Page 3 of The Soul of the Dragon

I don't care what you want. I'm done with you. Not only are you not my brother any longer, but soon you will die at my hand as I avenge my father's death.

Not for a second did I doubt the ferocity of his words. His intentions were clear and as if he wanted to prove it, he lunged for my throat.

I twisted my body into a roll as I dove for the ground. I could feel his thirst for my blood through our twin bond and it instantly became clear that he would not stop coming for me until either I was dead or he was.

This was definitely not part of the plan. Father's sacrifice was going to be impossible to explain to Mother, but the death of her son? She'd probably rip my spine out herself. Everyone always underestimated how cunning and vicious Lillian Ferguson could be. I'd made that mistake once and the punishment for it had been swift.

I would never make that mistake again.

That left only one choice.

I had to leave. And it had to be now.

I beat my wings through the air as hard as I could before wrapping them around me in a death defying dive. The blood of my father had seeped into the sacred ground of this cliff and if I spoke the words now...

It had to work. Otherwise his death would be for naught.

“From the blood of my father, King Ferguson to the realm of the fae beyond,via temporis,ima clamo ad te via spatti Tu ubio, aperire…Aperi.” I whispered, keeping them from my mind.

I couldn't take the chance that Ian could follow me. If I never made it back, there was still the chance he could be reunited with his mate and our mother. They both would need him.

The knife, son. You must take it.

The voice of my father in my mind tore through my heart. If I still had one. At this point that was debatable. However, he was right. The dragon blade was the key to success. I twisted and turned until I got my body angled just right. I was fighting for my life against Ian and hoping this fucking spell would work at the same time.

Isaac!

Another shot of dragon fire accompanied my brother's shout in my mind, barely missing my left wing. The twists and turns it took to evade were wasting precious seconds. The magic of the spell had sparked to life, sending shards of fiery sensation through my veins. But it wouldn't last long. It was now or never.

This is what he wanted.I swear it.

That was the last thought I could send to Ian. He wouldn't believe any of it, but with any luck, my words would haunt him until I returned. The bastard wanted me dead, but for the wrong damned reason.

With the edge of the cliff only yards away, I rolled fifty feet in the opposite direction, evened out two feet above the ground and reached for the blade. The hilt recognized me as my father’s successor and sang its welcoming tune as I grabbed it, pulling with all my strength.

Ian's roar of anguish ripped through me at the same time I realized the blade still clung to my father's flesh and the two of us were headed over the edge of the cliff together.

My heart beat frantically. If he went with me there would be no formal burial on sacred ground. His soul would be lost.

Do what you must. Be a king.

Fuck. Equal parts rage and anguish tore through me as I tucked my wings tighter and dove for the veil. Forgiveness be damned, I had to try.

The darkness ahead winked and shimmered to life, reminding me that I had little knowledge of what I was getting into. But the crazy in me no longer cared as it leapt through the magic that kept one world away from another.

My dead father clutched in its claws.

ChapterOne

Kitra

Holy hellfire, praise the Goddess. I was free.

The door to my cage had popped open. I pocketed the small knife I’d used to work it loose and darted out between the bars.

“What’s going on?” One of the other prisoner’s called out. I jerked in surprise and threw up my hands to create a shield to protect me, only to stumble when the pain of an empty core stole my breath.

The pain of losing all but the most basic forms of magic burned through my blood as I once again reached for that part of me that was as intrinsic as an organ. Imprisoned was one thing. Bound another. I was going to do whatever it took to fix that situation.

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