Chapter 13 #2
I swung into Kaelith’s saddle, her wings stretching open as the others did the same. The wind picked up as we lifted from the cliffs, diving down toward the shore.
But just as we crested the ridge above the beach—
A shriek tore through the sky above me.
High. Piercing. Inhuman.
Kaelith snarled instantly, her body twisting in midair to shield me as a dark shape blurred through the clouds above. Another shriek followed, and then—
More wings.
Too many.
Black dragons.
Ambush.
“Incoming!” I shouted, drawing my blade as shadows fell from the clouds like a murder of crows.
The sky shattered into chaos.
Screams tore from the clouds, and the Blood Fae descended like shadows dipped in oil and venom.
Their wings, some leathery, others feathered, corrupted and wrong, beat the air into a frenzy.
Magic lit up the sky in flashes—fire, shadow, frost. Our dragons answered in kind, roaring, snapping, spiraling into the fray with fury in their bones.
Kaelith moved like a storm, elegant and ruthless, her violet scales streaking across the sky as we dove, twisted, struck.
Below, Cordelle and Ferrula fought back-to-back, their dragons ducking and weaving between the cliffs and crashing waves.
Naia screamed a warning as a Blood Fae hurled a spear of ice at her flank, but Riven intercepted it with a flash of blinding flame.
And then I saw her.
Above us. Silent.
A female figure cloaked in black steel and crimson-tinted leathers, riding a dragon so dark it seemed carved from shadow itself.
Her helm gleamed with jagged onyx, her hair braided back in a warrior’s crown.
The black dragon beneath her was massive, sleek, fast, dangerous, but still dwarfed by Kaelith’s size.
She lifted a single hand.
Lightning crackled from her palm, bright and sizzling, arcing not toward me, but to my left.
Zander.
He banked just in time as the bolt missed by inches, Dark Fire erupting from his hand in retaliation.
The spell roared toward her, but she moved like a wraith, conjuring a shield midair, its surface rippling with power.
She absorbed the blast, banked hard, and turned her dragon straight back toward me.
She didn’t speak. Didn’t smirk.
She didn’t have to.
Because I could feel it.
That magic. That power. It pulsed in the air like a second heartbeat, one that mirrored mine.
Seraveth. I breathed the name into my thoughts.
Yes, Kaelith responded, her voice grim. The Blood King’s General.
She dove before I could answer, and we clashed midair, Kaelith’s wings flaring wide as she rolled beneath Seraveth’s dragon and came up sharp, our blade catching the edge of the black dragon’s armor.
Seraveth moved with brutal grace, her dragon an extension of her body, slicing through the air with cruel efficiency.
Lightning. Dark Fire. Blood magic. The sky rippled with it.
I dodged her second strike, but it sang through my bones, familiar. As if part of my own magic reached back toward her.
I called the lightning but she avoided my strike with ease, her face calm, unreadable beneath the helm. Still silent. Still focused.
Not to kill.
But to test.
Every blow I struck, she matched. It wasn’t just a fight, it was a reflection. Like I was staring into what I could become if I stopped trying to hold on to the light.
If I fell.
Kaelith growled beneath me. You cannot face her alone.
I don’t think I ever had a choice, I whispered back, locking eyes with the woman who was never meant to survive.
Seraveth grinned, just once.
And the real fight began.
The cyclone hit like a hammer made of wind and malice.
Seraveth didn’t raise her hand or chant a spell, she simply looked at me, and the sky answered. A spiral of wind tore into the clouds, condensed in her palm, and then she released it.
It slammed into Kaelith with a sound like shattering stone, a force that shouldn’t have reached us at this altitude. My dragon roared, twisting in the air to shield me with her wings, but the impact cracked through us both.
And then I heard it.
Snap.
The leather strap beneath me tore, and the world tilted. One heartbeat I was astride Kaelith, her violet scales beneath me, her voice screaming in my mind—
And the next—
Nothing.
I fell.
Kaelith’s scream ripped across the sky, wild and guttural, her wings folding as she dove after me. But the cyclone had thrown her off, and she spiraled, unable to reach me in time.
The wind roared past my ears, and in the blur of color and sky, I saw a face.
Perin.
His smug, satisfied smirk just before we left the landing platform.
Did he sabotage my saddle?
I didn’t have time to dwell.
Dark Fire lashed out of the sky like a whip, curling around me mid-fall. Not Kaelith’s—Hein’s. Zander’s dragon. The magic wrapped around my body, warm and searing, like a rope anchoring me to the sky itself.
But just as I began to slow, just as my fall almost stopped—
The tether snapped.
I was falling again.
The ocean met me like a wall of ice.
I crashed through the surface with a bone-rattling shock, the impact tearing a scream from my lungs I barely managed to choke down. My armor dragged me under immediately, the weight of it pulling me into the darkness.
I held my breath, pushing my limbs through the pressure, swimming, barely, until I touched sand. I crawled, lungs burning, until my head finally broke the surface.
I gasped, spitting saltwater, hair plastered to my face.
The beach stretched before me in a blurred haze, but above, high above, the battle was over.
The Blood Fae were retreating, their dragons vanishing into the clouds like black smoke curling back into the sky.
And Hein…
Hein was roaring.
A cry of fury and loss, echoing down to the shore like a storm’s final word.
The sand was cold against my soaked armor, but I was already pushing to my feet when the dragons began to descend.
Hein landed hard, wings flaring wide, tail lashing as he hit the ground in a rush of wind and gravel. But—
There was no one in the saddle.
“Where is he?!” I screamed, stumbling forward as Cordelle jumped from his mount, eyes wild.
He pointed upward.
I turned, and my breath caught.
Kaelith was descending from the clouds, wings stretched wide, talons full.
Clutched between her claws was Zander, his body limp, his cloak soaked and trailing like broken banners in the air.
Cordelle’s voice was shaky. “He—he was hit with a direct blast of lightning. Kaelith caught him before he went under the water.”
Kaelith landed with a grunt of effort, laying Zander gently onto the sand with all the reverence of a dragon laying down her own heart. We ran to him, the others close behind me—Jax, Riven, Ferrula, the lowborn squad at our heels.
And then I saw it.
The hole in his shoulder.
Charred. Jagged. Still smoking. It cut through armor, muscle, and bone, his uniform burned and clinging to the blackened flesh beneath. His chest rose in shallow, stuttering gasps, each one weaker than the last.
“He needs a healer,” I said, dropping to my knees, my hands hovering helplessly above the wound.
Remy approached slowly, his expression unreadable. “He won’t make it to one,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry, Ashlyn.”
I stared at him, uncomprehending. “What are you saying?” My voice broke. “That Zander will die, because he helped me?”
Remy didn’t answer.
He didn’t have to.
The silence that fell across the beach was heavy. Cordelle’s jaw trembled. Riven looked away. Even Ferrula, usually fierce and unshakable, looked shaken. Riven touched my shoulder in comfort.
And the lowborns…
They bowed their heads.
Cowards, I wanted to scream. Do something!
But Kaelith’s voice cut into me like a blade.
You must save the prince. He is essential to our survival.
I can’t heal others, I cried in my mind. Only myself. I don’t know how—
You will. You must. You are Stormborn. Your bloodline is powerful.
A tear slipped free and ran down my cheek, sliding over the ash-streaked skin beneath my eyes.
Zander lay still, his breathing fading, his blood staining the beach like spilled ink.
And somewhere deep inside me, a storm began to stir.
Kaelith, I begged through the bond, my voice barely holding together. Tell me how to save him. Please.
Her presence pressed tight against my thoughts, firm and unyielding.
With your blood, she said. It must be placed directly into the wound.
I recoiled. That’s—gross.
It is the only way. And there is a risk.
What kind of risk? I asked, already knowing it didn’t matter.
Her pause was brief, but heavy.
I cannot be sure. Your blood is old. Powerful. There are forces buried in you that even I do not fully understand.
That answer should’ve terrified me. It did. But Zander’s breathing was growing shallower by the second, his lips pale, his skin taking on the gray sheen of death.
I grabbed the dagger from my belt and pressed the edge to my palm.
“What are you doing?” Remy asked, stepping forward.
“Kaelith says my blood can heal him.” My voice cracked, but I didn’t stop. “It has something to do with him being a prince.”
I didn’t know if that last part was entirely true. Maybe it had nothing to do with royal blood. Maybe it was just Zander. But I didn’t have time to sort it out.
I clenched my jaw and sliced across my palm.
Warm blood welled to the surface, and I didn’t hesitate. I pressed my hand over the gaping wound in Zander’s shoulder, letting the blood run down into the burned, split flesh.
The effect was instant.
The wound hissed. The skin around it glowed faintly, then began to knit together, the charred edges fading to angry red, then pink. The hole sealed, muscle reforming beneath skin, until all that remained was a pale scar and a few last drops of blood.
I gasped as something brushed against my mind.
A flicker. A heartbeat. A spark.
It wasn’t Kaelith.
Then—
Gone.
Like a thread of silk slipping through my fingers.
But his chest rose deeper this time. Stronger.
And I knew, he was breathing easier.
Zander groaned, his body shifting against the sand as his eyes fluttered open. His gaze, dazed and unfocused at first, moved sluggishly, then found me.
His voice was rough, strained but laced with something sharp. “What… did you do, Ashe?”
Remy stood off to the side, arms crossed, his expression carefully guarded. “She gave you her blood,” he said flatly. “And it healed you.”
Zander inhaled deeply, his chest rising with strength that hadn’t been there minutes ago. “Are we talking a full blood bond?”
Remy shook his head. “Not unless you give her yours.” His eyes cut to me briefly, something unreadable behind them. “But I wouldn’t recommend it.”
I looked between them, confused and suddenly aware of how little I knew about what I’d just done. “What… is a blood bond?”
Cordelle stepped forward, brushing damp curls from his face, his voice cautious. “I read about it. But only full fae are supposed to be able to create one, or so the lore books say.”
“In theory,” Remy added, still watching Zander too closely.
“But what does it do?” I asked.
“It links two people,” Cordelle explained, his tone solemn now. “For life. If one dies… soon, so does the other. The Blood Fae use it on the hatchlings, which is why they die if we kill their dragons.”
I stared at my hand, still smeared with drying blood, and then down at Zander’s shoulder—no wound. No pain. Just… a connection thrumming faintly through the air, like the ghost of a heartbeat between us.
“I won’t be taking Zander’s blood,” I said firmly.
Zander pushed himself up slowly, muscles trembling from exertion. “Still,” he murmured, “can we have a minute?”
Remy’s jaw twitched.
But he didn’t argue.
He nodded once, sharp and stiff, and turned away with the others, herding them back toward the dragons.
Leaving Zander and me alone on the sand, the sea wind curling between us like breath.
Zander’s fingers brushed my cheek with a gentleness I didn’t expect from someone who’d just nearly died.
“Thank you for saving me,” he said, his voice still rough, but steadier now.
“You saved me first,” I replied, my throat tight. “So I suppose we’re even.”
He gave the faintest smile, something tired but real. I glanced past him, and sure enough, Remy stood a few paces away, arms crossed and eyes locked on us like he was calculating the fastest way to insert himself between us.
I looked back at Zander. “I felt something… when I healed you. Just for a moment. It was like you were… reaching for me.”
He sighed, rubbing his thumb across the back of my hand where his fingers had curled over mine.
“I have no idea what happened. One second, I was hit and in pain, then I was falling. I hit the water, and then Kaelith grabbed me. She pulled me out before I sank too deep.” He looked down, his expression shadowed. “I think I passed out after that.”
“I’m sure you did. The hole in your shoulder was the size of a cantaloupe.”
He turned his hand and gently threaded his fingers through mine, palm to palm. “If there are any side effects,” he said, voice low, “we’ll figure them out. Together.”
Before I could answer, he leaned forward. Slowly. Like he was giving me every chance to pull away.
I didn’t.
His lips brushed mine, warm, tentative, and grounding. Like he was tasting the edge of something dangerous and sacred all at once.
And right as the kiss deepened, a voice broke the moment.
“Fuck.” Remy’s growl cut through the air like a blade.
Zander didn’t pull away.
Not immediately.
But when he did, he turned just enough to smile over his shoulder at the seething man behind us.
I couldn’t help it, I smiled too. Just a little.
Even if I knew this storm was far from over.