Chapter 11
Draevyn
Draevyn’s heart thudded wildly in his chest as the guards poured into the throne room with their muskets raised. They quickly took their positions, lining the walls, blocking every exit.
That was where the guards had fled to? They ran to get the guns.
Yet still, Esmyra didn’t show an ounce of fear.
She stood at the center of it all, breath heaving as her focus moved from Elowynne to the men.
The moment the soldiers came in, her midnight hair turned wild and silver, tattoos pulsing like liquid light beneath her skin.
The blood had dried from the wound where Atlas’s bullet had grazed her, the skin surrounding it stitched back together.
How could that have happened? He knew velsinyte still affected gods, but was she somehow still set apart from others? Or was there something else at play here?
“Fire on my command!” Atlas barked, and suddenly every gun was aimed directly at Esmyra’s head.
Draevyn’s throat went dry.
“Hello, boys,” she cooed, stepping forward as they all shifted nervously on their feet.
She was taunting them. Cocky as ever, his Wildfire feared nothing.
But Esmyra didn’t know the entire castle’s guard had been armed with velsinyte since they’d last been to Lephyrin. Varis brought hundreds of pounds of it, immediately delivering it to the castle’s blacksmiths. Draevyn had only learned about it himself the prior morning.
He knew one shot to the heart was all that would be needed to take her away from him forever.
Elowynne scrambled away from her, pressing herself against the far wall, panting, as Atlas ran for her.
Draevyn’s attention moved back to the doorway where his eyes locked on his first mate among the guards. “Sam, don’t!” he begged. “The velsinyte will kill her!”
Something like pity flashed across Samwell’s eyes.
Esmyra looked in Draevyn’s direction then, the pain of betrayal still exuding from her haunting stare.
“Wildfire…” The word was a whisper, a plea on his lips. “Run.”
The guards hesitated for only a moment before Atlas roared, “Fire!”
“No!” The command erupted from Draevyn, but it was too late.
BANG. BANG. BANG. The first shots rang out, echoing from all sides of the throne room.
Water surged up from the marble floor in a violent spray, forming a barrier between her and the line of armed guards. The bullets struck the rushing tide and slowed, sinking uselessly into the liquid wall, but still, they forced their way through the magic.
Draevyn moved without thinking, reaching toward her, but panic seized him as Atlas reacted. His shadows snapped toward her in twisting tendrils, reaching to ensnare her ankles from behind.
Esmyra sensed it instantly and turned her hand toward his brother.
Fuck.
A stream of crackling lightning shot out, aiming for his chest. Atlas barely had time to lift his shield from the floor before her magic slammed into it, sending him flying back into a column with a sickening crack.
The sound made Draevyn’s stomach lurch, but Atlas was pushing himself off the ground almost instantly with Elowynne’s aide.
Esmyra’s gaze met Draevyn’s, her eyes flashing like the depths of a storming sea.
And then a single sharp crack split through the air—BANG.
She jerked back, a choked sound leaving her lips, and Draevyn’s entire world went still.
The air seized in his lungs as the bullet struck.
His stomach turned to stone. Blood bloomed across Esmyra’s side, dark against her skin as its glow sputtered out.
In the blink of an eye, Kaelypso no longer appeared before them but the image of his Wildfire.
It was as if she’d lost her power from the attack, now appearing mortal before them all.
Esmyra let out a gut-wrenching scream, and a group of guards charged.
Another shot rang out. She ducked, spinning low, but the bullet met its mark, tearing through her thigh.
Atlas leveled the smoking gun again, his expression cold. “Not so invincible now, are you?”
Rage snapped through Draevyn like wildfire. Before his brother could fire again, he moved. “Fuck!”
Esmyra was getting closer to the doors now, but she was limping.
She had to get out. He had to get her out before they found a way to kill her.
Draevyn ran for her as flames burst from his palms, sending heat lashing through the air to force the guards back.
Esmyra wavered on her feet as her hands pressed against the wounds. The moment her knees buckled, he dove for her, catching her before she could crumble to the ground. Her skin was hot beneath his touch, but he instantly knew it wasn’t from her usual power. It felt different. Fevered and unstable.
Esmyra looked up at him, her eyes dazed, her breath ragged. “What are you—”
“Helping you,” he cut her off, tightening his grip around her waist as he lifted her into his arms.
She stiffened, her pride warring with the obvious agony tearing through her body. “Put me down!”
Draevyn turned toward the doors, cradling her as she tried to shove out of his hold. “Over my dead fucking body.”
“That can be arranged,” she snapped, and he didn’t even bother hiding his grin.
He looked down at her, panting in his hold. Whether it was from anger or pain, he wasn’t sure. It may have been both.
“This changes nothing,” she said through her teeth.
He could tell she was trying to summon her power to use against him, but the velsinyte had drained her. “I know.”
Atlas’s voice cut through the madness. “Draevyn, you’re betraying your own godsdamn blood!”
He ignored him.
“I’ll get you as far as I can, and then you run. Do you understand? Fucking run. Velsinyte could be in every corner of this godsdamn city, Esmyra. And it’s clearly weakened you.”
Her lip curled back in disgust, but she didn’t say a word.
“Tell me you understand or I’m not letting you go,” he finished.
Regardless, he didn’t want to let her go.
Esmyra’s lips parted as she stared up at him, his arms and clothes soaked in her blood. “I understand.”
Draevyn turned his attention back to the door and took his first step toward it. “Good girl.” She scoffed and tried to shove out of his hold in response.
He then encased the two of them in a fiery vortex of protection as Atlas screamed in the distance, but it was drowned out by the roar of the flames. He knew his brother would never forgive him for this. A line was now drawn in the sand.
The truth was, Draevyn didn’t know whose side he would take if his hand was forced. All he knew for certain was that he refused to watch either of them die.
His breath came in ragged gasps, his heart hammering as he cradled the goddess in his arms. “Stay with me,” he whispered.
“Tits, you’re so dramatic. I’ll be… fine,” she retorted, still trying to writhe out of his grasp.
A smirk curved his lips. “There’s that Wildfire.”
The sound of armored footsteps echoed behind them, the guards coming closer as Atlas demanded they grab Esmyra at the door.
The moment he heard the command, Draevyn’s power poured out of him in a torrent of blazing heat. A wall of fire surged up from the floor to the ceiling, the flames swirling and roaring like a beast set loose.
“Drae!” Atlas roared.
His heart stuttered at his brother’s voice, knowing this must’ve felt like the ultimate betrayal. Esmyra had just killed their father—their king—and here he was, saving her life and helping her escape the consequences.
As soon as they were before the door, the flames pulsed, bending to his will. They twisted, forming a barrier that stretched across the doorway.
Draevyn carried Esmyra through the flames, the heat licking at their skin, but he never allowed it to touch her. Never would he burn her again. He walked them through the fire as though it were a mere illusion—every step a defiance to the world trying to tear them apart.
Every breath he took, every movement he made, was a promise to her. A vow that he wouldn’t disappoint her again.
They stepped just beyond the blaze’s reach on the other side of the doorway, and with shaking hands, he lowered her to the ground. His breath was ragged, but he was desperate to get the words out before it was too late.
Esmyra’s face was pale, her lips tinged with the sickly hue of blood loss. She stared up at him, her eyes filled with confusion, suspicion—hatred, even still. But there was something deeper there too, something tangled in the emotions that churned between them.
“Go,” he rasped, his voice low and urgent. His hands shook as he took her by the shoulders, his eyes searching her face, begging her. “Please. You have to leave the castle. Now.”
She blinked at him, her expression unreadable. “Why? Why are you helping me?” The words left her mouth bitterly. “After everything? It doesn’t make any sense.”
His hands trembled with the weight of his decision, but this was the only way.
“There’s a way out,” he said, his voice rough.
“I’ll hold them off. You need to get to the sea by the old docks at the edge of the castle grounds.
It’s the only way they won’t catch you. The tide’s high now.
If you get there, you can slip away… No one will know. ”
“Everyone will know. They just watched what you did.” Esmyra gestured to the fire blocking the doorway, separating them from the guards on the other side.
Her eyes narrowed, the suspicion still swirling in her gaze. “I don’t trust you.”
Draevyn flinched. “Well, I’m the only chance you’ve got. And if you stay here, you’ll die. All it may take is one of those bullets to shred your heart. I can’t—” His voice faltered.
Her silvery blue gaze lifted to his. “And if my heart has already been shredded?”
For a moment, Draevyn thought he took a velsinyte bullet to his own heart as he listened to her. The words were on the edge of his tongue—everything Syrena did and lied about to tear them apart. “Esmyra, that’s not—”
“Aim your guns, men! We can’t let her escape.” Atlas’s voice sounded as his shadows slipped between the flame’s wisps. “Draevyn, you better fucking move.”
Fuck. They were out of time.
Draevyn’s wild stare met the storm in hers. “Just go. I know I’ve lost your trust. I know I’ve lost everything. Just let me do right by you now. Please.”
Her lips parted at his confession.
For a long moment, they just stared at each other—two people bound by a history neither of them fully understood, their fates tangled and broken for at least a thousand years.
Esmyra’s spine straightened, and she gritted her teeth. “I’m serious. This changes nothing,” she spat, though he didn’t miss the tiny wobble of her lip.
“I know, Wildfire.” His throat tightened, praying to Irah to protect the goddess he once loved until she fled Lephyrin. “The guards will be after you. Don’t engage unless you must. At least until you heal.” He looked her up and down as she stood there in disbelief. “Give ‘em every hell, baby.”
And with that, Draevyn turned from her, stepping into the raging flames that separated them from his brother and soldiers. The men he’d served Lephyrin alongside. The men he’d fought and bled for. And the men he’d just betrayed for the woman he loved.
With a grim set to his jaw, he walked through the wall of fire, the familiar rush of power flaring around him like an old friend. Though, deep inside, he could feel the weight of every choice he’d made.
On the other side, Atlas stood at the center of the throne room, surrounded by soldiers. Their armor gleamed in the firelight, their swords drawn, every jaw set in a hard line.
The room was eerily silent, the tension thick as the smoke in the air.
Atlas’s eyes met his from halfway across the room. There was no love there. No recognition of kinship. It was as if the fire Draevyn put between them was only a fraction of what had already burned them apart.
“What the fuck have you done, Draevyn?”
It wasn’t the voice of his brother that reached him. It was the voice of Lephyrin’s new king.
The voice of a man set on revenge.