“Back to the Fortress!” I scream at the wings, and they beat harder than ever, pitching upwards. The beast rushes past, jaw snapping shut, those teeth passing so close to my arm I could touch them.

But the stream of air produced by the dragon’s massive, leathery wings whips me further up, hurling me through the night like a butterfly in a storm.

The dragon lets out a frustrated screech, and then banks, coming for me again. I stare at it diving toward me, my heart hammering like mad while my tiny wings shed more and more stardust.

“Faster!” I beg them.

The dragon surges up from below, its deadly mouth in direct line with my body.

Three seconds away.

Two.

One.

I’m dinner.

My wings disappear without a warning.

I’m in free fall again. Darkness swooshes around me as the ground rises to meet me once again. Air rushes past me as I plummet toward my certain death. Above me, I hear the click of those massive teeth as they rip into nothing but air.

I hit the ground. Hard.

I brace for the impact with my elbows, shielding my head. Searing pain shoots through my knees and a scream rips from my throat. I blink, fighting to keep from blacking out. My bones sing. I try to move my limbs, one by one, my toes, my fingers. Everything hurts like hell, but nothing seems to be broken.

I dare to glance down between my hands.A terrace.I’ve landed on one of the many terraces.

Above me, the beast screeches again, and I scramble to my feet, grab the sword that landed somewhere next to me, and sprint toward the door. I feel wards as I splay my fingers against the metal of the door, cool and smooth like an invisible wall of ice. The tattoo on my wrist warms and the wards ripple briefly before they let me through. Stunned, I tumble inside.The tattoo did this.It works like a key.

I try to catch my breath while my eyes scan the room, my fist closed tight around the hilt of the sword. Kyrith’s scent invades my nostrils, and I panic briefly before I realize that I’m in his room. He’s not here, but everything smells of him.

I cross the vast room in a few strides but stop at a table where various weapons and scabbards are neatly laid out, polished and honed to perfection. I grab a leathery, black scabbard, sling it over my shoulders, and sheathe the sword between my shoulder blades. Then I head for the door and rip it open. Again it’s the new tattoo that opens it before I have to break through those wards, saving me precious time. I need to get out of the Fortress. I need to get away before Caryan recovers.

I clamp down on my desperation, my fear of what will happen if Caryan finds me.He won’t,I cut my spiraling thoughts off.I’ll be long gone. End of story.I don’t allow myself to think of another option.

I stagger into a corridor and run.

I know my way. And for some miraculous reason, like on my first night, not a single soul crosses my way as I sprint through the Western quarters.

I don’t know what would happen if someone did. I’m glad I don’t have to let myself find out, with that strange new force still thrashing and roaring under my skin, all too eager to shred and rip and burn.

I shove it down and cross the patio to the kitchen.

I’m still shaking, flinching at every sound that travels through the endless corridors, every sense in me alert. My heartbeat; feverish.

Then footsteps. Long strides. Coming close. Too close, too fast.

My eyes scan the corridor, desperately trying to find somewhere to hide, but there are only smooth, cold walls and the door to Riven’s quarters to my right.

Just then Riven cuts around the corner. His eyes widen when he takes me in.

I just stare back at him, backing down when he nears. He looks disheveled and drunk, his hair irreverent, and the kohl under his eyes slightly smeared, but his eyes are sober.

“Melody, what…” His voice is breathless and tinged with worry as he looks at me.

I just shake my head, unable to speak, unable to form words.

He must see the horror in my gaze, because his face changes, hardening as he gestures to his quarters. The door swings open.