Page 47 of A Broken Ember

My body wasn’t mine. I couldn’t move or intervene as I stood helplessly by as Anastasius and Odon fought. And for what? Surely, the prince wasn’t willing to give up everything for me. Yet, as he laid bleeding out, dying from wounds he couldn’t feel, I understood that wasn’t true. Anastasius was willing to sacrifice his life for me. My gut curled. He had fought for me, a villain unworthy of such devotion.

I stared at the prince, unable to even tear my eyes away when it was clear he had lost. The ability to blink was even lost to me. Magic claimed me within its claws, slipping into my soul. When Calian snuck behind Anastasius and attacked him, I couldn’t even call out a warning to the man my heart longed for. Instead, my heart froze as Odon cut him down, the wound like a blow to my heart. A silent scream burned in my chest, fury billowing within me. Anastasius! My whole body cried with a fatal agony—an open-eyed nightmare. When Oriana took Hariasa’s blade, approaching my wings, I felt no fear for myself. Let them take my wings, just save Anastasius, I hopelessly pleaded with whichever god would listen.

Oriana gave me a savage grin before walking out of my line of vision. A weight fell upon the base of my wing. She was truly going to take my ability to fly. The thought crashed into me like one of those tidal waves against the cliffs below the Circulus castle. Pressure built on that joint, nearly blinding me with pain. This was it. Stas’ bellow screamed of heartbreak, amplifying my own. I stared helplessly at Anastasius, wishing I could go to him—to tell him that he was strong and that I loved him. He shook uncontrollably. His face split with profound pain.

And then he finally exploded into his draconis with a roar that shattered through me, echoing my pain. Bodies scattered in a desperate attempt to flee the extraordinary power. They thought he was broken, and he was, but that didn’t make him weak. It made him unstoppable. He erupted broken with rage, vengeance, and anguish. Screams of terror were silenced by the whip of Anastasius’ tail. Blood poured from terrifying smiles on their throats, but there was only one bloody throat I cared to look at—Odon’s. The wound was deep. Blood gushed from him in mighty waves that sprayed the brown stone. The Ruptor keened, delighted with the life pouring from the tormentor of those who should be protected.

A cry sounded next to me, and the pressure on my wing dissipated. Oriana darted toward her De Vita as he crumbled. Her face was pale, her weapon discarded as she clutched Odon. Her hands waved in rapid movements that I knew meant she was attempting to use her magic. She was too late. Odon was dead.

My body sagged, making me blink in confusion. I could move. The thought rattled through me as the scene before me came into focus: Anastasius was covered in blood. He had killed his father.

A heavy silence filled the air. Draconis from the sky landed on the plateau, shifting to get a better look at their dead leader. Rohit had shifted and growled protectively at everyone who looked at the prince. I held my breath, instinctively placing myself between the prince and his clan as if we could fight off the entire De Vita. And I would protect this man.

A scarred hand rested against my scales—so small but so significant. Ercan, my father. His touch said so much—thank you. I forgive you. I am proud of you. I love you.

A weak wail erupted from Oriana. I looked around at the gathered draconis, on edge. Bracing for an attack. But it never came. Instead, a nauseating power swept over me. My mind circled in a dizzying spin, and my vision blurred. I closed my eyes to try and orientate myself, but the feeling only escalated until I couldn’t feel the ground I stood on, only the sickening power that ensnared my entire body. Was I flying? My stomach rolled, and I tasted vomit. Then, as quickly as it started, it ended, leaving me feeling disorientated. My claws pierced sand, and my eyes flew open. De Vita was gone. The draconis that had surrounded us were gone. Only Ercan, Rohit, and Anastasius remained. Fucking magic.

I shifted, quickly followed by Rohit. Anastasius stayed in draconis, his injuries too dire to reveal his other form. He needed a healer before he could shift again, but we had just left them back at De Vita. If we returned, I wasn’t certain we would survive, let alone be welcome.

The prairies of the Neutral Strip surrounded us. The scent of spice was duller here, only present on our bodies. Where would we go from here? The Circulus . . . would Thana honor her promise to take me back broken? What about Anastasius, Ercan, and Rohit? I feared the answer. But I had the knowledge Thana sought for leverage, but it was unlikely that it would be enough if they had the witch.

Rohit and Ercan quarreled about what to do, their rapid hand gestures punctuating the heated conversation. I ignored them, instead walking over to where Anastasius had collapsed a few feet away. His gaze was distant, the equivalent of draconis’ tears in his eyes. Draconis couldn’t cry, but despair was etched into his face. I placed a hand on his scales gently, making him focus on me. The heartbreak in his eyes was almost too much to bear. I swallowed around the lump in my throat.

“You fool. You could have died. You could still die.” My voice broke, and tears welled in my eyes. I didn’t brush them away, instead caressing the scales around his eye. It was like touching the sky itself, the closest I could come to flying without leaving the ground. And he was all mine. The thought made me blink and I turned it over, examining it. I wanted it to be true.

“Anastasius, I…” I trailed off when a shadow eclipsed us. There was so much to say, but now wasn’t the time. I glanced over my shoulder. The pair had stopped bickering and wore solemn looks. Rohit glared at me while Ercan gave me a look I couldn’t read. Sympathy? Understanding? I couldn’t imagine why. Sure, I had spared him when I could have destroyed him, but after everything I had done to him, protecting him was the least I could do.

“Ercan and I agree that the best course of action is to wait here for a few days, let the chaos back at De Vita settle, and then return. That way, Thyia can attempt to heal Anastasius,” Rohit announced, but I was already shaking my head. That wasn't good enough. I should step aside. I didn't know anything about healing, but I refused to leave Anastasius. He had sacrificed everything for me. The De Vita clan had stood aside, letting their prince die on the plateau rather than intervene. I wouldn’t take him back there unless he insisted. But there was another option. Rohit raised an eyebrow at me, and I could feel three pairs of curious eyes upon me. “You have a better idea, Circulus?” he asked me with a modicum of respect.

I swallowed. My idea wouldn’t be well-received, but it was our best chance.

“We find the witch. We need power to return,” I uttered, making two jaws drop. Absolute refusal swept across Rohit’s face. He snorted, but before anyone could protest, I continued. “I know De Vita has been looking for the magic witch for many moon turns now. But what if you were looking in the wrong place?” I glanced at the draconis at my side. Anastasius had perked up, his attention caught. For a moment, there was silence as my three companions contemplated what I said.

“I agree with Claeg. The witch could provide us with the advantage we need. I say we present ourselves to the Circulus,” Ercan stated, making Rohit whip around and my jaw drop. He believed we should return to the clan who had broken his Circles. My eyes widened at the realization.

“You’re a fool if you believe your Janardan won’t kill us all immediately,” Rohit growled, glancing at me for support, but I was already agreeing.

“It will work. They will do as I ask," I admitted. Everyone but Anastasius looked at me curiously. I understood why. Why would the Janardan listen to the voice of a man whose Circles were broken? Ercan had been told he would be killed if he returned. They waited expectantly for my explanation. I swallowed nervously and turned toward Anastasius, choosing to address him. These words would hurt him the most. The truth—it would break his heart to learn of all the lies between us.

My knees hit the ground as my confession tumbled out of me. “My Circles were not broken because I am a traitor. It was a lie to gain your trust. So that I could infiltrate your clan and discover your secrets.” My eyes fell closed, awaiting their justice.I deserved whatever judgment they decided upon.

“You bastard!” Rohit roared. There was no time to develop a defense. Even if there had been, I wouldn’t have bothered. I deserved their wrath. I braced for the attack. So when the strike didn’t land, I opened my eyes in confusion. Anastasius no longer lay casually in front of me but stood, tail wrapped around me, bearing his teeth. For a second, I thought he was snarling at me before I realized Rohit was his target. I jolted around, staring between the two of them. Anastasius’ stare was possessive, protective. “Move out of the way, Stas. You’re protecting a dead man. A traitorous dead man,” he spat, his sword drawn, but he didn’t advance from where Anastasius had drawn a line, and the prince didn’t move, leaving the two of them in a glare-off. Anastasius had no reason to trust me or protect me, yet he stood beside me, against his friend. It wasn’t until then that it fully hit me—his promise wasn’t just air, but tangible. He stood with me as someone who had made mistakes and grown from them. He claimed me, knowing all my faults and brokenness and he still Chose me, as I had Chosen him.

Chapter 50: Anastasius

Claeg knelt, bearing his soul before those who mattered most to me. He’d already confessed to planning to betray me, my clan. This was different. I should be angry, but I wasn’t. I trusted Claeg. Maybe that made me a fool with a weak heart, but my path was entwined with his—the prophetic dance had revealed that to me. He was mine. Faults, broken pieces and all. Mine.

My tail curled around him protectively as I bared my teeth at my friend. The moment I created that barrier between them, he looked at me and his eyes softened. He trusted me even in this, and that made my heart warm with love for my friend. His hand shifted on his weapon, and he took a step backward, submitting to me as his De Vita. The realization slammed into me like the mesa was crumbling, falling to pieces: I was De Vita. The picture of my father bleeding out on the plateau surfaced. I was De Vita. I didn’t feel any different, and yet everything had shifted. Things would never be the same. I blinked, looking at my Chosen.

I stood before the prince of darkness, the Ruptor. He was beautiful, but the uncertainty on his face made me ache. I needed to tell him, so I allowed my draconis to recede. Instantly, the exhaustion returned in full force, but my vision was restored along with my hearing. It wouldn’t last, but . . . Claeg. He needed to know that I loved him. That I could never hate him. My mouth opened to make my declarations, but I fumbled, my knees giving out beneath me.

His eyes widened in horror, and Rohit screamed his protest, demanding I return to my draconis state. Meanwhile, Ercan dove into action, drawing on his magic to cast a summoning spell. The salves. With them, he would enable me to withstand the injuries long enough to make my voice heard. I grabbed Claeg’s hand, squeezing lightly. “You’re so strong, so brave, my Eleos, my Ruptor,” I gasped. I gave him a weak smile. Hopefully he was listening, I didn’t have much time before I had to return to my draconis. There would be no more time left after this. The next time I shifted, only healing magic would save me.

Tears glistened in his eyes as he caught me when I fell to my knees. I tuned out his blubbering pleas for me to shift,, along with Rohit’s shrieks. My friend would hate me for putting myself at risk, but they needed to hear what I had to say. “I will always Choose you.” He flinched as my hand went up to cup his cheek. “You are my Chosen. I will always Choose you. You stayed.”

“You don’t know me,” he insisted, going back to old excuses. But he was wrong. Because I did.

“I know you are honorable and will deny your desires to protect me. I know you like to fly to clear your head, and I know you would give up your wings for your father. You have a heart that cannot stand to see another suffer. So, you tell me: what else is there to know?” I growled, clenching my fists.

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