39. CHAPTER 39
Sorin
They always said if dragons flew to war…everything would burn.
They were right.
Myros wanted to paint me the villain, and I would give them one.
I was driven by ancient magic to fly across the sea.
Rensford had tried to stop me, but I was sky bound before he could even draw his sword. With King Mavros too weak to shift forms, the only ones who had any hope of catching me were Emrys, Valerian, or a member of the Shadowed Order.
And the order was too far away, still nestled safely in the Veil of Shadows.
Valerian had no hope of catching me. His shifted form was too small, his wings too compact. He didn’t have the stamina.
Emrys had held my tail for a distance, but even he was no match for the bond thrumming though my veins, drawing me toward Myros to claim my mate.
Greer had one last vision before I had taken flight—and it was up to me to put a stop to it. Before it was too late.
Aveline, standing before Kallias in front of the Myrosian throne. Her slight body adorned in a beaded white gown. Kallias in a matching white suit beside her. Their hands were clasped together as they performed the ceremony of joining from the old gods.
The ceremony that would join not only their lives but their magic.
Whatever power Aveline had running in her veins, the Ashbourne royals wanted it. Whether it was to further their own kingdom or protect them in the war to come—it didn’t matter. They would not use her and cast her aside as if she were merely chattel.
Kallias Ashbourne was not her destiny…the old gods made sure of that.
I needed to put a stop to the vision before it came to fruition. The sun had only just descended beyond the horizon in Greer’s vision, nightfall blanketing the lands as autumn swept in. As I soared toward Myros, the sun had already begun its descent in the sky.
The clock was ticking down.
I should have fed before leaving—to be at my full strength as I descended upon Myros. But there had been no time to spare.
I would sink my teeth into Kallias Ashbourne and drain the life from him with my fangs if he survived my flames. But I doubted he would.
Greer had shared one more vital piece of information with me. She had drawn me close, whispering into my ear as my eyes widened in surprise.
My fire could not burn my mate.
The gods bond made her immune to my flames, just as I could not drown in her tides. It didn’t matter whether we had accepted it or not.
I could feel the fire in my belly—in the back of my throat.
I was anxious to set sights on Myros and burn it to the fucking ground. They had been a thorn in our side—waging war against Gothryn for centuries. It was about time they paid the price.
The house of Blackwater would not be challenged. It would be a lesson learned in death.
Queen Dyata had tortured her, scarring her pale skin permanently and forcing her to wear her scars like armor. Kallias used her for his own gain, only finally taking her hand in marriage when his beloved mother agreed to it.
Coward.
And King Faris…he might not have hurt Aveline personally, but he hurt our kingdom plenty. He starved his own people while he feasted. He remained in his plush, comfortable castle while his citizens scoured the streets for their next meal and a bed to sleep in.
He was no king.
Even in my dragon form the curse in my side was raging, the wound having entirely re-opened in Aveline’s absence. It was as angry and infected as it had been before Aveline had ever stepped foot in Gothryn.
The reprieve, however short, had ensured my suffering began anew. It throbbed, shortening my every breath.
With the sea between us, it was no wonder.
A roar ripped from my throat as Majur came into view, the dockyards nestled below the cloud cover in the distance. I was thankful there was no storm for me to suffer through today. The clouds were thick enough to hide my descent until I was already upon them.
I would take them by surprise. There would be no time for them to gather their forces against me—to prepare their ballistae or their barbed spears.
I would burn this whole kingdom to the ground. The magic in my veins would allow for nothing less. Aveline was a bird in a cage of their making, but I was about to set her free.
Majur was bustling with townsfolk as the market came to a close for the day. The moment they saw the shadow of my ebony frame, they scattered.
But Majur was not the target of my ire; the castle was.
I banked right, turning toward the silver spires that reached into the sky as fire simmered in my blood. I wasn’t sure if Aveline was within the palace or not, but I would think Queen Dyata and Kallias would have wanted to keep her close.
Aveline was immune to my flames…but the royals were not.
I opened my mouth, tongue dropping as a ball of flame burst forth to hit the first spire. The flame was blindingly hot, the air rippling around it as the castle caught fire and burned.
The flames spread quickly, engulfing the north wing by the time I had circled back. I landed against the southernmost spire, the rock crumbling beneath my weight. A cry tore from my throat and rent the sky as I tossed my head back, fire brewing anew in my throat.
The sound of crumbling stone and screams filled my ears as I let my fire rain down once more. It engulfed the courtyard, then the entrance. The roof immediately caved in as the royals of Myrosian court scrambled for safety.
There would be nothing left by the time I was through with them.
I took to the skies once more.
I could feel Aveline. There was a hum right behind my solar plexus, pulling me toward her. It was a physical presence, now that I knew what to search for.
Could she sense me, too? Even if she couldn’t, she had to have known I was here. The crumbling castle would be hard to ignore.
Another cry tore free from my throat as I knocked into the eastern wing, allowing my size and weight to simply crush it.
When my field of vision cleared from dragon fire, I set forth a new blast. Over and over my fire scorched up my throat until it was raw and my energy was waning.
My magic wouldn’t be able to sustain me much longer without a proper feeding.
I dropped to the dirt packed earth as smoke and ash filled the skies above. Veytari and humans alike were running between my clawed feet, sprinting to get away from me.
My magic had reached its limit. As it failed to sustain my dragon form, I dropped to my knees. I was Vireth once more, only enough magic left in my well of power to keep my wings at my back.
My fire was expended, but it didn’t matter.
As I gazed upon the castle, a smile drew across my lips. The castle of Myros was in ruins. Wreckage and debris were strewn about as the cries of the citizens filled my ears.
I scanned the coastline, realizing that half of Majur had crumbled beneath my wrath, too. A necessary sacrifice—or collateral damage.
However you wanted to look at it.
I could feel the hum in my core, drawing me toward her. The need to find her was primal.
She was somewhere among the rubble of the castle. Still alive.
In my human form, wings at my back and sword in my hand, I set off toward the wreckage.
I was going to find her, and ensure every last royal was dead.