Chapter 61 #2
“Did you enjoy your bath?” Deimos stepped close again and braced one hand against the glass beside my head. He caged me without contact. Taller than me, his silver strands grazed my chest as he lifted a lock of my hair and drew it beneath his nose.
“Tallon objected.”
“As he would.” A quiet laugh rolled through him. “He is immature. Has the mind of a petulant child.”
“And the magic of a Fortune.”
His mouth curved with knowing amusement. “He tests his strength. Attempts to learn without humility. Ignorant. Foolish.” His gaze sharpened, pale eyes searching my face. “But that was not my question.”
“It was pleasurable.” My breaths stayed shallow, measured, careful to keep my breasts from brushing his body.
Moonlight deepened the burgundy sheen of his overcoat. Red shimmered across the fabric like dried wine caught in glass.
He stepped back, granting space as though he sensed my restraint.
“He will learn to care for his servants.” A subtle gesture indicated Egath, still sprawled in the chair, eyes tracking every movement between us.
“Time tempers even the most arrogant. When I was young, curbing the hunger for dominance proved difficult. Many Velli carry scars from my excess.”
The glass door opened with a muted scrape.
Cool air spilled inward. He guided me through without touching, letting the wind tug at loose wisps of hair and lift the thin fabric of my dress so it fluttered against my legs.
I didn’t care. My soul sang with the scarce freedom. My spirit strained toward the open sky.
The night pressed different here—drier, thinner. The land itself exhaled bitterness. Acrid smoke rode the wind, stinging my nostrils, reminding me where I stood.
Deimos followed to the balustrade, keeping close as I leaned over the stone.
Vellos stretched below in uneven veins of firelight.
Pits blazed along the streets, smoke curling upward in thick, greasy spirals.
Charred wood mingled with something fouler beneath.
No towering walls guarded the city, no gates marked its edges.
It unraveled into shacks and sagging roofs, hunger and grime.
Far beyond, darkness pooled into what might have been forest, swallowed as clouds rolled over the moon.
“Egath told me you craved the open sky, but I did not realize how much it would change you.”
My nails bit into the stone. I kept my gaze level, refusing to scour the sky like a desperate fool.
Come to me!
“I am still the same.” I arched slightly, lifting my face as if I were basking in the fresh air. The movement gave reason to track racing clouds without appearing frantic.
“You are Draconis. The Dragon’s Heart.” His voice hovered near my ear. “We have not welcomed one of your kind in many years. You are… unique.”
He stepped behind me. Fabric brushed the tender ridges along my back. A single finger traced from shoulder to waist, navigating welts and half-healed lacerations with deliberate care.
“I don’t know of any Draconis who visited Vellos.” I twisted when his touch drifted too low.
His hand settled at my hip, drawing me close until stone pressed hard against my spine. “It happened so long ago, it’s drenched in legend and myth. But I will find the truth in it.”
When had I grown accustomed to his teeth? His pale eyes—his sweep of silver hair? My heart hammered at his nearness, yet terror no longer hollowed me. Anticipation tangled there instead, coiling with calculation.
“I tell you the truth.” My words were steady, though doubt scraped inside my ribs.
He was Cruor. He wanted to test my blood, see if it could summon dragons at his command.
Could Velli magic latch onto Draconis power like a parasite?
Could he bypass Tallon entirely and keep me stored like a filled canteen, uncorked only when useful?
If he could—he wouldn’t need to put up with Tallon.
To him, it was worth the risk.
“There are things I suspect even you are ignorant of.” His free hand curved around my throat, tilting my head aside. My pulse skipped a beat, the first thrum of panic coursing through me.
“You are wise. Your parents taught you well.” His gaze fixed on the frantic beat beneath my skin. “But they sheltered you. Some things you could only learn from… experimentation.”
“If I could call the dragons, why would I wait? Wouldn’t I have done so by now?”
Because I didn’t know how.
Frustration flared hotter than fear. Nothing answered when I reached inward—no spark, no mechanism waiting to trigger. It felt like shouting into a well, hearing only my own echo return.
“You are na?ve, Dragon’s Heart.” Hips pressed into mine. Fingers dug into my waist as his mouth lowered to my neck. “Untested power. Untapped instinct. You never tried to wield it.”
His lips brushed my pulse, sighing at the frantic beat.
“I don’t take pleasure in controlling others.” Even if I could command the dragons, I wouldn’t. That bond belonged to their riders. I would not twist it like the Velli twisted their people.
“And that is why you will remain a caged pet rather than a queen.” His voice softened into something nearly tender before he sank to his knees.
I gasped, and the balustrade bit into my back as I recoiled.
His grip tightened at my hips, bruising pressure blooming beneath his hands. “Surely you didn’t think I would be so careless.” He lifted my knee with practiced ease.
No.
The protest died in my throat. Copper flooded my tongue as I bit down, air scarce against instinct to thrash. Panic threatened to fracture my composure.
“Don’t make me call Egath.” His breath ghosted over my thigh.
Please—Ronan! Gyrak!
My gaze snapped to the darkened room. Egath watched, green eyes intent, posture relaxed. Ready. Willing. A servant awaiting instruction. A tool.
I clutched the smooth stone, tilting my head back toward the sky. Tears stung, blurring the moon-drenched clouds.
They weren’t coming. Whatever Kallias believed, whatever hope I’d clung to, they didn’t hear me. I had no magic. I was a flightless hatchling, cared for and loved, but nothing more.
His mouth brushed sensitive skin.
My foot jerked.
A low chuckle vibrated against me. “Come, Egath, remind her to be still.”
His long body unfolded to full height, tilting his head with an expression threaded with anticipation rather than reluctance as he approached.
Could I throw myself over? Egath would catch me before I cleared the stone. Resistance would only feed cruelty. I had to pretend—play my part, the role that would protect me. A tortured whimper escaped me, one that could’ve been interpreted as pleasure.
Above us, clouds churned, driven fast by the rising wind. Moonlight struggled through their thick shapes. I fixed on them, on that blur of moisture. Such a small thing, but the rain it carried and the shade it provided blessed and broke nations.
I could almost pretend I didn’t feel the sting of a blade along my inner thigh—that I didn’t hear Egath’s slow approach… That the descending cloud was dragon-shaped.
A thunderclap split the night. Stone shuddered. Metal rang against marble.
I jerked, gasping as the sky ignited.
Not lightning.
Fire.
I threw myself sideways, and Deimos’ blade slid across my flesh. Heat and pain merged into one searing line. My shoulder struck the balcony hard enough to rattle teeth.
Kallias landed between us in a spray of embers, spear raised toward the palace.
Egath moved in a blur of pale skin and dark cloth, but my king—my husband—did not falter. With a flick of his wrist, he redirected Egath’s charge—and with a brutal thrust, his spear’s tip burst from Egath’s chest in a blood-wet gleam.
I shoved Deimos with my heel, scrambling backward as dragonfire bathed the sky in violent orange. Egath collapsed, lifeless, crumpling like a discarded rag.
Kallias seized Deimos by the hair, gauntlet tangling in silver strands. He wrenched him upright, face turned to the sky.
A torrent descended.
Heat detonated across the balcony. I crawled, palms scraping stone, eyes wide as flame consumed them.
Gyrak hovered above, wings beating thunder into the air.
Thick strands of oil stretched along his gaping maw, his fire pouring in an unbroken stream.
His earth-shattering roar drowned every scream.
Flesh blackened and split, melting from bone.
Pieces of charred meat fell from the Velli king’s body.
Kallias’ armor glowed white-hot, radiant as fresh-forged steel.
The dragon snapped jaws shut and banked, diving toward the city with a shriek that rattled glass.
What remained of Deimos sagged in Kallias’ grip. He hurled the charred heap over the rail without ceremony, then leapt through the dying flames to retrieve his spear.
Moments later he reached me, smoke curling from his armor.
“Up, my queen.” His voice cut clean through the chaos. “This is your rescue.”