Chapter 45 #2
“Sit down!” He surged upright, eyes closing for a breath as he fought for control.
Tears carved hot tracks down my cheeks. The man before me felt foreign; armor sealed tight, the warmth I knew locked away.
“You cannot make me.” The words tore free, and my hand pressed against my stomach without thought.
His gaze dropped to the spread of my fingers, then rose again. Guarded. Withdrawn. Smothered behind a fortress wall he built long ago. “No. I cannot force you to do anything. But I once believed you would choose to listen. War is no place for passion. For feelings.”
For me.
He didn’t say it. But he did not need to.
“If you insist on risking your life,” his eyes lingered on my belly, pain threading through frustration, “then take Greaves with you.”
He shoved his chair aside. Wood scraped stone.
“Kal.” Greaves caught his arm. “My duty is to protect you!”
Kallias glanced over his shoulder, and his glare pinned me where I stood. “Then protect my heart.”
And he left.
No goodbye. No promise to meet me later. The air seemed stripped of oxygen. Fractures pierced and splintered through my chest.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. We fought too hard for this love. We didn’t surrender everything comfortable and familiar only for us to fracture. No—we didn’t claw through blood and flame, trade peace for horror, to arrive here.
Dragonfire, he once called me.
And I refused to sit by and watch. Fire did not stay idle while steel bore every blow. But he was the strong soldier who’d always worn that armor. Could he ever share that burden? Could he let me carry even a sliver?
Greaves hovered at the threshold, torn.
“Go,” I choked, waving him off. “He tolerates his guard more than his wife.”
His arms crossed. “I don’t obey him because he is the king. I obey him because he is my friend. And because he knows what he’s doing.”
“And I’m just a foolish princess who knows nothing.”
His blank expression was condemning enough.
I collapsed back into my chair and covered my face. The wood beneath my palms felt rough. Was this the cost of loving a man who had already suffered these lessons?
“I’m sorry you witnessed that,” I murmured, the words muffled by my hands.
“I cannot imagine what you mean.” Fallione sipped his tea, porcelain clinking. He was a true advisor, a valuable piece of our court. He knew his place and how to help. Without him, this would’ve been so much harder.
I let him pretend he hadn’t just witnessed an argument between his king and queen, but Marie? She had to have heard us, at least some of it. But she lingered in the kitchen, perhaps too fearful of invoking my wrath.
“I am not angry with him,” I said, trying to coax her back. “He is King. He understands war far better than I.”
Which meant I should trust him and not venture into homes like this that linked the Heart to the surface. Surely her entrance to the hidden city was barred shut. Still, I had guards at the door—and now Greaves—to keep me safe.
“He has been at it nearly as long as you’ve been alive,” Fallione said with a wry smile. “He knows his tactics. And he’s right, of course. I should’ve known better than to bring you out in the open so soon.”
“Do not change sides now.” A brittle laugh escaped me as I stirred tea gone cold.
Marie never brought Kallias his cup.
I turned toward the shadowed hall. “Marie?” No answer. The house felt wrong. Too still.
When she didn’t respond, I rose. Crossed the threshold. “The king has left. He won’t need”–
Blood pumped onto the floor in violent gushes, each pulse thick and dark against the pale stone. It spread in hot sheets, metallic scent flooding the air. Her head bent back at a grotesque angle, throat torn open, skin split wide to reveal glistening muscle and bone.
My hand flew to my mouth.
Fingers clamped down on my arm.
I screamed and dove for the dagger strapped beneath my dress, silk tangling around my wrist. Fallione slammed into me with crushing force, shoving his body between mine and the Velli. My spine struck the wall. Stone bit through fabric. My heart battered against my ribs.
Steel flashed.
His head tore free from his shoulders.
The sound was wet. Final.
Time slowed to a crawl.
White hair lifted into the air as if caught in a breeze that did not exist. Blood erupted in a scalding arc, droplets striking my cheek, my lips. Where Fallione had been, Egath stood grinning, teeth slick with red.
A dragon’s roar shattered the mountain.
The walls trembled. Dust sifted from the ceiling.
I lurched toward the receiving room, clutching the corner of the wall for balance. Fallione’s headless body crashed into me from behind. The weight knocked me flat. Heat soaked through my back, thick and sticky.
Greaves vaulted the table in a blur of steel and fury just as sunlight vanished from the doorway.
A massive green paw shot inward.
It caught him midair.
His body jerked, ripped backward through the door as if he weighed nothing. Tsunami’s golden eye filled the opening, blazing with molten rage.
Hands seized my ankles.
I kicked wildly, heel connecting with bone. Greaves’ dagger skidded across the floor. I lunged and caught the hilt. Leather bit into my palm.
“Now!” Egath barked.
My back dragged through Fallione’s blood. It coated my shoulders, slid into my hair. My thrashing sent his severed head rolling, white strands streaked crimson.
Tsunami screamed again. The sound ripped through my skull, high and furious.
Egath flinched but did not release me. He hauled me around the corner, boots slipping on the slick stone.
Tallon waited.
He smiled.
I twisted with a snarl and drove my blade through his boot, punching through leather into flesh.
He screamed, then slammed his other boot into my temple.
Stars exploded across my vision.
My body rolled with the blow. Pain shot through my head and down my neck in a blinding wave. I clutched my skull, gasping, wrenching away from him.
“That dragon will bring the mountain down!” Egath shouted, dragging me along the floor. My shoulders scraped stone. Blood streaked beneath me.
Pebbles rained from above. The Andeluith groaned, trembling under Tsunami’s fury.
Tallon snatched a canteen from his belt and tipped it back. His throat worked as he chugged.
That canteen.
Recognition flickered through the haze. I had seen it before. Metal dented along one side. A dark leather strap.
He wiped his lips with his sleeve and limped toward the doorway to face Tsunami.
“Kill him!” I screamed, agony pounding behind my eyes.
Egath’s palm crushed over my mouth. His knee drove into my chest, forcing the air from my lungs in a violent rush. “Hush now, Nienna.” He pinned my wrists above my head, weight grinding me into the stone. His gaze fixed on Tallon with something close to reverence.
Tsunami went silent.
Not the tense quiet before attack.
Something worse.
Cold dread wrapped around my throat. No, they couldn’t control my dragons. Not Tsunami. She bowed to no one.
I thrashed, nails tearing into Egath’s skin. Blood welled beneath my fingers. He swore and pressed harder, distracted by whatever unfolded beyond the doorway.
Then she wailed.
The sound was not fury. Not dominance. Not outrage.
It was agony.
Raw. Shattered.
He was hurting her.
I didn’t understand how, but Tallon was breaking Tsunami.
Egath let out a breathless laugh as the bastard prince staggered back to us, face pale, sweat slicking his brow.
“Good job. Let’s move.” The Velli hauled me upright with brutal strength and slung me over his shoulder. Blood rushed to my head. “Be quick about it. They’ll track that foot.”
“It scorching hurts!” Tallon snarled, limping.
My stomach lurched as the world tilted and spun. Stone blurred. Walls smeared into shadow. The air felt thick, warped, as if we moved beneath deep water while the world flowed above us.
I screamed into Egath’s back, nails slashing, clawing for purchase. My teeth snapped at cloth and skin. I writhed and thrashed with everything I had.
His grip did not falter.
Iron bands couldn’t have held tighter.
Hope slipped through my fingers like blood across stone.
Tallon captured me.