CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE TREW
CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE
TREW
Guards closed in around the platform, their blades forming a steel ring that glinted in the sunlight. I snarled, flanked by Gavelle in firecat form, embers flickering in his smoke-dark fur.
The plan had gone well—until it started to fall apart.
My every instinct screamed to tear through that wall of flesh and metal, but one wrong move and Isi would pay the price.
Her father had recovered his grip, his arm locked around her throat, his blade pressed deep enough that fresh blood trickled down her neck in a crimson line that made my vision blur red.
That blood was mine to avenge, not his to spill.
The crowd watched intently, their earlier defiance draining away as hope died in their eyes. Some of the prisoners dropped to their knees, their faces crumpling.
I’d promised her the world. Freedom. A future where she wore a crown instead of a mask. And I couldn’t even keep her safe in this cursed square.
“Hold on, Minx,” I growled under my breath. “I’ll tear through them all for you.”
Then do it, Gavelle said, his voice a snarl of barely restrained violence. Now.
If we survive this, I wasn’t letting Isi out of my sight again.
Watching her father’s blade at her throat had made me want to burn this whole square to the ground just to prove no one touched what was mine.
The sky darkened.
Silence descended in the village square, and even King Cyril looked up.
My feral smile rose.
Massive shadows swept across the square like an eclipse, sunlight fracturing through beating wings.
Our dragons circled overhead, their roars shaking the stones beneath our feet.
They blasted flames skyward, and the villagers gaped up at them.
Most of these people had never seen dragons outside of drawings.
These beasts lived in their minds like legends.
The king’s mouth fell open. The blade at Isi’s throat slackened enough for me to move.
My realm’s fury descends for her. Watch them bow before my queen.
Pherin snarled and stalked toward the king.
Isi moved, twisting with the skill she’d shown me in every training session, her body moving with everything Thorne had ever taught her.
The blade fell from her father’s grip and she caught it, reversing it to point it at his chest. She poked until blood trickled across the front of his pristine robe.
Her father backed away, his arms lifting and his eyes widening with the realization that nothing stood between him and his daughter’s rage.
His dignity crumbled and he stammered. “Amarissa, please, I’m your father—”
Pherin rushed him, knocking him to the platform with a thud that rattled through the crowd. She pinned him down, her hot breath washing over his face as he whimpered.
I swore I could hear her voice through Gavelle. Bite off head now? Please?
A laugh barked out of me despite everything.
“Patience, little firestorm,” I whispered, knowing she’d hear.
Gavelle rumbled agreement, his ember eyes locking on her with shared hunger.
Soon, brother, I said. We’ll feast on his screams together.
At my cue, Gavelle bounded up onto the platform to guard Isi. His low growl rang out, promising violence to anyone stupid enough to threaten what he’d claimed as ours.
I strode up onto the platform, locking my eyes on the pathetic man who’d dared put a blade to my Minx’s throat.
“Behave, you sorry excuse for a man,” I said, my voice carrying across the suddenly silent square. “Or my queen will let her beasts feast. Frankly, I wish she would. I’d enjoy watching.”
Cyril’s whimper fueled the monster inside me, but it was Isi’s steady gaze that tamed it. My fierce minx stood with her father’s blade in her hand while blood trickled down her throat like war paint.
“You touch her again,” I snarled at the king, “and I’ll make thrones from your bones, crowns from your teeth, and I’ll build whatever kingdom she wants from your ruin.”
The earth shook as the dragons landed with thunderous impacts, their scales gleaming gold and green and deep crimson in the sunlight. Their wings folded in at their sides as they settled around the square’s perimeter. The villagers stared at them in awe.
I caught Isi’s eye, and her lips curved in that secret smile that always undid me. “You brought a storm for me.”
“Always.”
Maddox moved through the crowd with his companion herding people toward the dragons. Coralee’s companion strode ahead of them, scouting for threats while Naveah organized the loading of supplies and people.
The crowd’s mood shifted. Villagers who’d come to watch an execution now rushed forward to help, steadying friends and neighbors, helping them climb up onto waiting dragons.
Guards watched Isi’s father for orders, their blades half-raised but uncertainty clear in their stances.
“Attack,” he sputtered from beneath Pherin’s paws. “Stop them!”
Several guards lowered their weapons. Others stepped back entirely.
“The princess speaks the truth,” one muttered.
“I won’t kill innocents for a magical harvest,” another said, loud enough to carry.
The king’s authority was falling apart like wet paper, and he knew it.
“Told you dragons make everything better,” I told Isi.
Her grin widened. “Careful, rebel king.” Her voice had gone husky from the fight, but her eyes were sparkling with that fire I craved like breath. “Or I’ll start expecting grand gestures every time I face down a tyrant.”
I strode over and pulled her close, whispering by her ear. “Every day with you is grand, Minx, but I’d happily save the world-ending ones for another time.”
Pherin grumbled as Isi called her away, the firecat’s reluctance to leave the king clear in every movement. She shifted back into her minxpip form and flew over to land on Isi’s shoulder.
I could kill him. The thought was clean and simple.
One command to Gavelle and it was done. But Isi had just stood in front of that crowd and shown them Cyril was deceived, not evil.
Killing him now would make her a liar and me a tyrant, and we needed neither today.
A dead king was just a martyr. A humiliated king who’d been disarmed by his own daughter in front of his own people was something the crowd would remember forever.
Let him live with it.
Isi’s father scrambled to his feet, brushing off his ceremonial robes in a futile attempt to restore his dignity. “You’ve destroyed everything.”
“I’ve freed our people,” Isi simply said, standing tall with his blade in her hand, every bit of her the amazing woman I’d seen in her from the start. “There’s a difference.”
She was glory incarnate, my blade-hearted love who’d faced down her nightmare and won. I stood at her side, her equal in the chaos we’d unleashed together.
She didn’t need me for her victory. She’d won this battle on her own.
“When I return,” she said, her voice carrying across the square, “it will be to end this farcical mercy permanently.”
Her father’s face twisted. “Come back, and I’ll have an army waiting.”
Isi’s smile turned sharp. “Good. Because I’ll have one with me, and mine has dragons.”
Damn if I didn’t fall harder for her right then and there.
The last prisoners were loaded, and our team mounted dragons as well. Bags hung from the dragon spikes; food for our journey.
Companions shifted and settled on their bonded’s shoulders or laps.
When Isi turned away from her father, it was a dismissal, not a retreat.
I climbed onto Lakast’s back, settling behind her, looping my arms around her waist as the dragon’s muscles bunched beneath us.
The dragons launched skyward, their wings thundering as we climbed. Wind whipped through our hair, and the ground fell away beneath us.
“You were magnificent down there,” I said, curling forward to kiss her temple. “You’re my heart, my blade, my everything.”
She leaned back against my chest, and for a moment, we just flew. Just breathed. Just existed together in the space between battles.
Below us, the village square didn’t empty. People stayed, talking, questioning guards and elders. Some looked up and waved.
Seeds of rebellion had been planted and were already taking root.
The exhilaration of our escape faded as reality shoved its way back into my life. We’d rescued twenty-four people, but war marched toward Syllavar on swift feet.
Many lives saved, but how many more would die in the war King Cyril had triggered?
Every choice spawned new consequences, new threats. They were free, but freedom came with a price others would pay.
I lifted my voice to carry to the rescued prisoners. “I’m King Trewyn of Syllavar.”
Only a few looked shocked.
“We’re taking you somewhere safe,” I said. “When we land, you’ll have a choice, so take time to think about it. I’ll give you coin enough to start over anywhere you choose, or you can come with us to Syllavar, where magic isn’t only tolerated, it’s welcomed, trained, and celebrated.”
They exchanged glances. Some nodded right away. Others looked uncertain.
“Your future is your own to decide.”
Mae rode behind Maddox, who kept looking back at her with concern. She gave us a watery smile. “Thank you. Thank you. I thought I’d die without ever seeing my Leo again.”
“You’re safe now,” Isi said. “We’ll take you to him.”
Tears streamed down Mae’s face. “There isn’t anything that would make me happier.”
We flew into the night, stopping the next morning in an isolated valley, eating from the supplies Naveah and Coralee had taken from Caldrith’s kitchens.
Six of those we’d rescued opted to take a purse of coins and strike out on their own, but eighteen new Syllavar citizens mounted dragons to keep flying south, including Mae.
The dragons strained under the weight of the rescued prisoners plus our team. Companions stayed vigilant in the air, scanning for threats. We’d do our best to get to Syllavar to help with the upcoming siege.
“We’re not ready for this,” Isi said, strain edging through her voice.
“We will be. You and me? We rewrite fates, my love.”
Find friends soon? Gavelle asked in my mind from where he flew beside us.
I felt Isi’s worry through our connection.
“Hold on Kerralyn, Lexie, and Derren,” she whispered. “We’re coming.”
“We’ll make sure our army is ready, then fly south,” I said. “We need to end this before we’re fighting on two fronts.”
There was no escaping now.
War was coming.
May the fates help us survive.