Page 162 of House of Ashes

I unwillingly dragged myself out of Rhylan’s arms and into the bath. But this was not to be a Claim, or an official convocation, so I pulled on fresh leathers instead of a dress, buckled my sword at my side, and slid daggers into my armguards.

Instead of pinning my plaits in a crown, I secured my hair in a high ponytail, letting the streaks of silver shine amongst the black. The end of the tail swayed against my lower back as I walked.

Kirana’s room was locked tight, and I sensed my Ascendant’s presence within. I hesitated at her threshold, my knuckles raised to the door, but ultimately, I let my hand drop.

Kirana needed to sleep for now. It would be at least several days before the dragon’s blood had finished working its changes on her; she needed peace and rest far more than she needed status updates.

And if we could give her the good news of an alliance upon her awakening… all the better.

Rhylan was in the eyrie, already shifted, his horned head turned to the open southern windows. I stroked his shoulder before I went to work on buckling the harness around him, and when that was done, I checked the logbook.

He had scribbled in our destination and departure time, in such a hasty, illegible scrawl that Viros was sure to have an apoplexy over it when he reviewed what we’d done. I winced, and pointed to it.

“Is this what you call proper documentation? Honestly, Rhylan.”

The dragon snickered at me, the tip of his tail thrashing.

“I’m coming.” I mounted easily, settling myself in the saddle and stirrups and wrapping the reins around my wrist before I reached down to pat him over his knotted scars. “Ready.”

With hope in our hearts, we launched into the sky and turned south.

With my hair streaming in the wind, I kept my hand pressed to Rhylan’s back, drawing strength from his warmth and the power beneath his hide. The hours passed quickly, my heart in my throat the entire time, my nerves wrestling with that undefeated tendril of hope curling through me.

In a few short hours, we would have the power to end this.

To avenge Loralei… and Kirana, for what had been done to her.

For what I’d had to do to her.

Yura would find herself backed into a corner, more dangerous than ever, but even she couldn’t stand against all the Houses united against her.

My pulse sped up as the golden spires of Koressis came into view, shining a bloody red as the sun dipped towards the horizon. Rhylan ate the distance with his wings, until the gleam of the Circle was visible far below.

There were already dragons in place on its pearly stones. Even from such a height, I recognized the icy blue scales of Doric, Gaelin’s white spines, and the vivid emerald green of a Jade Leaves dragon. Tyria stood at his side, regal and aloof.

Rhylan dove, spiraling downwards—a vague memory brushed against my mind, a dragon spiraling to earth, shadows beneath his wings—and landed lightly near Gaelin.

But the snow-scaled dragon—our ally—did not acknowledge us. I glanced at Maristela, and when the draga’s eyes met mine, she looked away just as quickly.

The first tinge of disquiet touched my heart with icy fingers.

Tyria was to our left, her son curled protectively around her, but she kept her gaze fixed on the other side of the Circle, where a rider and her dragon waited.

As soon as I laid eyes on her, I knew she was Asura, Maristela’s younger sister and the new princess heir to the Shadowed Stars. She had the same dusky scales, her hair a paler shade of blonde, but she stood the same as Chantrelle: straight-backed, chin high.

Cyran, her mate, was streamlined and long-bodied in his dragon form, ivory-scaled, soft cream-colored feathers growing in a crest from his brow and jaw, and along the edges of his wings.

Both of them were no more than eighteen—fresh from the Training Grounds. Untested, untried dragonbloods.

All the draga were wearing leathers in their House colors, bristling with weapons.

Disquiet became fear, my chest tightening painfully.

Of all the dragonbloods present, Doric alone shifted into his male body, and I dismounted so Rhylan could follow suit. We remained at the edge of the Circle, just out of earshot of Gaelin and Maristela.

“You shouldn’t have come,” Doric said under his breath, lines of tension radiating from the corners of his eyes. “Why are you here?”

“Elinor sent us a message from both of you. That we were to discuss a potential alliance against Yura.” I stayed close to Rhylan’s side, unable to stop my eyes from flicking nervously between Gaelin and Maristela, and Tyria—dragonbloods who had never had any reason to show hostility towards us, and now refused to acknowledge our presence.

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