Chapter 34
Chapter
Thirty-Four
Kaelith… what do we do? My voice trembled inside my own head as I pressed a hand against the cold iron bars that separated me from the gold and black-scaled dragon thrashing against his prison.
His wings slammed against the bars so hard the metal groaned like it might snap, but it never did.
None of the cages broke. None of them could.
Kaelith’s grief clawed at my insides until I could barely breathe.
Siergen will never forgive himself. He will believe it his fault for not tracking down his son, for not ending his suffering sooner.
He was too blinded by his own rage, his own grief, to even consider that Ria’s egg might have survived.
My throat closed. “He’ll think he failed them both.”
Yes, Kaelith hissed. And it will destroy him. More than any war ever could.
The air quaked with the black dragons’ cries, a sound so raw and primal it shredded what little calm I had left. The golden one shrieked until blood streaked its mouth, until its scales flickered between black and gold as though its very essence was tearing itself apart.
But it wasn’t just here.
Echoing cries drifted from the distance, carried on the wind from above.
I stiffened, lifting my gaze toward the ruined sky.
The dragons who had been bonded to the Blood Fae, the ones who had followed them into battle—they were screaming too.
Dying in the air, I realized with horror, their bonds severed, their bodies failing without the unnatural tether that had enslaved them for centuries.
“They’re all dying,” I whispered, my voice hollow.
The fae commander, Leyriam, lowered his head in grim acknowledgment.
“Yes. They cannot remain tethered to the Blood Fae with the chest sealed. Their chains are broken, but…” His gaze flickered toward the golden beast, then back to me.
His face was carved with sorrow. “…but they cannot regain their fertility, their natural bond with the world, without the blood of the Dark King himself.”
My stomach twisted. “Veralin’s blood.”
Leyriam nodded once. “It is the root of the curse, and the only balm strong enough to undo it.”
Beside me, Zander’s jaw clenched so hard I heard the grind of his teeth.
We’ve ended him, Kaelith’s voice rasped. But his poison remains. His blood is the only way to cleanse what he did.
I stared at the writhing dragons below, the sound of their suffering burning itself into my soul.
My knees almost buckled as the truth of it all assailed me.
“Veralin could have broken this bond,” I whispered, the words like ash on my tongue.
My hands curled into fists at my sides. “He could have freed them. All I had to do was keep my grandfather alive long enough…to force his compliance. I should have—”
A warm hand settled on my shoulder, grounding me. Zander’s voice was steady, though quiet with exhaustion. “Your grandfather was the most powerful fae alive, Ashe. His own people couldn’t rein him in. Do you honestly believe you could have forced him to free the black dragons?”
Tears blurred my vision; the golden-scaled dragon’s thrashing reduced to a smear of light and shadow. “We’ve only stood against him because of the dragons.”
Zander’s silence was answer enough.
My anger surged, raw and untamed, and I whirled on him.
“Because of Siergen. Don’t you see? No dragon, no human, no halfling would be alive if it weren’t for him.
He kept the treaty in place even when your father…
” My voice cracked, breaking like glass.
“…even when your father mistreated you. When Theron let himself be twisted by Inderia and Severeth. When the whole damned kingdom faltered.”
Kaelith’s grief throbbed inside me, her sorrow braided so tightly with mine that I could no longer separate where her pain ended and mine began.
My voice shook, louder, harsher. “He lost his mate to save his species. To save us. To save you. And now his son is dying in a cage because I didn’t stop this in time.” My breath hitched, and a sob tore through me. “There is no way this is okay. None.”
The flood of emotion broke me open, unstoppable. I couldn’t tell if it were my own grief or Kaelith’s searing through me, but it didn’t matter. We were so entwined, so wholly one, that the agony poured through both of us in equal measure—an endless, unrelenting tide.
Zander’s hand slipped from my shoulder, only to cup the side of my face. His thumb brushed just beneath my eye, catching a tear before it fell. His own were dangerously close, his gaze glassy, filled with the kind of grief that cracked open even the strongest of men.
“I’m sorry,” he said, the words hoarse, raw. “Ashlyn, I would do anything for Siergen. Anything. If there were even the smallest way to save those dragons, I would take it. I’d sacrifice anything, my power, my crown, even my life, if it meant undoing what Veralin did.”
I believed him. Gods, I believed him. It wasn’t just the steel in his voice, but the way his jaw trembled, the sheen of unshed tears in those storm-tossed eyes.
In so many ways, Zander was closer to Siergen than any human, halfling, or fae.
It wasn’t just the bond between riders and dragons—it was that Siergen had raised him when no one else had.
The sincerity written across Zander’s face was a mirror of the dragon who’d carried him through every trial, every betrayal, every loss.
My chest ached so fiercely it felt like my ribs might splinter. “You know what’s worse?” I asked, my voice shaking.
“What could be worse than this?” His thumb lingered against my cheek, his expression begging me not to break further.
I swallowed hard, meeting his gaze. “He won’t blame me. He’ll blame himself. Kaelith knows it. Hein knows it. So does every dragon on this island.”
Zander’s eyes shuttered, his hand falling away as he glanced down. He didn’t try to deny it—he couldn’t. The silence between us was a confirmation all its own.
Behind us, Leyriam’s voice cut through the roar of the dragons. “Your grandfather could not reverse the bond. Not without his daughter’s pendant.”
My head snapped toward him, confusion curdling into fresh dread. “What pendant?” I asked. My voice was harsher than I intended, tight with hope I didn’t dare feel.
Leyriam’s gaze was steady, grave. “The one he stole from your mother when he killed her. The one we stole from him and hid in the one place no full-blooded fae could enter.”
“Is there a way to save the dragons?” My voice came out desperate, almost raw.
Leyriam’s pale eyes flickered toward the cavern, toward the endless thrashing of wings and tortured roars. His expression was unreadable. “I am not sure,” he admitted slowly. “But… possibly.”
Before I could press him, Kaelith’s power flared so violently through our bond that my knees buckled. The force of it rattled my bones, making my vision swim.
Zander lunged forward, his arm circling my waist, keeping me upright. “Ashlyn—what is going on?” His voice panicked.
“Kaelith,” I whispered, clutching his tunic with shaking hands.
The air around the dragons shimmered like heat haze, their obsidian scales rippling as though reality itself bent around them.
Recognition struck me hard. I knew that spell.
I had seen Kaelith use it once before—on King Emlem Rayne, when she had locked him into stasis to prevent his death.
But this… this was magnitudes more powerful, a tidal wave of magic bearing down on the cavern.
Zander held me tighter as I gasped, the strain in my chest threatening to tear me apart.
“She needs me,” I managed, barely able to force the words past my lips.
I closed my eyes, surrendering, letting my Storm Fire bleed into her.
My magic surged down the tether, pouring into Kaelith like water rushing into a vessel already brimming to the edge.
The dragons stilled, one by one. Wings that had battered their cages fell limp. Claws that had raked metal slid down as their massive bodies collapsed to the stone. Their eyes, burning with pain, fluttered shut. Not dead. Not gone. Sleeping.
A hush fell over the cavern, heavy and absolute. No more roars. No more shrieks of agony. Just the sound of my ragged breathing as Zander cradled me against his chest, his heart hammering as wildly as mine.
The silence was so profound it was deafening.
Kaelith’s voice slipped into my mind, edged with exhaustion. The dragons are in stasis. Their bloodline remains intact. But this is only a pause, Ashlyn. You need to break their bond with the Blood Fae, or the corruption will return when they wake. They will die.
I swallowed hard, my hand still clutching Zander’s sleeve as if I needed his anchor to keep from drowning. I turned to Leyriam, the glow of his wards casting his features in a pale light. “If there is even a chance to save them, we have to try. Will you help us?”
The Light Fae commander’s gaze shifted, not to me, but to Zander.
His silver hair caught the torchlight as his expression hardened.
“I will,” he said at last, voice carrying the weight of oaths centuries old.
“But you must understand—” His eyes snapped back to mine.
“You risk more than just your own life, Rider. You risk that of your dragon. If the tether does not break cleanly, it could destroy her.”
Zander’s arm tightened around me, his jaw clenching as he stared between us. I felt the warning in him before he spoke, but my heart had already made the choice.