Chapter 14
VANN
The wind claws at me, almost sharp enough to flay unprotected skin from bone. Each gust feels like it wants to tear me out of the dragon’s saddle, hurl me back into the ocean where I should have drowned, though we have long since crossed from the Enduar lands into elven territory.
Two days have passed, and I beg Endu not to allow the wedding to happen before I arrive.
When my heart races, I get lightheaded. A dangerous combination so far from a solid footing. My chest still doesn’t know how to be whole. Every beat of this foreign heart sounds like a hammer on an anvil, too loud, too raw, as though it might burst out of me again if I let my guard slip.
Seraph’s wings snap open wide as she crests another current, her golden scales scattering sunlight across the cloud banks.
Another day in a long string of days that have bled into each other after leaving Enduvida, only ending when both of us have had enough.
The light hurts my eyes. It’s too bright, too much.
I squeeze them shut, but the images don’t fade.
I see the witches’ cave, and my heart rises into the air like a star stolen from the heavens.
I feel the moment it was shoved back into me.
Heat scorches every nerve, even now. My blood feels too fast, my thoughts too sharp and too heavy all at once. This body doesn’t belong to me yet. I don’t know if it ever will again.
Seraph twists suddenly, dipping us toward a valley cut deep between two ridges. I grit my teeth and let her guide the way. If she wants to test me, she has the right. I am not her rider. That was Arlet.
As it has hundreds of times between the return of my life force and now, her name sears through me like a brand.
I don’t hear her voice. I don’t feel her touch.
But the Fuegorra hums in my chest, bright and seeking.
It looks for her, despite my mind knowing she is not at my side.
It doesn’t give me direction, not yet. Only a conviction that she is near. Too near, and untouchable.
I open my eyes, and there it is: the spine of mountains that border the Shvathemar’s forests. Black rock, jagged ridges, and pockets of ancient pine crowd the cliff sides. Not the coastal route, which I suspect she would have taken with that bastard Thorne. This is harder. Wilder. But quicker.
Seraph roars as we bank low. I marvel as her voice shakes loose stones from the cliffs. The sound echoes back at us, multiplied until it resonates like an army of dragons.
“Subtle,” I grumble to the beast, despite knowing she won’t hear me over the wind. She’s a fierce creature, relentless as her mistress.
I guide her toward a shadowed slope where stone caves yawn open like hungry mouths. She lands heavily, claws biting into the rock. Dust plumes rise around us, and I cough, my ribs rattling as though they remember being cracked open.
Sliding from the saddle is harder than I want to admit. My legs shake as soon as they touch the ground. My cleaver drags at my side. My muscles don’t know what to do with themselves anymore, not after days of riding and this newfound fire in their veins instead of ice.
Seraph lowers her head until one massive eye stares straight into me.
“Come now, I already told you what Mrath said. We have a plan. I need to find a way to contact your mistress in the palace so we can fulfill our part of the deal with the Sisterhood. There is no way I can hide you or explain away your presence. You have to stay here.” I try to reach out and stroke her scales, but she jerks her head away.
Her gaze is steady, unyielding, demanding.
“I will come back for you,” I say. “But now it is prudent to hide. I need to be swift, otherwise we risk losing everything.”
She huffs out a long, salty, pungent breath.
“I know I am a poor substitute for the real thing. Be patient, beast.”
Seraph growls.
Guilt claws at my chest. Leaving her alone could be dangerous.
What if some band of soldiers discovers her?
Arlet would be furious with me if the dragon were hurt, and I would only be handing her yet another reason to never forgive me.
I pushed her away and into this mess. The fact that I even have to leave Seraph here right now is my fault.
I am not the hero in this story, I am a condemned man seeking redemption. A selfish creature who has recently regained his vitality, now filled with a determination not to fuck everything up again.
“I know,” I murmur. To my surprise, I find myself reaching out and finding the ridge of her jaw.
Her scales are warm, almost hot. I don’t like dragons, not naturally like she did.
Seraph couldn’t care less about me, but we both know I am the only connection she has left to her rider.
“I know you want to go with me. To rip them apart and carry her away yourself.”
The dragon’s tail lashes, sending a few medium-sized stones spinning across the ground and over the edge.
“Fine. I concede. You would make the work quicker,” I confess, voice hoarse. “But if you fly over their spires, they’ll see you long before we’re ready. They’ll know. And we lose her.”
She huffs, smoke curling from her nostrils. I feel the heat lick my skin, a warning and a promise.
I lean my forehead against her scales, closing my eyes. “You’ll hear her laugh again. I swear it. I’ll bring her back to you. To us.”
The Fuegorra stirs violently. It calls louder than I have ever heard it. Seeking. Ever seeking.
For a moment, I can’t breathe. My knees buckle, and I grip a saddle strap to keep from falling. Not a vision, but something like an echo. Not words, not images. Just pressure, a sensation of being trapped, of air being stolen from lungs that aren’t mine.
My heart kicks harder. The echo vanishes.
“She’s alive,” I whisper, clenching my jaw. “Alive, and suffering.” I can’t help but think of everything I know about the elves. I don’t know what Arion could be doing to her right now, but I know it feels awful. I just…gods. I let her go with those beasts. I should’ve tried harder.
I walk to one of the rock outcroppings and lean against it, pressing my forehead into the stone to steady my breath. I miss the caves. I miss her. I hate the open landscape.
Seraph growls again. Louder, deep and furious, until the sound vibrates in my bones.
“I’ll end our suffering,” I promise. “But I need time.”
I step back, forcing my legs to steady. The dragon lowers herself, folding her wings close against her sides. I point to the cavern mouth for what feels like the hundredth time. “Stay here. Wait for me.”
My head returns to the plan that has been brewing and bubbling over the long, silent hours riding.
Get into the city. Find a way into the palace, get close to Arlet, plant the seed for Mrath, then take my mate, and light a signal so the beast can bring us home.
“When you see fire on the ramparts, come.”
She doesn’t move. Just stares, unblinking, her tail curling tight.
“Please,” I add. The word feels foreign in my mouth. “I know we still don’t know each other well, but I need your trust.”
At last, she lowers her head, settling into the cavern’s shadows. Her scales dim in the low light, gold turning to bronze, bronze to darkness.
I turn away before I can doubt myself. The mountains loom ahead, jagged and unwelcoming. Somewhere beyond them lie the elven forests, their spires protruding from ancient trees. And within those spires…her.
Every step I take away from the dragon feels heavier. My lungs burn with each breath, and my heart is pounding too fast, too uneven. My body isn’t ready for this, but I don’t care. I wasn’t meant to live half dead, wasn’t meant to let her go.
I press my hand against my sternum, over the stone that is relearning how to communicate with me. Arlet is far too distant to hear my thoughts. But one day…she should hear them. She should speak to me through her mind, as mates do.
“I’m coming,” I say, the words scraping my throat raw.
The mountains don’t answer. But I feel the vow settle like iron in my bones, heavier than my cleaver, heavier than the firestorm in my chest. Endu’s familiar touch seals my words.
And I forge on.