Chapter Nine
Avari
‘Get back!’ Anya roared in my mind.
My chest tightened when I confessed, ‘There is no way to get back…’
‘I’m coming to get you! Send a spark so I can find you.’
No, I wouldn’t risk her freedom. ‘He won’t let me leave. I won’t risk him imprisoning you, too.’
‘He can try… Do you not understand how strong I am, child?’
‘Don’t come,’ I pleaded, my voice barely louder than a pathetic whisper.
‘I’m coming for you; I’ll be there tomorrow—’ she hissed in my mind. ‘What have you done?’
She roared so much. Too much. I feared my ears would start bleeding. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Don’t you dare! Reveal your location right now, you insufferable girl! Right now.’
‘I love you.’ And for the first time ever I shut my dragon out completely, our bond going dark.
The courtyard was eerily silent as I stepped out of the castle for the imminent training session. It almost felt as though my sour mood had spread to the surrounding vegetation, which stood unnaturally still and cold, as though bracing for a storm.
I noticed a few more members of the staff on my way down, and an elderly woman in a pink apron even offered me a shy smile. Such a small gesture, yet it warmed something inside me. I might have appreciated it more if my heart hadn't felt like a heavy black hole ever since I'd shut Anya out.
The king stormed past me into a clearing and dropped his usual book on the ground; I watched it land with a loud thud. Anger bled from him, as I feared my body soon could.
‘What the hell is wrong with you?’ he demanded, fists clenching at his sides, a promise of my early demise.
Terrified of his neurotic behaviour, I asked meekly, ‘What have I done now?’
‘Are you poisoning yourself? You think if I see how depressed you are, I will let you go back to your fucked-up kingdom?’ Dracon shouted in my face, invading my personal space entirely once more.
Though I wanted to step back, my legs wouldn’t obey. He looked like a monster; veins bulged on his forehead and arms, and his fierce, frantic gaze froze me in place.
The last remnants of my fire and green rose to the surface in warning, as his sinister power radiated from him in waves. One blast, I feared, could send me to an early grave.
‘I would never poison myself—’
He inched closer. ‘Then what the fuck are you doing? Is it so bad here you can’t spend a week without trying to kill yourself?’
‘I’m not…’ He thought I was doing it to myself? He was the one who tried to kill me. My neck still hurt from his assault. ‘Please just let me go home.’
It was my last plea. He was probably used to people begging for their lives anyway.
The grimace and look of pure disgust on his otherwise stellar face made me recoil and finally put some distance between us. He was losing control of his powers, as heat continued to radiate from him in increasingly large rolling torrents.
‘I already knew how underhanded witches were, but making yourself this miserable to have me release you is really something… Did you take it out of your mother’s playbook?’
‘No—’ He never gave me a chance to respond. ‘She’d never make herself weak to prove a point, I mean, you really have to be stupid to do that, right?’ He sneered and pushed my shoulder, wincing as I landed on my ass.
Weakened as I was, there was no way of telling if he had used his fae strength or whether the curse had already hollowed me out that far.
‘Manipulating this… That’s some old magic,’ he trailed furiously, quickly coming face-to-face with me as he violently grabbed my shirt collar and lifted me off the ground.
The seams strained, then split, unable to withstand the wild force of his grasp.
‘Have you been performing magic on me, witch?!’
Though I wanted to, I could not answer. I stared while my feet still touched the grass and midsection dangled in the air. I prayed for it to be over; I didn’t have the mental strength to continue getting abused any longer.
‘Just look at yourself. Do you want to die?’ he seethed, so close that his breath felt like steam.
There wasn’t a drop of kindness in that man. Only evil.
‘What the fuck are you doing?’ A raven-haired, tall woman sent him stumbling at least ten feet away from me. ‘How dare you?’
A blast of vengeful, living flame—so like mine in hue—struck him, sending him crashing to the ground. He stayed kneeling far away as she rushed to my side. The king never attacked her back; his hardened glare locked on me. Whilst he stayed away, the violent intent still shone in his eyes.
‘Hey, hey… It’s okay. I mean, are you okay?’ Nervousness showed on her pale face as she rubbed her hands down my shoulders.
Oh. I was shivering.
The newly met woman must have assumed it was caused by anxiety; however, I had a suspicion it was actually related to the dangerously slow pace of my heart.
Not because of the king. It was because my time had run out. I would not plead with them anymore. Holding on to the last shreds of dignity was all I had. At that stage, I did not think going back home would help; it had gone too far.
‘I would like to go to my room, I think,’ I said, palming the torn collar.
‘Of course, I will walk you.’ She helped me get up and readied herself to walk me back.
‘No, thank you. I will manage.’ Shrugging her hands off, I rushed to the castle.
Dying young was bad enough, but having them there to witness and gloat as the king inevitably classed me as stupid enough to perish to prove a point—that felt like a different curse altogether.
And I did not want the new, nice stranger to see me struggle on the stairs either.
It was shameful, and I had been embarrassed enough in my short lifetime.
Witnessing the king’s savage ways, I couldn’t believe I considered teaching him how to conjure. That cruel beast could never be allowed to bond a dragon.
And I missed my dragon. Anya might never forgive me, but I clung to the hope that one day she would understand.
By the time I reached my room, my chest burned again. My body was shutting down, slowly and unquestionably.
A couple of hours had passed, and I knew it was coming. My vision had long since blurred, leaving me able to recognise only vague shapes.
Soon after, weakness took me. My limbs stopped listening. I couldn’t even lift my head. Through my veiled sight, I could still make out the tendrils of my mother’s magic tightly wrapping around my chest and squeezing relentlessly.
The small black mark of the curse left on my sternum glowed red through the fabric of my shirt, as if branding me from within.
Heat spread through my nervous system, setting every vein, artery, and capillary ablaze until they felt like ash beneath my skin.
Even my lungs smouldered, and when I coughed, it was as though ash spilt out.
‘Fight it!’ Anya roared.
I didn’t care about the assault of pain, only that she felt it with me. Once bonded, the dragons would feel their bonds dying, even when the connection was closed. It felt like a part of their souls was dying with the bond. That’s what she said soon after we found each other.
Although new bonds could be forged, most dragons treasured the sanctity of the first too deeply to risk tainting it. And now because I had failed even a simple escape, my dragon would be condemned to eternal solitude.
Ash seared holes through my lungs with every breath, while the evil magic raced through my vital organs. I crumpled to the ground, a soft whimper escaping as I realised my monstrous mother wouldn’t grant me even the mercy of a swift death.
Torture was the preference. If I’d had the breath, I might have laughed.
A shiver took me as my heart slowed dangerously, each beat fainter, yet resounding in my ears in the calming silence of the room, I started to enjoy a little.
A sharp bang shook the wall. I was almost certain it had cracked, but I hadn’t the strength to turn my head and see what caused it. Opening my eyelids felt like an impossible task, and I probably would not see much anyway, considering it felt like my eyeballs had been charred.
A stray tear slid down my cheek as I assured myself that a comfortable life wasn’t meant for me anyway.
Soon I was floating, or rather, somebody had lifted me off the ground.
Perhaps the staff had me moved to avoid damage to the pristine burgundy rugs, though they would probably hide my blood stains well.
I didn’t care where I died anymore. The end was here. This weakness was foreign to me; I had never experienced anything like it, and I was dying when I bonded my dragon, too.
It was nothing like this, this curse that my mother put on me used one of the few things I cherished in life—fire—to snuff it out of me. The cruel queen would find it funny how it destroyed a fire-breather.
A soothing cold touched my bare back as I said my goodbyes to the world and Anya, whom I couldn’t sense at all anymore.
Everything went dark.