Chapter Sixteen
Avari
Waking from restless slumber, last night’s fears returned to assault my mind. Bringing my dragon to Fogoya felt final, a decision that made me question my place in this court and whether I’d been too hasty.
I would have preferred to wait a few more days, to test the waters and make sure the king’s new, gentler side wasn’t just a mask meant to manipulate me.
But Anya had made up her mind, and if I refused to conjure her, she’d threatened to track me down and scorch my hair. Although I wasn't particularly concerned with the threat, our relationship had been strained enough already.
Uneasy, I skipped breakfast and spent the long hours lying still until training time finally came. As I descended the stairs, nerves knotted tight in my stomach. I prayed quietly, foolishly, that someone, anyone, would tell me if this was the right choice.
‘Tell me what it feels like when you conjure your dragon,’ River requested after forming several flaming dragons with his power.
They soared around us in synchronised motions.
The ease with which he wielded his fire inspired me.
It was all my own power needed to thrash inside me, desperate for release.
I kicked a stray rock back onto the pebbled pathway, but it did nothing to ease the frustration simmering in my chest. Trying to describe something as vast as conjuring in words felt impossible. Language wasn’t made for sensations that deep.
Besides, ‘It’s different to conjuring it for the first time.’
The king stood close, much closer than the last few times we practised before I was almost swallowed and spat out by my mother’s curse.
His eyes glistened with resolve as he watched the flaming beasts fly above us, roaring fire in all directions.
It was breathtaking, but I couldn’t focus on anything beyond my unease.
It was far too easy to forget how much he loathed witches. Maybe he’d been ignoring that part of me for the sake of my fire-breathing half, but denial wasn’t a strategy that could last.
‘What happened when you first conjured her?’ he pressed. ‘Give me some context so I can try to replicate it.’
‘Believe me,’ I said softly, ‘you don’t want to replicate that.’
His smile faltered. The warmth in his eyes cooled, curiosity hardening into something resembling compassion. The change startled me.
Now was the time. I’d promised my dragon, and I had to keep my end of the deal. Dragons longed for companionship, and the distance between us had left hollows in both our hearts.
And mine raced. ‘I actually thought maybe we could take a different approach today, if you don’t mind.’
A note of discontent crept into his expression. I knew he would circle back to the question eventually; he wanted to know what that first conjuring looked like. But I wasn’t sure I could ever tell him that story. Reliving it would be its brand of torture, one I wasn’t certain I’d survive.
So I tried a safer path. ‘Maybe meeting my dragon would inspire you?’
His forehead creased, eyebrows nearly tangling with his dark curls. He stepped closer until the air between us thinned, and in his eyes I glimpsed something I’d never expected: vulnerability.
‘You’d let me meet her?’ The hopeful tone in his voice nearly broke my heart. Whether he sought the bond itself or a weapon for battle, I understood. Dragons completed something in their wielders, and I would help if I could.
‘Yes,’ I said, clearing my throat to break the tension. ‘She wants to meet you too.’
The ruthless King of Fogoya smiled so brightly that I could only wish to experience happiness as boundless as he must have been feeling.
‘She wants to meet me?’ His smirk turned shameless. ‘Did you tell her she can eat me?’
I laughed. ‘No, never. I wouldn’t want to give her indigestion. No offence, you just don’t look like a good snack.’
‘You don’t say, princess.’ The king crossed his arms, teeth flashing in amusement. ‘Your fire always seems quite ravenous for me.’
Did he somehow sense my turmoil? Shameless bastard.
‘My fire is a needy, primal force. However, I am of sound mind,’ I said, mirroring his stance. Heat prickled beneath my skin, betraying me no matter how tightly I held myself. Truth be told, I was embarrassed that even now, my fire was actively trying to reach him.
A glint of something darker shone in his hypnotic eyes, as if he really sensed my struggle. ‘Nothing bad with a little bit of primal, is there, princess?’
Cocking a brow, I challenged, ‘I thought I wasn’t a princess anymore, almighty King?’
His loud snicker humoured me, as did the flicker of excitement brightening his eyes. Shifting my focus to the latest improvements in his behaviour helped ease some of my distress.
He stood tall and steady, waiting for me to start, his fingers fidgeting at his sides as I drew the moment out intentionally.
‘How about we meet that dragon of yours, little witch?’ he said at last.
And for the first time, the king was about to experience an effective conjuring.
The King
At first, I thought it was a cruel joke. That Ava meant to mock my inability to conjure a dragon by offering to summon hers, only to withdraw the offer once I showed interest. But the unsteady rhythm of her heart showed me she was nervous.
Would she really go through with it?
I couldn’t picture a reality where her dragon soared above Fogoyan skies.
I had dreamed of it, yes, like I dreamed of conjuring mine, but I never believed it would come to pass.
After everything that had happened, I assumed she’d never trust me, let alone so soon after I nearly broke her neck. How could she?
My fire stayed restless, adamant in its need to claim her in every way possible. Did hers push her toward me with the same strength?
We were damned, both of us.
Enemies bound in an alliance that could never be fulfilled without destroying one of us. And the more time I spent with the witch, the more I didn’t want to see her hurt. The revelation shook me to my core. Everything I’d ever known began to crumble into dust the moment I sensed her oncoming death.
I shouldn’t have been able to do that. Not with a curse, not bewitched.
Whatever was happening to me ran deeper, scorching my instincts and my schemes into nothing, reshaping them with her at the centre—a focal point I couldn’t afford.
Not while I warred with her mother and the evil queen slaughtered my soldiers daily.
The contradicting thoughts warred in my mind as my people did on the battlefield. It was exhausting.
The Gods were playing a cruel game, and I was their pawn. I couldn’t allow myself, or my fire, to cross that line.
The princess would teach me, I would help her, and then she would disappear from my life.
It was the only way to stop this madness.
It had to be this way.