Page 72 of King of Flames and Shadows

At my back, Arvoren roars his unadulterated fury, his fear, into the vast, broiling night.

The inner halls are a swarm of soldiers and refugees—it’s hard to tell the difference anymore—all trying to escape, every step echoing with the metallic clatter of my chains against stone.It’s so hard to run with them. The air is thick with smoke, dust, and the mingled cries of the wounded, punctuated by the clash of steel and the roar of dragons overhead.

In the frantic rush, a guard catches sight of me, struggling to push past the throngs.

“My Queen!” he shouts over the din, reaching for my arm. “You need to get to—”

The wall beside us explodes inward with a shower of stone and wood. I’m thrown back, slamming hard against the floor as dust and debris rain down around us.

Stars appear everywhere, blinking in and out around me. My head swims, ears ringing. I see the guard lying beneath a broken beam, his outstretched hand lying still, eyes wide and glassy.

Survive,howl the women who haunt me, my ancestors—my mother, my grandmother, all that they sacrificed for me to be here now, to be living.Survive, survive, survive, survive.

I push to my feet, disoriented, the weight of my chains dragging heavily with each step as I lurch down the corridor. The hallway opens up into a broad balcony that overlooks the inner courtyard. Just as I reach it, another crash shakes the stones beneath me, sending me stumbling forward. I grab on to a pillar, steadying myself, and turn back toward the gaping hole in the castle wall.

Through the jagged breach, I glimpse the deadly, tangled forms of Ulric and Arvoren, scales flashing as they claw and tear at each other. Their bodies twist in the air, monstrous wings beating furiously. Suddenly, Ulric’s massive jaws snap around Arvoren’s neck, the snarl of his rage reverberating through me, primal and raw, shaking my bones. Arvoren struggles, but Ulric’s hold tightens, pulling him down toward the castle walls.

The balcony trembles under my feet, a tremor running up through the stone. Cracks spread across the floor, winding up the walls with a sound like splintering ice. I barely have time to gasp before, with one final shudder, the floor buckles and collapses beneath me.

Instinctively, I lurch forward, hands grasping for anything solid as my footing drops out. For one heart-stopping moment, there’s only empty air. Then my fingers find a support beam, and I cling to it desperately, the rough stone tearing into my hands. My feet dangle over the void, the chains wrapped around my ankles pulling me downward, their weight relentless. I grit my teeth and hold on, every muscle burning with effort as the beam shudders and cracks above me.

Below, Millrath spreads out in a chaotic landscape of flames and shadows, the city’s streets a river of fire and ash, thick smoke smothering the skyline. My arms strain with the effort of holding on, and I feel the beam shifting beneath my fingers, groaning under the strain. Stone dust rains down around me as splinters snap free, tumbling down into the night.

Above me, the night darkens with the shadow of a dragon. It’s Ulric. His silver scales glint coldly in the firelight as he hovers, his massive wings blocking the flames below for a heartbeat. His gaze settles on me with a terrifying stillness, and his mouth opens, fire gathering in his throat, green and blindingly bright.

My heart seizes, panic surging as I twist and kick, trying to free myself, but the chains bite into my ankles, catching on the broken stones of the collapsing wall. The beam under me creaks, barely holding, as Ulric rears back, the inferno growing in his mouth, ready to strike. The air around me thickens, blistering with heat.

Suddenly, in a flash of red scales and fury, Arvoren slams into Ulric from the side. A roar shatters the night as they collide, red and silver scales flashing as they twist and snarl, locked in a brutal spiral. Ulric’s flames streak past me, grazing the stones, so close the heat sears my skin and singes my clothing. The gust from their clash sends me swinging wildly from the beam, my hands slick with blood and grit as I cling to it, each heartbeat louder than the one before.

Arvoren circles back, his golden eyes locked on Ulric with feral intensity. But Ulric lashes out with his tail, catching Arvoren across the chest, and Arvoren spirals down, losing control as he struggles to regain altitude. My heart pounds as I see three more dragons banking toward him, their forms shadowed against the flames. They close in, hemming him in with merciless precision. Arvoren fights back, his roar filling the night, but he’s tiring. I can see blood streaking his red scales, each beat of his wings more strained than the last.

“Arvoren!”

The scream tears from me, raw and desperate, only to be swallowed by the storm of flames and the clash of wings above. He’s faltering; I can’t reach him.

The beam cracks again, and I slip, my fingers scraping against rough stone, losing my hold inch by inch. The chains bind my ankles, adding impossible weight as I dangle over the inferno below. My arms shake with exhaustion, and I feel myself slipping, the jagged edges of stone tearing into my hands. The city below is a nightmare, flames licking at the shadows, the streets a churning underworld of soldiers and ash and blood.

The beam finally gives a groan of surrender and begins to split beneath me. In the moment before I fall, I know: this is it. My hands grasp frantically, scraping for anything solid, butthere’s nothing left to hold onto. With a final crack, the beam snaps, and I’m falling, the chains pulling me down into the empty air, nothing between me and the ground but the dizzying plunge into smoke and fire.

In that moment of weightlessness, I feel a strange clarity: maybe this is freedom, after all.

Chapter 35 - Arvoren

"No!"

The word tears from my throat like dragonfire as I watch Calliope plummet from the castle's edge, her form growing smaller against the inferno below. My wings strain as I try to dive after her, but three of House Draven's dragons block my path, their scales flashing silver in the firelight. Behind them, Ulric circles, his massive form casting shadows over the burning city.

Time seems to slow, crystallizing into a single, terrible moment: Calliope falling, chains glinting as they drag her down, her dark hair streaming upward like smoke. Then, she vanishes into the chaos below, swallowed by flame and darkness.

Something breaks inside me. Something fundamental and irreparable.

The rage that fills me is older than thought, deeper than draconic magic, deeper than even my bloodline, my life force. It burns through my veins like fire, consuming everything but the need to destroy.

My roar shakes the very foundations of the castle, and when I launch myself at the nearest dragon, my claws find purchase in softer scales, tearing through flesh and bone.

I barely register the creature's death scream as I throw its body aside. The other two try to flank me, but I'm beyond caring about strategy or survival. Fire builds in my chest, and I let it loose in a torrent that turns one dragon's wings to ash. It falls, spiraling into the darkness, its companion breaking formation to avoid the same fate.

"Brother!"

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