Page 16 of The Horde King of Shadow

My eyes caught on Sarkin’s, watched as he ran his palm down her wide neck. He swung his leg over, dismounting expertly with a long jump down in front of her left wing. He landed in a crouch and then rose.

I’ll ride a dragon this morning,came the sudden thought, so unfathomable that it didn’t quite feel real until this very moment.

My chin rose when he approached. Sarkin’s eyes narrowed on my brother, a curl of black hair drifting in front of his lefteye when Zaridan gusted her wings. I heard Orak—one of my father’s council members—make a distressed sound. I got the impression Zaridan had done it on purpose.

I watched Sarkin assess the clearing, flickering from me to the group behind us, to the archers on the walls and the locked East Gate. Not that it mattered. He’d been in the market yesterday. He knew another way to get into the city. There were rumors of tunnels beneath Dothik, tunnels that King Arik had once used. Perhaps those?

I wondered how long the Karag had been among us. Since their very first dragons had been spotted? How long had they been gathering information on the Dakkari, waiting for the perfect moment to strike?

And why did that strike happen to begin with me?

“Sleep well,aralye?” he asked, his tone gruff and mocking, raising his brow.

“Perfectly,” I lied. For once, my dreams had been strangely quiet.

Those beautiful eyes dropped to the trunk at my feet. “Where do you think you’re going to put that?”

My hand tightened on the strap of my brown leather satchel. “It’s my clothing.”

Sarkin made a sound in the back of his throat. “It stays. Let’s go.”

Dannik stepped forward and Sarkin’s eyes cut to him. The icy chill in them had me reaching out to squeeze my brother’s wrist, a warning in my own gaze when he looked over at me.

Sarkin looked behind me, directly at my father, assessing the distance he’d put between them. I could almost hear his thoughts. He didn’t think highly of theDothikkar.

“At least you, heir, can look me in the eyes,” Sarkin said, voice rising as he looked at my brother. “Tell your father we will be in contact soon.”

“What is it that you’ll be in contact about?” Dannik growled.

“Our terms” was all Sarkin said, and I could feel my brother’s frustration.

“Fuck your terms. If you hurt her,” Dannik said, his voice so quiet and deadly that even Sarkin stilled to regard him, “I won’t care that you have your dragons at your back. I won’t stop until I find you, Sarkin Dirak’zar.”

The slow spread of Sarkin’s grin made me hold my breath. I felt my brother’s temper snap. Zaridan’s wings gusted again, and I wondered if she could feel the palpable tension in the small clearing.

“Enough,” I said quietly, stepping forward in front of my brother before a brawl began. Sarkin’s eyes fastened on my own when I looked up at him. “I’m ready. Let’s go.”

Did I catch a hint of surprise? I couldn’t be certain as nerves began to rush, making my limbs shaky at the realization of what I was about to do. I hadn’t cried once since last night, and I refused to now…but all I wanted was to curl into a little ball on the wildlands and sob. I was leaving my home, where I’d been with my mother, where she was buried. Leaving Dannik, the city, the archives, Sora—who I wouldn’t get to say goodbye to, all my research, the comfort of my routine. My quiet morning walks along the Spine. My dusky evenings sneaking out on the wildlands.

Sarkin took my chin in his grip, turning my cheek to peer down at my scar. I swallowed loudly, discomfort swirling. I’d pinned back my hair this morning, leaving my scar on full display. And there was a reckless part of me that wanted everyone to see it. I’d hidden it away behind the curtain of my hair for years because it madeothersuncomfortable.

Now? Iwantedmy father to see it, who’d once loved my mother but couldn’t stand to look at me. My stepmother, who’d only ever hated me because I threatened everything she’d built.TheLaseta Kalliri, the high priestess, who I assumed had always known about my abilities and had just been waiting for her own perfect moment to take me away to the North Lands. Now I had a strong suspicion Dannik had helped protect me from her grasp.

Sarkin’s thumb brushed the bottom edge of it, the marking that Zaridan had left on me. He recognized it. And I wasn’t a fool—I knew it had something to do with my being taken away.

The mark throbbed under his touch, making me flinch.

His lips pressed, and for a moment, he looked furious. He grabbed my waist, pushing me toward Zaridan, and I nearly stumbled into her. Standing next to her front clawed legs, as thick as tree trunks in the Ancient Grove, I craned my head to look at the dragon, my mouth bone dry in my fear and awe.

She huffed out a hot breath as I looked into her slitted eyes of gold. Zaridan moved, lowering her left wing, and I watched Sarkin ascend it before seating himself in the worn mount with the silver catches.

Looking back at Dannik, I tried to give him a small smile, but I feared it came out as a grimace.

“Strength,” he reminded me, the soft word meant for me drifting over the distance between us.

I inclined my head, my gaze catching on the trunk at his feet. Another part of me I’d leave behind, clothes I’d lived in every day for years. It felt…wrong. Every part of me was being stripped away, bit by bit.

“Ascend,” Sarkin bit out, voice cold and cutting. “We need to leave.Now.”

---