Chapter Seventy-Nine
FUCK
My heart jolts as Minea screeches and careens around the balcony to hover just behind Varic. His pointed tail swipes through the air above the railing and nearly clips the Emperor’s ear as he dares to glare at the emerald eyes of an apparently irate Dragon.
Magic burns in my veins, searing as it pulses out and into my muscles, preparing to protect my heart living outside my body—the sorcerer with the impossibly bright brown eyes which remain pinned on mine, communicating every bit of emotion trapped inside him.
‘Don’t,’ he mouths, as a wave of caution and calm rolls from him. Apparently forcing himself to feel each one in order to share them with me.
Though he should know better than to try to keep me from saving him.
I take one cautious step closer, needing to do anything I can to lessen his distress as he’s pressed against the railing, hundreds of feet above the same ground where Hendry met his death.
And while I cannot guess at this fucker’s intentions, I will not allow him to take Varic from me. No matter how weak my magic.
Cirrin and Fray burst through the doors behind the Emperor’s Guards and rush to my side.
“What in the fuck is going on?” Fray whispers with his eyes fixed on the Emperor.
“His Majesty caught us embracing after Varic ensured I was safely on the balcony.”
Cirrin and Fray each huff out a breath as they sneer at our erratic leader.
“You.” The Emperor points a finger in Varic’s face as Raki leers from the same shoulder. “Leave us.”
My magic bursts forth, spiraling through the Emperor’s wards, forcing him to feel a sense of jubilation and excitement, confusing his fury enough to keep him from acting even more irrationally.
Varic leans against the strength of His Majesty’s magic. “No. I made the mistake of leaving her once, and I will not do so again. I will remain with her in my line of sight at all times.”
A guttural growl tears from the Emperor as he storms forward, and Raki flies higher to peer down over Varic.
I cannot allow this. His Majesty is only a pace, or so, away from him when my magic throttles His Majesty with the waves of exhilaration I felt only moments before this.
However, each emotion bursts from me far weaker than I had experienced, despite barely using any of my power.
His Majesty pauses, and I hope my interference was enough until he huffs and takes one more step to advance on Varic.
My heart slams against my ribs as Cirrin’s healing courses through my body, helping the organ to pound less forcefully as silent screams claw at my vocal cords.
Panic threatens to drag me under when a tingle of energy thrums within each of my palms, building and itching.
A familiar sensation that seems to be summoned in times of distress when I would otherwise feel powerless.
Varic catches my eye before glaring at the sorcerer looming before him, forcing his spine to arch over the marble.
The pounding of my pulse drowns out all other sound as rage consumes my being, increasing the energy sparking in my fingers.
Purple mist rolls over the balcony to wrap around His Majesty, restraining him in place as Malin runs to us. I glance at the Emperor’s Guards and feel grateful when it seems Danor cannot sense the unsanctioned magic stirring in my palms and fingers.
“Can you sense my force magic?” I ask, turning toward Malin.
“What? Why—” he begins, only to be cut off by the telepathic voice of a Dragon.
“I am going to project everything I say to the Emperor into your minds as well,” Minea says, rising in the air while looming forward, stretching his emerald neck as he sneers down over our captor.
A shudder rolls through my body as the enormous green Dragon leans in with an expression of palpable malice—eliciting terror despite the threat being directed at our enemy.
I turn as Lars drops from Dranea’s side behind us with a grunt, becoming a bright red streak to speed over and join us. He quickly glances from Malin, whose cheeks wobble, to flit his gaze over the details of all that’s unfolding before us.
“What the fuck did I just stumble into?” Lars asks under his breath, while Dranea and Minea seem to share a message, glancing at each other pointedly before Dranea takes off in a wide arc, splitting the air with her screech.
“The Emperor is posturing to remind Varic of who is in control of her.” Malin nods toward me while he continues to entrap the Emperor with his magic in the form of bright purple ropes around the ruler’s limbs, only releasing some of the tension when Minea’s giant green chest connects with Varic’s shoulders, forcing him and His Majesty to stumble back toward us.
“Go to her,” Minea commands. “I will make sure nothing happens to any of you. And should the Emperor try anything, I am feeling rather peckish.”
Fear courses through my veins, for if Minea makes good on his threat, he would ensure the Dragons reign over the land.
Bloodshed. Devastation. War. My mentor’s words resound in my mind. A warning for what our world could become, because of what it once was.
Varic’s expression shifts from surprise to satisfaction as his chest expands with a deep intake of breath. My heart squeezes tighter the closer he moves toward me, with relief settling in my stomach the farther he moves from the railing.
Lars moves back a step, allowing his leader to take his rightful place on my left as the magnet that is Varic draws my hand closer to his, with all hesitation having been obliterated between us.
I restrain nothing with the Emperor facing the opposite direction, while I fucking dare one of his Guards to say anything about it.
Varic must be experiencing the same burst of boldness as he grabs hold of my hand faster than I’ve known him to move. Tears well along my lash line when he squeezes all four times, claiming me, reminding me he’s here, and he’s okay.
His thumb swipes over my palm, rubbing the impressions where my nails dug into my flesh without my having noticed. He stalls and presses into the evidence.
“Tasch.” His tone is laced with concern when he sends the cooling sensation of his healing coursing from his hand.
Danor turns and narrows his eyes at Varic, and my pulse pounds with the fear he might say something, when Minea’s emerald talons curve around the railing, drawing our collective attention as he hovers above it.
The flapping of Dragon wings grows louder—sounding like more than just Minea’s—and my jaw drops as each of my Guards’ blood-bound Dragons rise from below the balcony until they stay eye level with the Emperor.
Powerful wings expertly pump the air as each Dragon drifts to the side. Their lethal gazes fix on His Majesty as they spread out and surround the balcony, with Sutrea and Brea taking one side, and Lucrea and Dranea taking the opposite.
“Kneel before us, Emperor Aldritch,” Minea commands. “Prove your fealty to the Dragons.”
His Majesty glances back at his Guards, whose own Dragons remain noticeably absent, before rolling his eyes skyward as he turns to face Minea.
My chest constricts with this act of disrespect he shows toward the five beasts capable of dousing him in a lake of flames as he slowly takes a knee before them.
“It seems you have forgotten your place, Emperor,” Minea begins.
“So allow me to remind you how your role, dictated by the accords created by our ancestor in honor of yours, is not inherent. As it seems you have forgotten the caveats which would void the agreement, such as harming a sorcerer blood-bound to a Dragon.”
Varic squeezes my hand as we collectively learn our government can be nullified should the Emperor harm him, or any of my Guards. A caveat which does not protect me the same, as the only beings I am blood-bonded with are the sorcerers who have vowed to guard my life.
Otherwise, His Majesty’s reign would end were I to disclose any aspect of his treatment.
Pick a day, a season, or a year, and I can easily provide you an example, for you might choose from a plethora of experiences I have endured by his hand.
I can recount the exact trauma which occurred at any point with startling accuracy, for my mind forgets nothing when it comes to his cruelty.
“Well, that’s fucked.” Fray sighs. “Now we just need to get Tasch to blood-bond with a Dragon.”
Varic stares at his own blood-bound beast. “Agreed.”
Lars shifts where he stands. “This is how we save her from him.”
“No,” Malin begins. “Because if this were a viable option, the Dragons would have already called for her to blood-bond with one of them.”
Varic turns to face Malin with a squeeze of my hand. “You think they’re aware of how he treats her?”
“They know more than we can ever fathom.” Malin’s voice is assured as he stares forward.
What he says is true. The Dragon’s neural network is something we can only imagine, without any way to ever truly understand it.
Minea’s voice booms in our minds, and we each lift our gaze to give him our full attention. “When our Elders deem a magical being worthy of bonding with one of our kind in a blood-bonding ceremony, we mean the words, promising the bond is ‘til death.”
The Emperor sways where he crouches on one knee, being the only sorcerer blood-bound to a Dragon without approval from the Elders. The only one they would never deem worthy. Who was only honored with the opportunity to blood-bond with Kresmea through the privilege of his ancestry.
A sly smile works its way up one side of my face, because this same clause which protects my Guards does not apply to the Emperor. Then my face falls just as quickly, because it does not matter, since we can never bring about the bloodshed removing him would result in.
Lars leans in to whisper, “If only this meant harm to the Emperor would not result in the Dragons’ reign.” I solemnly nod with the rest of my Guards.