced the words, but so did amusement, as if he wanted me to try but knew I’d fail.
“Nein, I did this so you’d spend time together and come to care for him. Now the end will hurt so much more.”
Rainer finger-waved. “I look forward to your tears, Olyssa.”
Flame-flinger. What had I ever done to him?
I bit my tongue, tasting blood. My dragon huffed and puffed, dragging my temper to the surface. But the urge to test Taron in my flames? Extinguished. A development I didn’t understand.
“You know what the best part is?” Glee radiated from Lorik. “Even knowing my plan requires you fall for the mortal, you won’t be able to stop yourself from doing it.” The shifter king continued talking, but I marched past him.
He sputtered. “Our conversation isn’t over,” his hologram bellowed. “Come back.”
I kept going, marching on. Lorik had known I’d left the castle from the beginning. But he hadn’t attacked.
Hold up.
Why hadn’t he attacked? Instead, he’d wasted time taunting me. Granting me a reprieve to gather the ingredients.
Why not strike when my home—the stronghold of my people—was most vulnerable? Why merely listen to my plans and fracture my focus?
Because power wasn’t just force, but timing.
The realization hit like a lightning bolt. He didn’t want war. Yet. He wanted…what?
The ingredients I sought? To let me take the risk so he could steal them from me, preventing me from breaking the bond to Taron?
My hands fisted. Let him try to steal my ingredients. Nothing and no one would stop me from breaking the bond and sending Taron on his way. Then I would kill Lorik and deal with my father. Nyla, too, if she lived. Enjoy the happiness of my people.
Taron grumbled under his breath. I detected a slight thud of hurried footsteps as he rushed to catch up with me.
“I left the ring back there,” he began. “I swear I didn’t know that it acted as a—”
“It doesn’t matter,” I interjected. Because it didn’t. “You don’t owe me an explanation. I killed your loved ones. We’re eternal enemies. I get why you worked with the shifter.” I couldn’t even blame him. “Let’s just get the flower.”
There. That was the voice of a queen. I’d let a silly attraction distract me from my good sense. Put myself and my people in danger.
Mission first. Always.
Taron caught my wrist, stopping me and drawing my gaze to his. His honey irises searched my face. Whatever he saw caused a hard mask to settle over his features.
He gave a firm nod and released me. “Very well. Let’s go find that flower.”
My chest ached. Focus. The Bloodpetal Blossom only bloomed in dragon blood spilled in a blighted glade, guarded by wraithlings—twisted remnants of dragons who’d died in agony at the hands of their firebrands.
We walked all day. Perhaps we should have flown, but I couldn’t bear the thought of holding him within my smoke current.
We didn’t speak another word until we reached our destination.
At the top of a hill, we stood shoulder to shoulder, peering down upon the Glen of the Unmourned, where the ground dipped and carried the heavy smell of damp rot.
Dried, dead leaves swirled in circles at the lowest point of the clearing, guided by an invisible stream.
An unwelcome metallic taste formed in my mouth.
Eight wraithlings hovered above it, half ghost, half zombie, all white dragon, only warped.
They flew circles around a small patch of flowerless foliage, raining crimson tears upon it.
Malice crackled in the air as lightning flashed, followed by a high-pitched keening.
Too high-pitched to be dragon. Or human.
“I’ve never faced creatures like these,” he admitted.
“They materialize upon movement. And there’s no surprising them.
They already know we’re here, and what we’re planning.
” To show him the depths of danger, I picked up a rock and tossed it toward a flower beneath the phantoms. A single wraithling whipped its head in our direction, snarling a sound so sharp it stabbed my eardrums, drawing blood.
It caught the stone with its teeth, and the thing disintegrated.
Then the creature vanished from the circle, only to reappear directly in front of us, its wings spread, revealing a thousand snapping mouths. Endless pools of pain stared straight into my soul, sending a cold shudder down my spine.
Taron reared back, startled, then attempted to slice the beast with his sword, but I caught his wrist, stopping him.
“Do not make contact within their domain. They cannot top the hill. Can’t reach you here.
They’re all tethered.” Even as the wraithling closest to us strained, some force held it fast. The air crackled, and the scent of ozone added to the rot.
In frustration, all those mouths stopped snapping and started screaming.
Sharp, searing stabs in my temples. Hot blood poured from my ears. The same must have happened to Taron. He bellowed and flattened his hands over his own.
Why must this potion quest always be so difficult?
When our tormentor realized we wouldn’t budge, and it wouldn’t make contact, it vanished again, reappearing in the circle.
“I’ll handle the wraithlings and acquire the flower,” I said, passing Taron my pack and removing the retractable spear.
He shook his head. “We go together.”
Something akin to hope stirred in my chest. Thankfully, it died on its own a moment later.
I didn’t see concern for my safety in his eyes, but conviction.
The kind he’d been raised on. The kind that taught him dragons were fire-breathing monsters, and humans would always pay a hefty price for trusting one.
Well, too bad. “If you want to survive, you have no choice but to trust me. Besides, it’s my turn to take one for the team.”
He worked his jaw before giving me a tight nod.
“Wait until the fight starts, then sprint around the field. Do not approach or return for me, no matter what you see or hear. Ja, I’ll be injured.” Gravely so. “That’s a given, but I have a plan. I’ll catch up with you as soon as I can.”
A pause. Then, “Olyssa,” he all but pleaded. “I don’t want you harmed.”
Again, my heart stirred. I ignored it. He cares for the ingredient, not me.
“You might not be my subject, Taron, but you’ll do what I say today or you’ll die. So be a good boy and let me go earn myself a second teacup.” I didn’t want to hear anything else from him. I headed down the hill.