Chapter 35
Chapter Thirty-Five
Nienna
The Craggs never ceased to amaze me. Massive formations reaching skyward—higher than even the Spire. Their white-capped peaks vanished and reappeared, swallowed by low clouds.
The dragons were curious; their clicks and inquisitive croons echoed through the Pass of Thousands.
But everyone else’s eyes stayed fixed on the ground.
Kallias’ mouth drew into a sharp frown. Silvered brows lowered over a glacial glare, lost in thought. Fallione had said there was no sign of anyone traveling this way.
Ahead, the mountains broke into a stretch of hills that carved a valley between the behemoths. Behind us, a long stone wall stretched between two towers carved into the stone itself, much like Sol. The guards reported silence. No activity, no strangers—nothing.
Gyrak was a shadow above, coasting through the sky, scouting farther than any Radaanian soldier might have.
Ronan had strict orders not to cross into Vellos, but I shaded my eyes against the sun, tracking his approach. Part of me hoped he’d spotted the Velli army—ready to end it. The other part wished to visit Sol, hoping it would be as it had been the first time Kallias brought me there.
But it wouldn’t be.
Clay was missing. Tallon and Egath were at large. And Gayle? I couldn’t bear to face her, not knowing what her husband had suffered for my sake.
A gust hit like a wall, staggering my horse.
The wind tousled my husband’s peppered hair, and he straightened, glancing at me as if my mount’s stumble had shaken him free from thought.
His mouth tightened with worry; the guarded mask slipped for a heartbeat before he blinked it away.
He worried about his friend, about what this meant.
We would head toward Sol.
If they hadn’t returned to Vellos, they were still in Radaan. Unrestrained. Free to prey on the populace.
Tsunami trilled, tearing my attention back to the sky. She reveled in the wind, her long, jade wings stretched fully, tail thrashing as she searched for the next updraft to ride.
Gyrak dove, shrinking to a comet aimed at the earth. At the last second, he snapped his wings open with a thunderous crack. I flinched at the blast; horses shied, men shouted.
Ronan slid down his dragon’s shoulder while the beast bared his teeth at Kallias. Maw twisted in a snarl, the black hissed low before twisting toward me with a sniff. A grumbling purr rattled my bones as he stepped closer, lips closing over his fangs.
He reflected his rider: impatient with my husband, protective of me.
“The pass is empty,” Ronan called, hand resting on his dagger. Long legs devoured the ground in dark rider’s leathers. “No sign of a man, let alone an army.”
“How far did you fly?” I asked, pinning a panel of my dress as the wind tugged.
“The length of the pass.” He ran his tongue over his teeth, dipping his head to taunt me. “Vellos is overgrown.”
Kallias shifted, leather complaining as he gripped the reins, fingers curling as if he wanted to strangle my brother.
“I told you not to cross,” I bit out, jealousy knotting my stomach. He got to see more of that land than I ever would.
Because he disobeyed me.
He shrugged, adjusting goggles in his hair. “I took the liberty to be sure I wasn’t missing something. But it’s quiet. Normal animal sign. A pack of wolves hunting a herd of mountain goats—nothing that indicates Tallon made it through.”
A pang of loss cut through me, reverberating in bone and marrow. Clay and his goats.
“Send Orren north. Let him fly a day, then catch up with us. That way, we’ll be sure he didn’t head that direction.”
“He went south,” Kallias said, final. He pulled his stallion back, turning to his army. “Send your dragons where you will, but we ride to Sol.”
Greaves maneuvered around him to follow, leaving me alone with my brother.
“I’ll tell him,” Ronan muttered, turning on his heel.
“Wait!” I dismounted, gripping my horse’s reins as the wind tore at my clothes and whipped hair across my face. I wouldn’t let the beast spook.
He paused, a curious smile lifting the corner of his mouth. He might have been my little brother, but he stood taller than me, and that smirk—he thought he was better than me.
My hand flew, cracking against his cheek.
Gyrak shrieked as Ronan jerked, flight goggles flying across the grass. He whirled, dragon towering, neck blotting out the sun.
“You storming eel!” he hissed, palm on the blossoming mark. “I’m the Second Rider!”
“And I am Queen of Radaan, not just your sister,” I spat, voice low. “Father did not send you here to go rogue. You follow my orders. Unless you’d like to return to Draconia?”
He snarled, bumping his chest against mine. “You couldn’t make me.”
Gyrak whined deep in his throat, pupils blown wide, lips curled in a slight sneer—confused.
Ronan scoffed at him, then dropped his stormy gaze back to mine.
I smirked. “I think your dragon begs to differ.
“If you touch me again, you’ll regret it, sis. I don’t care who you married! You don’t have a dragon. And that means–”
The earth shook, and Ronan grabbed my arm instinctively—to steady me.
Tsunami had dropped from the sky, snaking her head low, growl vibrating through the ground. Her pupils narrowed, teeth clacking as a warning.
I crossed my arms, dipping my chin. “You were telling me I don’t have a dragon, dear brother?”
Gyrak pawed closer, snarling, trying to block her. She was having none of it. She advanced, stalking, as if herding them away.
“Fine—but if you follow him into a trap, all because he holds a soft spot for that bastard, I won’t be responsible,” he warned, breath hot on my cheek. “I will burn Radaan right alongside Vellos if something happens to you.”
“I feel so loved,” I muttered.
He pushed away from me and snatched his goggles from the ground. He pulled them over his eyes and launched onto Gyrak’s shoulder with effortless grace. The straps hung loose around his legs as the black lunged into the air, wingbeats slamming the tall grass flat beneath him.
Tsunami stepped closer, blocking out the sun as she moved over me. I grinned at her underbelly, resisting the urge to stroke her scales. She remained too wild—just as likely to tear off my arm as accept my touch.
“Thank you,” I whispered, still unsure if she really understood.
Her chest contracted. She dipped her head, twisting to stare, nostrils stretching as she inhaled.
Pupils flared, narrowing, lips smacking.
She let me walk free from beneath her, observing my hand as I held it out.
Thick eyelids rolled over golden irises.
She nuzzled my palm, the force batting the touch away.
I laughed, the sound dying as I spotted the deep gouges in her neck and chest. Superficial wounds. Gyrak would have needed far greater reason than her being a nuisance to truly hurt her—but she was here for something… I just didn’t know what.
A wildling, driven by base instincts. Neither bonded to me nor my husband. It had to be his scent on me that drew her. I’d been raised with her in the Nest back in Draconia. She had never paid such attention to me—until she followed Kallias through the whirlstorm.
But she didn’t bond him.
Was it because he was Radaanian? Could a dragon bond with him at all? Half-Draconis were capable of bonding the beasts, and Kallias shared the same human makeup as we did. Did Elohios block the bond? Could the magic behind his light force her to remain wild?
I frowned, considering the pain it would cause the dragon. To know the one meant for her stood right there, yet remained beyond reach.
It would’ve driven me mad. If I married Tallon and lived under the same roof as Kallias, I would never have survived. It was too much to ask of someone.
“Why are you here?” I asked—for the millionth time.
She huffed, stretching to sniff my hair. A soft croon rolled from her throat. She stared as if trying to answer.
If only I could hear her.
My tailbone screamed with every stride, thighs chafing raw despite the salve Kallias gave me. We rode through the Craggs’ foothills, skirting small towns and hamlets, heading south.
The hills pressed dread into my chest, tightening with each crest, expecting to see Tallon waiting. The only relief came from dragons soaring in lazy circles overhead. They were instructed to retreat at the first sign of him and keep to the ground until ordered otherwise.
Even Ronan.
As much as I loved my brother, he needed to learn that ruling demanded more than desire. Killing Tallon wasn’t his right. That belonged to Kallias—if he chose to do so.
I stole a glance at him beside me. His face was closed, intense, pinned to the road. I knew the worry he carried. He’d made it clear he would kill the bastard if he found him, but in private, I could hear the doubt—the silent wish that Tallon had fled over the mountains.
It wasn’t weakness, nor love. They hated each other.
Yet something lingered between them, a link of sorts.
Kallias would defend me without hesitation, slaying anyone who dared bring me harm, but this anticipation—it weighed heavier than any battlefield.
Stiff shoulders, spine rigid. He bore it alone. He wouldn’t share it with me.
That night, we slept under the stars. And the next.
Then Sol rose before us.
The Andeluith towered above her sisters.
Matalino and Gyrak separated themselves from our caravan, climbing toward the peak.
I doubted even they could reach it—the sun glaring off pristine white, air thin at such heights.
They banked away from the city. Matalino rolled and dove in a motion that had me pulling the reins to stop.
“Kallias.” The word escaped before the combined roar of bulls reverberated over us, and the dragons dropped from the sky.
“They’re here,” I whispered, squinting at a tiny projectile that had missed Matalino. Small from this distance, but I knew its meaning.
“Ballista,” Kallias groaned. “Circle west! Give the city space to breathe!” he shouted, halting beside me.
The army erupted into organized chaos. Shouts merged with shrill neighs, hoofbeats thundered, Kallias spinning his horse to shout orders into Fallione’s ear.
Dragons hovered overhead, claws just above soldiers’ heads, searching for a place to land beside me.
But Tsunami ignored Ronan, soaring high, circling like a bird, wide above the city.
I gripped my reins tight, horse prancing beneath me. The beasts couldn’t act until we located Tallon and devised a plan. Kallias pointed skyward, bellowing orders for specific battalions. His stallion fought the bit, eyes rolling, the surge of men pressing him forward.
Gyrak roared, then flared his wings. Soldiers scrambled, darting from his outstretched claws.
Ronan didn’t wait—he made a landing. One downbeat sent a man tumbling from his horse as the black dragon slammed into the ground.
Gyrak’s head snapped to the sky, found Matalino, then clicked deep in his throat, tracking the remaining dragons.
My brother slid down Gyrak’s flank, jogging to us. His gloved hand slapped my knee as he scanned the clouds. “Red banners hang from the city! Ballistas on every level—it’ll be tough to get close!”
“Ground the dragons!” I shouted, voice lost in the chaos. “No dragon flies over Sol until we know where my friend is!”
“We’ll have to burn them out!” Ronan’s jaw pressed firm.
Sol had withstood every siege, never once falling to the Velli. None could breach her. She stood as a fortress carved from granite and white marble. Even if we bathed her in dragonfire, expending every last drop of dragonoil, our men would still have to fight in her streets.
“Do as I say!”
Dyre screamed overhead, high-pitched, calling for guidance. Gyrak barked a roar, tail tucked close, waiting for Ronan.
“Nienna!” Kallias jerked toward me. “To the middle!” He kicked his horse, and I shoved my brother aside.
We surged through a sea of bodies, joining cavalry streams, settling a safe distance from Sol. The army was setting up a protective circle, king and queen at the center.
The scattered rocks at our feet shook as dragons struck the earth, their bellows drowning out the clash of steel and the cries of horses.
Kallias’ stallion slid back on its hocks as he yanked the reins, whirling to face the city. Fallione dropped to the ground, features pale, staring at the towering Andeluith.
Tallon had taken Sol—the impenetrable fortress.
But why?