Chapter 22 #2
Intense blue eyes bore into me as the dragon speaks.
“Are you too far in your mind that you did not listen? We do not erase. We do not break. We maintain balance. There is nothing I can balance against your curse. Curses are not intended to have balance. They are born of outcomes—you become its victim or you break it.”
Mikael removes a glove and slices his hand before I can speak again.
The dragon whips its head in his direction, nostrils flaring at Mikael’s grip on the scale. Drops of blood hit the ground, the crimson liquid splattering against the ice and rocks.
“My mate is owed the truth. If that means I must exchange one chain for another, so be it. It is worth the cost, to be able to tell her what happened and the anguish I’ve been chained to these past two hundred years.” Mikael holds out the bloody scale toward the dragon.
The dragon’s pale tongue flicks forward and drags the reddened piece back into its mouth. “It is done.”
The air around us wavers, thick with the tang of iron, and there’s a wrongness to the magic weaving through it. Mikael starts clawing at his chest beneath his tunic, the motion becoming rougher, more frantic. He bellows as he drops to his knees, palms slamming against the ground, dry heaving.
“I have forgotten how my mark sears the flesh. It has been close to a millennium since the last human bore it,” the dragon observes Mikael with disinterest. “When you are through, I still require your truths.”
For all my talk of wanting Mikael gone, I step toward him to help, but a barbed tail whips out to stop me. “No. He must endure this alone.”
Mikael frantically struggles out of his cloak, tearing off his tunic, grabbing what snow and ice he can find to press against his red skin.
Three gashes spread from his collarbone, carving out his skin in diagonal lines across his chest. It’s like the dragon’s talons gripped him around the neck and shoulder, then shredded his skin. I stare wide eyed as white iridescent scales start to seal his jagged wounds.
I audibly gasp when heat and pain slam into me, knocking the air from my lungs.
I stagger back, clutching at my chest, panting.
Mikael’s head snaps in my direction, and as quickly as the pain flared, it’s gone.
He’s protecting me again. For one heartbeat, I could feel his pain, feel the foreign will clawing its way into his soul through our bond.
“Ah…” The dragon’s indifferent gaze slides to me. “I was unsure, but took the risk. Even frayed bonds carry power when they are woven so deeply between two beings. The leash was not meant for you, girl, but magic often follows a path already laid. Not only will he heed my will; so too will you.”
“That wasn’t part of your bargain.” I glare at the dragon.
“I promised the leash would change hands. No promise was made for who else the magic might claim if such a path existed,” the dragon responds.
Mikael stands, a pained expression lingering as he speaks through gritted teeth. “I didn’t betray Bryn of my own accord.”
What?
Unable to control my reaction, my mouth falls open.
The dragon wouldn’t accept a lie. Its eyes glow brighter, scales shimmering as it smiles wider.
“More,” it demands of Mikael, just as it had to me.
“I was compelled, a vampiric mind control magic, by King Ignatus to reveal anything that would help us win the war. He found out about my relationship with Bryn and exploited it. I would never have willingly betrayed my mate.” Mikael doesn’t try to hide the tears streaming down his face.
“He tried to compel me to forget her as well, but our bond wouldn’t allow it.
” His chest heaves, and he takes a shuddering breath.
Every word is a punch to the gut, knocking me off kilter. Destroying every reason I have to hold onto my hatred.
No. No. No. It can’t be true.
If it’s true, how do I move forward from here?
Take back all of the emotion and pain that fueled me for the last two hundred years?
But the dragon demands truth. It won’t accept lies.
Mikael’s truth settles, heavy and sticky, leaving me to wade through every moment in our past.
And every look and touch since he came crashing back in.
He was forced to give up the information against his will. How could I ever have thought he’d done it willingly? But I had known nothing of this binding—or compulsion—that King Ignatus placed over him. It is not a known magic.
The dragon’s roar echoes around the cavern, and the resulting vibrations shake the walls and ground.
I grip Mikael’s hand and look up as the dragon exits the tunnel, its massive frame passing over us.
It stretches its wings and crouches, leaning its head back, eyes to the hole in the ceiling as if it’s about to take off.
Did we fail? What about the part of my soul that it keeps?
“Did we not give you what you want?” I shout, the words returning to me after a long pause.
My breath hitches when the dragon leans down, its snout coming within inches of my body, and puffs out a breath from its nostrils. “Your bond holds power. Do you feel it, Brynnrieal Salinthor of Eidrfall?”
A searing pain ignites along my side. My eyes slam shut as I scream and keel over. My fingers grasp at the fabric against my ribs, twisting and pulling as I try to rip it off.
“Bryn!” Mikael pulls me against his chest, holding me as I thrash from what feels like thousands of daggers assaulting my skin.