Page 102 of King of Fire and Flames

Three long pulls of my blood, while I swayed to the sounds of death throes and madness, a terrible bliss swelling in my chest. The air stank of fear and gore, yet I only felt peace in the Storm King’s arms, my back pressed against the warmth of his chest and stomach.

“Go now, and please be safe,” his voice echoed in my mind. “Despite how much I wanted to hurt him, I let you take Bakhur. Excellent work by the way, my ferocious love. But Azarn… Azarn is mine. Help Raiden keep the way clear for me.” Arrow searched blindly for my face, stroking my cheek. “It breaks my heart not to see you. Kills me not to know if you are well.”

“I’m doing great. Make sure not being able to see me is the only thing that slays you tonight,” I said, pulling out of his arms. “Hurry. Time’s passing swiftly.”

Praying Ari had left the dais, I dropped a kiss on Arrow’s lips. Then I leaped into the crowd, shoving my way through the fae, and stopping where bolts of storm magic and the most soldiers were being flung through the air.

“Azarn,” boomed Arrow’s voice behind me. “You forgot to invite me to the ceremony.” He shot a silver beam of lightning from his palm and lifted the Fire King out from the dwindling circle of guards, raising him high above the dais. “I find myself quite offended by your oversight.”

Azarn kicked his legs like a child held aloft by an adult, and he screamed like one, too, throwing weak fire orbs carelessly and setting his own soldiers and random fae alight.

“Melaya,” he cried out. But the fire mage didn’t come.

He shouted for the greivon dragons and the guardians, but the grymarians didn’t show, and the dragons continued to fly in haphazard patterns above the forest and arena, as though Melaya’s obstructed magic affected their ability to navigate.

Out of nowhere, a guard landed a lucky strike, his blade slicing the back of my arm. The orc was tall and fast, spinning and slashing in a brutal onslaught that backed me toward a stone wall. I tried to duck left or right, to slip away, but fae were packed tight on both sides, and my reaver cloak flickered on and off, allowing the soldier to continue his attack.

I was out of practice and had forgotten how to split my focus between fighting and concentrating on holding the cloak in place. Tired, with my energy waning, visions of my gruesome death floated through my mind.

“Move hard left.” Arrow’s voice cut into my thoughts, sharper than the blade I wielded. “Now, Leaf.”

I obeyed, throwing myself into a gap between the fighting fae.

A fork of lightning struck the soldier, and he melted into a pile of sizzling flesh and bones. “Thank you,” I told Arrow through the bond.

Even at a distance, the stench of burning flesh hit me hard, and I retched before hurtling toward the last group of soldiers still fighting, loyal to Azarn until their last breaths.

Many courtiers fled the arena, and I did my best to avoid them, to keep them safe as horrific screeches rattled the air.

The dragons.

Near the cliffs, flames exploded, then a ball of whirling dragon limbs tumbled fast toward the sea, a loud hiss sounding as they landed in the water. The poor fucking things must have collided midair.

But better Azarn’s pets were dead than any of my friends. Or Arrow.

The Fire King dangled in a lattice of crisscrossing storm magic, cursing and sobbing, his crown of black flames inert, like charcoal husks twisted through his long brown hair. His short beard was on fire, and dark smudges streaked his face. Any moment, he’d probably beg for his life.

Arrow used to love that—having another being, fae or human, at his mercy. I thought he’d changed. But perhaps not entirely.

“Kill him already,” I said, deep laughter through the bond his only reply. “Gloat too long,” I warned, “and you’ll regret it.”

“That’s true,” he said, amusement in his tone. “You are wise, Aldara, and it pains me to admit, nearly always right.”

The sky flashed blinding white as an ear-splitting thunderclap shook the kingdom. When I opened my eyes, blinking away pain…

The Fire King was dead.

Chapter 32

Leaf

Arrow launched himself into the air, his body spinning inside a vortex of blue storm magic, silver lightning forking out from the center of his chest as he flew over the arena in a jubilant victory circuit.

For a moment, I stood frozen deep in the crowd, my fists clenched, breathing raggedly as screams from the remaining courtiers and howls from forest creatures pierced the air. Shock at the Fire King’s death rippled throughout the kingdom.

“I thought a knife to the heart was the only way to kill a king,” I told Arrow silently as he swooped low over the crowd.

“A bolt of lightning is quite an effective stand-in for a blade. Have you seen Melaya?”

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