Page 81 of Storm of Blood and Shadow

“What the fuck?” Rahzien is pale beneath his red-gold beard. “You’re not the only one inside that scaly head, are you, prince of dragons?”

I shake my head, trying to dislodge the Mordvorren, struggling to reclaim my throat, my tongue, my voice. With a violent effort, I manage to force its consciousness to the back of my mind. The glow beneath my scales fades, and I’m in control once more.

Rahzien observes me in silence for a moment before speaking again. “A word of advice, Prince. If there’s a force you aren’t strong enough to defy, join with it. Use it. Don’t fight ithead-on, or it will conquer you. You need to come alongside it and twist it to your own ends. Pretend that your goals are aligned, and then, when the moment is right, choke the life from it.”

“As if I would ever take advice from a piece of shit like you.” I leap into the air and rise, leaving him far below.

This was the first time the Mordvorren gained enough control to speakthroughme. It’s a new threshold of danger and risk for everyone around me, and I cannot continue any longer without telling Kyreagan what I’ve done. He and Serylla are attending a ball on the mainland tonight, but they should be returning tomorrow morning. Before then, another dragon will be coming to take over the guard duty of the Ashmount. Once my replacement arrives, I’ll head for Ouroskelle and tell my brother the truth.

By the time I reach Ouroskelle the next morning, I’ve lost my resolve, and I’m half-determined not to tell Kyreagan my secret after all. Perhaps instead I’ll hide in my cave for a while, then head back to the Twin Fangs for a few days to see if I can get myself under better control. But as I head toward my cave, a hideous, cramping pressure builds inside me, a warning of imminent detonation, and I’m forced to head upward and try to expel it by releasing a void orb.

Except, when I attempt to use my void magic, I can’t. Nothing comes out of my throat—no black bubble of the void, no lightning.

The pressure increases, spiking to a sharp pain in my head. The entity inside me wants me to give in. It whispers that relief will come if I yield and hand my mind over to its will.

Instead, I streak higher into the sky, up and up, pushing the limits of my own body. As I gain enough altitude, I feel the Mordvorren’s grip on me relax, and I’m finally able to launch a void orb. A tremor rolls through my body, and I feel the volatile power glowing through my scales again. For one terrifying moment, I’m certain that the clash of the storm and the void inside me is too much, and that I’m about to explode.

A familiar roar from below catches my attention. When I look down, I spot Kyreagan gliding not far away, with Serylla on his back.

So much for slipping away and avoiding this conversation. It looks as if I don’t have a choice now.

Slowly I descend and perch near Kyreagan on top of his mountain.

“You saw that,” I mutter.

“Yes, what the fuck?” he exclaims.

“What he means to say is that he cares about you very much,” Serylla puts in. “We both do. And we’re worried. If you’re in some kind of trouble, you need to tell us. Please.”

“Your concern is appreciated, brother—and little sister.” I dip my head to her. “As much as I hate to admit it, I think you’re right. I can’t handle this on my own any longer.”

“Handle what?” Serylla asks.

“Speak your mind,” Kyreagan urges. “Did the poison affect you differently? Are you ill?”

“Nothing like that. As you know… I have void magic.”

“We’re all familiar with it,” he says dryly.

“I once told Vylar that it felt as if there was a great void inside me, and that I had to keep tight control of it if I didn’t want it to swallow me whole. If it becomes too much for me, I can squeeze pieces off the void—encapsulate bubbles of it—”

“Your void orbs, yes. What are you saying?”

Dread and reluctance flood my soul, so intense that I can barely form words. I’m not sure if it’s me not wanting to disappoint him, or the Mordvorren commanding me to keep quiet.

“You’re going to yell at me when I tell you,” I say.

“Maybe,” replies Kyreagan flatly. “I’ll yell louder if you make me wait for the answer.”

“Very well. You know the Mordvorren lasted a long time.”

“I was there.”

“Right. For some of us, the food supply dwindled painfully low. Jessiva and I ran out of food two days before the end. And I’d seen the amount the others had stocked in their caves. I knew we were all going to starve if the storm didn’t stop. By the time it quit on its own, we might be too weak to hunt or forage.”

I’m not telling him the whole truth. I don’t want him to know how I nearly ravaged Jessiva’s human body—how close I came to raping her as a dragon and then eating her flesh. Admitting that wretched truth is more than I can bear.

“I was desperate to save us,” I continue. “And I had an idea—a stupid fucking idea, more stupid than I realized at the time, and now I don’t know what’s going to happen to me…”

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