Chapter 62
Chapter Sixty-Two
Kallias
Bloodlust thundered through my veins. Nienna’s arms wrapped around my neck, clutching me tight.
I grabbed her legs, hauling her against me, spear in hand.
No going back. I heard the shouts over the crackle of flames behind me.
In the time it would take to turn and face the Velli, they would be on us.
So I jumped.
Plate armor clanged against stone as I tumbled off the balcony. The heavy weight yanked me downward, pulling at a dizzying speed.
Before I slammed into another wall.
The impact drove the breath from my lungs. My boot slid along green scales until it caught a spike. Tsunami screeched, wings snapping out to coast over the city, where desperate screams tore through the night.
Nienna’s grip choked me. I dropped her legs, catching another spiked ridge along Tsunami’s back, wedging my body between them.
The only thing holding us was the tension between my limbs and the dragon’s good graces.
“Fly,” Nienna whispered, her words brushing my ear.
Tsunami’s chest swelled as she sucked in a deep breath. The roar she unleashed rattled her scales, vibrating with rage and defiance. She pumped her wings, climbing into the sky, pulling us away from the Velli palace.
Every wingbeat tested my strength. Our weight yanked on my arm and leg with each shift of the beast. My teeth ground together, focus pinned to my grip. One slip and we would plummet to our deaths.
In the distance, Gyrak and the other bulls filled the night with fire and vengeful roars.
Nienna’s nails dug into the nape of my neck, short claws biting into my skin. The sharp pain refocused me, tightening my hold on the spike.
The screams and roars faded. I hoped Tsunami would rest where we camped, not try to fly back to the Craggs in this state. A ripple of leathery wings assured me we weren’t alone. I could only hope it was Gyrak, asserting his dominance to force her down.
The dragon beneath us screeched in complaint, then twisted, dodging through the air.
A whimper escaped Nienna when her back crushed against the scales, every movement sending shockwaves of agony through her battered body.
“Land, you beast.” I hissed through gritted teeth.
Wings snapped out as if she understood. My weight pitched forward, hundreds of pounds dragging at my arms. My boot slipped, and Nienna’s nails tore deeper, pain driving them further into my skin.
Tsunami hit the ground, the impact rippling through her body and shaking us loose. Her spike slipped from my grasp, and we tumbled toward the earth. I gripped my spear, pressing it behind Nienna, locking her within the cage of my arms.
We landed on soft dirt in a roll. Plate armor slammed into my spine, and I grunted, muscles coiled, shielding Nienna’s head against my chest as momentum carried us forward.
My back collided with a tree, pain lancing along my vertebrae. I swallowed my curse, levering myself off her. Her skin was pale, breaths shallow, each one a fragile whisper. Eyes closed, she clung to consciousness by a thread.
“Ronan!” I yelled, scrambling upright. I left my spear on the ground and cradled her against me, jogging toward the lake clearing.
“You storming dropped her!” He seethed, rushing to my side as I lowered her. “I could have carried her!”
“If we waited for you to circle back, she’d be dead,” I snapped, running my hands over her limp body.
The transparent webbing they used to clothe her only hindered me. I tore it off; the fragile weave gave way without effort. My fingers pressed along her neck, joints, arms, and legs, checking for breaks.
“Her head.” I rolled her over, leaving Ronan to shield her face from the dirt.
I froze.
When Egath had been at her neck, he’d blocked my view. Our meeting had been far too brief—I hadn’t seen…
Ronan’s breath caught, horror radiating off him.
Her back was a bloody map of cuts, swollen beyond recognition. Skins peeled from muscle. The lacerations weren’t the worst—it was the dark bruising, a sickly mix of blue and yellow that churned my stomach.
Pushing past the lump in my throat, I pressed my hand to the base of her skull. Not gentle, precise. Efficient.
Down her spine, I felt each bone along her ribcage, fingers biting into torn flesh.
She gasped, wordless agony rattling her, and Tsunami lunged. Gyrak cut her off, tail whipping above our heads with a roar.
I shoved empathy aside and bottled my horror as I traced each vertebra. I needed to know she was whole. That she was well.
At her tailbone, she arched, and I nodded to Ronan. “Give me your jacket.”
No bones were broken.
I moved on to assessing her skin, her eyes still closed, cataloging every cut and bruise.
Dragons landed around us, shaking the earth.
I ignored them, gauging depth and danger.
Her back bore the worst of it, but a slice along her inner thigh ran the length of her leg, curling over her knee to the outside of her calf.
Deep in spots, but if I could bind it, it would hold long enough until we reached Sol. She would need stitches.
I spent the next few hours in tense focus, tossing out curt orders.
Boiled water—I didn’t care if there was a fire. We had no need for cover. Not anymore. They could burn the perimeter to ash, and I would still tend to Nienna first.
“Nakos, your shirt.”
I peeled the gossamer from her body, and using strips of the riders’ clothes, I bound the worst of her thigh and back, layering Erwin’s tunic over it all.
To their credit, Ronan and the others handled it well. Never having seen a battlefield, they didn’t hesitate when I demanded they strip, didn’t flinch at the sight of her naked, battered body.
It was part of war.
Something I was unfortunately far too experienced in.
With her head resting on her brother’s lap, wrapped in his jacket and a tunic that barely covered her thighs, I stood.
“Mount up.”
Ronan’s disbelieving expression whipped toward me. “You’re leaving her?”
“With you.” I crossed to where one of the riders had leaned my spear against a log. I examined the tip in the moonlight, twisting it, brushing off dirt. After striding across the ring of fallen logs, I approached the two bare Velli we had captured.
It would have been easy to avoid their stares, but I thrust my weapon through one man’s neck, watching his eyes flare wide in panic, his body thrashing against the ropes. With a quick saw, his head lolled free, dropping to the mud.
The other tried to flee. Muffled screams tore from his gag, feet kicking in a futile attempt to run. I planted a boot on his chest, thrusting the spear through his neck. The tip hit the muddy ground. I wrenched it aside, pulling it back up to check for nicks in the gold.
When I found none, I hummed in approval and turned to the riders.
Sean’s mouth hung open, nostrils flared, eyes wide with shock.
“You’re not on your dragon,” I growled.
He shook out his hands, one resting on the dagger at his belt before glancing at the Draconis prince.
“You’re going back,” Ronan stated.
I rolled my shoulders, stretching my neck before I studied Tsunami sitting next to the other dragons. “I have unfinished business.”
“She needs a healer.”
“Nienna didn’t survive the Velli’s torture to die on your lap.” I hefted my spear. “I’ll return before midday.”
“Tsunami won’t let you ride her,” he warned, glaring at me as I crossed to the temperamental beast.
She tilted her head, pupils locked on me. Lips curled in a hiss, tail tip tapping in agitation.
“Yes, she will,” I told her.
Fangs snapped in my face, wind from her movements tousling my grimy hair. Her eyes were nearly blocked by the proximity of those teeth. Ivory spikes parted; a low growl crawled up her throat in warning.
“For vengeance,” I whispered. “To burn.”
I couldn’t do this without her. This wasn’t something Elohios could fix with prayer. To end it, I needed the dragons—this dragon. And Nienna wasn’t there to command her.
Tsunami was wild, untamed. Yet she followed. A connection lingered between us, buried and unclaimed. I didn’t know why she chose me, but I knew in my heart she wouldn’t—couldn’t—harm me.
Scaled lips dropped over those lethal fangs. And when she craned her head, an eye the size of my chest hovered before me. Pupils narrowed to slits of anger. She stared at me—through me. I could almost feel it: a whisper brushing my thoughts, a foreign presence drifting like a breeze through memory.
With a huff, she straightened, slamming her paw in front of me.
My mouth quirked into a victorious smirk. I climbed her shoulder, settling between neck and spine, plate armor sliding against her hard scales. She shook like a wet dog; I dug my heels in, clinging like a flea.
Her tolerance of me was approval enough for the riders. Gyrak stalked around us, a strangled whine filling the air. Ronan’s thirst for revenge fed his dragon, but I needed the black beast to stay—to protect them.
“Up.” I nestled my spear between my lap and Tsunami’s neck. “Back to their nest.”
The sun was at our backs when we found the Velli army. I almost laughed at the neat rows of soldiers, leaving a convenient empty pocket in the center of the field.
Perfect. We would be surrounded. No matter which way the dragons threw fire, someone would burn.
I coaxed the dragon beneath me. “Land where they want us.”
She grumbled, banking over the soldiers. When her sides swelled with a vast intake of breath, I bit down on my complaint as dragonfire erupted from her maw, coating the ranks below.
Agonized screams tore through the air, arrows arcing skyward. A sharp shriek and a twitch of her wing marked an arrow piercing the webbing. She tucked them closer and dropped into the cleared circle, whirling on the soldiers.
I swung my leg over her back, sliding down her shoulder just before she took off again.
Communication with the other riders was impossible while on her.
I kept my pace deliberate, controlled, as her tail whipped above my head.
The whoosh of dragonfire heralded fresh screams, each one a punctuation of her fury.
Heavy bodies landed beside me, fearsome beasts forming a wall between me and the Velli army.
I strode toward the palace, each footstep unwavering. I would plow through them like an ox just to reach my destination. No more games or politics. No protocol could stay my hand. Not anymore.
This was no longer a fight between kingdoms, confined by the rules of war—it was personal. He had taken my wife.
And he would pay.
A single figure pulled free from the mass, dark hair clashing with pale skin. He staggered with every step, cocky and arrogant, even in the face of his doom.
I didn’t shout. Didn’t wait. Armor jangled with every step, a drumbeat of death—our collision as certain as sunrise.
“That’s far enough,” Tallon called, stopping ten paces away. His sword hung at his hip, but it was the canteen in his hand that jarred me.
I kept walking.
“Father, I said that’s close enough!”
I shook my head, laughter rough and short. “I was never your father.”
His brows lowered, concentration tightening. He lifted the canteen and drank deep.
The hairs on my neck pricked. Was it poison—some kind of vile concoction he meant to spray at me?
He swallowed, then grinned. “Kill him.”
Wails filled the air—not Velli screams of agony, but dragons shrieking in fury.
I twisted just enough to see a claw descending. I threw myself sideways, staggering as the golden paw slammed into the dirt where I had stood.
Orren’s hands braced against his dragon’s neck, face pale. “Run!”