Page 13 of Court of Secrets and Flames

“Hey!” I run toward the dragon like I’ve lost my mind. “Leave her alone. Come to me!”

As if creating a demented new dance, I wave my arms wildly, every speck of my previous fear melting away in favor of red-hot rage.

Rage at the dragons for endangering Leesa’s life. Rage at Prince Backstabbing Dickhead for his role in this horror show. Rage at King Dickhead for ordering his brother to kidnap me and bring me to this terrible kingdom where murdering people for opposing views and tossing women into arenas with dragons for entertainment seem like perfectly acceptable hobbies. Rage at?—

Another loud, rumbling growl snaps me from my internal rant. Smoke curls from the bigger of the two dragons’ nostrils, and the sulfurous cloud chokes my lungs.

That display serves as my sole warning before the dragon attacks. I dive for the sand and roll as fire roars over my head. The flames travel so close that my entire body erupts in sweat, and I have to pat the back of my head to ensure my hair didn’t fry.

Two pairs of golden eyes narrow to slits as they regard me.

“Lark!” Leesa’s frantic, terrified scream pierces my ears.

In that one word—my name—I hear her love for me. With a sinking feeling, I realize I’ll never get to tell her I love her too. Or stay up late at night with her whispering and laughing as we cram purloined desserts into our mouths. Or practice archery with her until my arms ache.

I’m going to die.

But maybe if I sacrifice myself, these beasts will spare my sister.

Maybe the king will show mercy and remove her from the arena.

Drawing on the elemental magic bubbling in my blood, I conjure a dome of fire around Leesa.

My sister shrieks. “Lark, what are you doing?”

The breddish-brown dragon tosses its head and glares at my little trick. The orange one roars and stomps its front feet. Shrieks erupt from the spectators as the amphitheater trembles.

I take advantage of the diversion and scoop up two handfuls of sand. After sending up a prayer to Ziva for my spur of the moment scheme to work, I shout and jump up and down. “Hey, you ridiculous, overgrown lizards, look over here! Bet you can’t catch me!”

Both heads swing in my direction. The menace gleaming within their golden irises causes my heartbeat to stutter. Maybe the lizard slur was a step too far.

Either way, it’s now or never.

As their giant maws open and reveal orange balls forming in their throats, I toss the sand in the air and summon two streams of fire to blast it at their faces.

Specifically, into their eyes.

Dragons might be mostly immune to heat, but I can at least use my flames to propel the sand much farther and with more accuracy than I can throw it.

Agonized bellows rattle my bones when the sand hits my intended targets. The dragons shut their eyes and shake their heads.

The entire point of this stunt was to buy myself enough time to say goodbye to Leesa, who I can still hear sobbing and yelling from behind the blazing dome. That, and to piss the dragons off so much that once they recover, they’ll ignore my sister completely and focus on incinerating me to a crisp instead.

Still, my heart aches to see her one last time. I start to race in her direction, stumbling as pain assaults me. Pain, and a wave of dangerous fury.

A third, less noxious emotion slips in alongside the others, conjuring a glowing, reluctant warmth.

Respect?

As external emotions continue to assault me, I stop short and curse myself. King Jasper’s words ring in my ears.

“Rumors abound that you’re a dragoncaller. We’ll soon know if the rumors are true. You have one objective. Keep yourself and our guest alive.”

Due to the shock and terror of seeing my sister for the first time in months under such terrible circumstances, my mind didn’t fully process Jasper’s words or what he hoped to accomplish with this hideous exhibition.

Using my special ability to communicate with dragons probably should have been my go-to for leaving the arena alive today. In my defense, my dragoncaller talents are new to me and untrained. Hells, less than a week ago, I didn’t even realize this type of magic existed.

The stress of my sister getting led into the arena like a sacrificial lamb certainly did nothing to aid my thinking.

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