CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Verena
THE SCREAM TORE FROM MY THROAT before thought could form.
My body lunged, reaching for Rook—
And met eyes instead. They were jade and savage, lethal, as he tore open a rip in the air. The man winked, again, and then he was gone, Rook and my breath in tow.
I whipped to Callum where he stood rigid, with only a hint of shock in his expression. Obrann shoved past his guards, knuckles whitened on his robe, jaw clenched so tight it nearly shattered as he stomped toward the empty block.
“Another traitor, Your Majesty,” Callum said, bowing low.
Obrann rubbed his chin, his other hand fidgeting at his side. This was worse than failure. It was humiliating. The realization burned across his face just as the crowd began to murmur.
Whispers swelling. Rumors rooting.
Obrann snapped at that, lifting the chopping block and chucking it into the crowd with a crash. Bodies scattered as he screamed over us. “Be fucking quiet!”
But his grip was gone, his borrowed magic wrung dry. And instead of silence, it was anarchy. The crowd surged wilder, feet stomping, voices shredding the center.
Wells braced behind me, his boots planted but I was already moving, one step, then another, toward the podium.
Obrann whipped to Perseus, extending an arm and the prince lifted his palm without hesitation. Their hands clasped, energy surging between them, stolen light sparking.
“Silence,” Obrann demanded again.
And we obeyed.
Perseus smirked, rolling up his sleeves. “You revolting little pests,” he spat, pointing into the thick of us. “You’ll die in that traitor’s place.”
My blood flared hot.
Sorry, Callum. Looks like we’ll be needing the Viper after all.
The hilt of my dagger hummed as my fingers curled around it, then moved to the snake at my wrist. Power uncoiled, ready to strike—
Boom.
A distant tremor rattled the sky, low as thunder dragging beneath the realm.
Everyone’s stare had snapped up, mine following on instinct.
A shadow swept across the crowd, vast, devouring the light. That sound came again, deep and rolling.
I lifted my hands, half expecting raindrops to splatter across my skin. None came. Only goosebumps, rising across my arms as those around me murmured beneath their breaths.
The silhouette lingered and I dared myself to look back up. But I didn’t have to. Because the horns answered for me. One long, bone-rattling blow—
“Dragon!”
The word wasn’t just shouted. It was feared. It was real. And as the shadow smothered the square, I realized Obrann wasn’t the monster to dread today.
I will admit it, Callum, I’m impressed.
Slightly terrified there’s a dragon hovering above me, but still, I hadn’t expected a reaction this bold.
How in all the gods’ names did he convince a dragon to cross into Luamis?
It streaked across the sky, a flash of white and gloom, eclipsing the sun, its belly glowing with the threat of flame. The town collapsed into panic, Fae and mortals alike scattering, sprinting for cover.
I pivoted, forcing my way through the rush of bodies, only to be shoved back toward the platform. It was empty now.
Shit. Wells, anyone left behind, I was supposed to get them to safety. My one job.
The crush of bodies dissolved when I made it toward the village edge, the muck giving way to an open field. The grass bent pale and brittle against my fingers, rustling like kindling as a strange silence settled in Csolenia once again.
Only a few guards remained, their weapons raised, their magic braced. All of it aimed toward the trees.
“Did anyone see where it went?” one of them shouted, voice cracking under the fear.
“It flew over the trees, north.” Another’s head whipped frantically side to side. “It could be circling back. Godsdamned beast. We should’ve brought the spears.”
The resin spears, the only thing that could falter a force so unstoppable. Had Callum maneuvered them into leaving the spears behind? That would be too neat. Too damn suspicious.
Another guard tugged his helmet free, hair falling in damp strands to his shoulders. He spat into the dirt. “The king and prince are back in the palace. No need to sit here and end up as lunch. Let’s go.” He turned, stopping when he noticed me.
I started whistling a tune from childhood, the kind you might hum while stringing wildflowers together.
Spit came again when his stare honed. “What are you doing there, girl?”
My dagger spun around my fingers as I yawned, like I was bored of the entire world. “You know, just sticking around to watch the show.”
His eyes dipped, roaming where they didn’t belong, his tongue dragging across his lips with a wet slap.
Gross.
The temperature plunged as the wind shifted, dragging strands of hair across my cheek. Then the thrum began. Low then vibrating, rising into a growl that prickled my skin.
The guards froze, every pair of eyes snapping back to the tree line as we all listened, waiting, watching for whatever lingered at its brim.
Déjà vu laced through me, and I let the air bend as I exhaled, letting my dark pulse slither free.
The air cracked again, thickening before he appeared.
Smoke first, then the man who commanded it.
Not just any man. Not just the stranger on the platform or the ghost who slipped away with Rook—
His hood was down this time, thick, unruly onyx curls gleaming where light dared to touch them, soft where everything else about him was made of edge and threat.
The weight of them toppled forward in loose coils, tamed only where they’d been clipped shorter at the sides.
Dark smoke curved around him in worship, twining his arms, drifting upward in a patient motion, as if waiting for permission to devour. The tendrils curled along his throat, tracing the runes inked along his neck, every wisp breathing in tandem with him.
No, not just any man at all.
His presence didn’t whisper power. It demanded it. It was felt.
And I couldn’t decide what unsettled me more, the way everything bent toward him, or the way my pulse did the same.
You don’t earn power like that. You’re born into it.
My hand moved before my mind did, the dagger rising the instant his mask came away. Its point knew where to go, aiming directly at the heart of the dragon prince.
Oh, Callum. What the fuck have you done?
He was terrifying. And utterly fucking beautiful.
Ronan D’Vyre. The heir, the Wraith, the Harrowed Prince of Ryuu.
His lips curved at the corners, a sultry smirk sharpening the cut of a jaw hewn from expected violence.
It was a face that came with consequences.
And those eyes, piercing green that sent heat spiraling low into my gut as they pinned me where I stood.
The ground wavered, every guard sprinting to get as far away from him as possible. Smoke bled from his hands between us, around us, spiraling to skim along my arms, brushing my throat in a wraith’s caress before sliding past.
He never broke eye contact. Neither did I.
Not until the choking began, wet gasps turning to strangled cries.
I tore my gaze away, to the guards clawing at their own throats, faces swelling blue, eyes bulging with terror. Tendrils slithered into their mouths, winding deep, stealing every breath.
Déjà vu indeed. It was like watching my serpent play all over again.
The Viper purred at the sight, recognizing the predator before us. Drawn to the danger, as I was.
The mist licked at my boots, unnoticed until it wrapped higher, winding my ankles, twining like it knew me.
One by one, the guards fell. Five men. Dead in seconds.
And Ronan hadn’t even moved.
“Efficient.” I stepped over the nearest corpse, pressing down a pinch harder where my heel landed on his neck. “Do you ever leave survivors, or is restraint beneath your royal skill set?”
One step, smoke teasing higher up my leg. “You sound disappointed.”
Fates curse me. His voice was dusk itself, low, sin-drenched, a promise of pleasure and suffering alike.
My instincts screamed run. But my body, cursed and treacherous, stayed.
“Just verifying the rumors.” I forced calm, flippant, brittle as glass. “They say the dragon prince doesn’t fight. He just,” I gestured toward the bodies, “decides people are dead.”
The ground answered with a shudder as he stepped again, the corner of his mouth twitching. “Convenient trick, isn’t it?”
A small, razor-edged sound flicked off my tongue, barely audible. “I suppose, if you enjoy theatrics. Then sure.”
Something like a knowing smile swept across his mouth. “Oh, I imagine you’d know more about performance than most, Viper.”
It was neither sharp nor loud. Only certain.
Shadows clung to his body, prowling for prey while behind me, another guard approached then gasped. He didn’t last long.
It was a silent death. As silent as Ronan closing the distance.
My pulse didn’t stagger, only changed rhythm. “Sorry. Wrong girl.” I nodded vaguely over my shoulder. “She must have been at the next sacrifice over. Happens all the time. Easy mistake.”
One final stride and he was before me.
Close enough that I had to tilt my chin just to meet his gaze, to see the gold flecks lining the jade of his eyes, trying to shatter through the brilliance. They stripped me bare as I held my breath.
I knew the rumors, even believed most of them. But nothing prepared me for this. For him.
His head tilted, studying me like a predator deciding where to bite first. “It wasn’t a question.”
Every syllable came out smoothly, his voice dragging slowly across my skin. There was restraint in it, something caged. And I felt it down to my core.
“Well, if we’re going by nicknames…” I steadied my tone. He had many names. Some bred from awe, others from terror. But I knew which one would mock more than praise. “What’s the famed Harrowed Prince doing on Luamis soil? I’d have thought the sun might scorch those delicate scales.”
My eyes betrayed me when he smirked, roaming his entirety, catching the ink first, curling around his throat, spilling down his neck. Swirls and sigils disappearing beneath his tunic.