Page 75 of Court of Secrets and Flames

Each image below reveals a chapter of a childhood steeped in legend and legacy, all of them labeled.

Father chasing away the bad dragon

Father saving Mother

Father and me flying

Jasper and me waving at Father in the sky

Jasper helping me hide

Jasper with his sword protecting me

It’s all here, captured in childhood’s caricatures. However, it’s the illustrations of both boys that grip my heart the hardest. Those drawings clearly convey how much young Knox revered his brother. How much he relied on him to keep him safe.

Instead, Jasper sent him away.

My gaze wanders to another set of drawings. These depict two boys accompanied by a smaller, long-haired figure, and when I figure out who it’s supposed to represent, the knowledge nearly destroys me.

Knox’s little sister. Yet another casualty of the attacks that stole me from Tirene and killed my father.

“He was a good older brother, when we were younger. He played with me and rarely got annoyed when I followed him around. And everyone doted on Serena.” Knox’s wordscome haltingly, as if they’ve been locked up for so long, he’s forgotten how to say them. “Even before the attacks, though, Father insisted on drills. The trumpets would blare, and we,” he gestures to the small beds, a pained smile flickering across his face, “were to grab Serena and sprint here without hesitation.”

His gaze drifts around the room, touching on each relic of the past. For a moment, I see the young princes and princess in his eyes, scrambling for safety, their hearts pounding with urgency, their little faces alight as they achieved the goal of reaching this hidden room.

“Jasper tried to make it into a game.” He continues to rotate, soaking it all in. “Serena’s and Father’s deaths changed all of us. We were never the same afterward. My mother completely cracked and refused to leave her bedchamber, and Jasper had to grow up overnight. After that, hiding was no longer our role. We were expected to stand and fight. I miss my sister and father, but what’s almost worse? Missing my brother and mother when they’re still here.”

The echo of pain coating his words causes my chest to burn. He tracks the patterns of the worn rug beneath us. His fists clench the belt cinched at his waist, keeping his hands from reaching out to these markers of his past. Even now, in this hidden space, he holds himself tight.

I close the distance between us, my hand gentle but firm under his chin, lifting it so I can convey my deep, genuine gratitude for this glimpse into his past. Into him. “Thank you. For trusting me with your memories.”

His throat works on a swallow as he grunts an unintelligible answer.

My fingers tighten ever so slightly, ensuring his full attention. “But you should know, I won’t run. I refuse to hide when danger comes.”

Resignation passes over him, a nod to the inevitability of my words. He understands my spirit too well by now, yet he shows a rare and precious vulnerability.

He ducks away as if to conceal the emotion brimming in his gaze.

I reach out, unable to let this moment go. “Knox. Sterling.”

At the sound of the name I called him back at Flighthaven, he shudders.

This is the first peek he’s given me of Knox the boy. Lost. Broken. Unsure. He wears so many masks, and I’ve yet to discover which one is the real him. The hard, unrelenting man I met at Flighthaven. The teasing, sarcastic friend who likes to argue just to see me riled. The passionate, attentive lover who worships every inch of my body.

Perhaps they’re all him. Parts of the whole.

Here in this secret place, we’re stripped away of everything. No pretense. No responsibilities. We’re not a dragoncaller and a prince. We’re just two people, two souls, with an undeniable connection.

I lean in and press a soft, tender kiss to his lips.

At first, he seems caught off guard. His mouth moves tentatively against mine. The sensation that blossoms inside me goes beyond the blind lust that’s always simmering between us. He opens up to me, and my tongue explores his mouth. Fiercely sweet, we learn each other as if it is our first time.

And in some ways, it is. The first time I kissed him, he was Sterling Thorne, my flight instructor. A man who didn’t exist, acting on orders from a king he didn’t necessarily trust but never stopped loving. The man I am kissing now is Prince Knox Barda, current heir to the throne of Tirene.

Just as I am no longer Lark Axton, Flighthaven recruit and hidden daughter of the Axton family. I am Lady Lark Axton Drago, dragoncaller and prophesied martyr.

Though I pray with all I am that the martyr part is wrong and I don’t have to die.

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