Page 118 of Wrath of the Dragons
“I haven’t finished reading it,” Zarius tightly answers.
“I don’t care. You’re getting a throne through this, and pulling your ships away from the Galakin border strengthens their commitment to us.”
Zarius opens his mouth to speak, but Saskia cuts him off. “You have nothing to offer us but your name, so sign it.”
His slow blinks are clearly weighed down by too much alcohol, but he grits his teeth. “Let’s get this over with.”
He scribbles his name at the bottom and follows Cayden and me along the edge of the dancefloor where revelers dance to a melody created by sitars, tanpuras, and bansuris. The dancers clap their hands and clang the jewelry on their arms as they weave in between one another.
“ATTACK!” A palace messenger rushes to the top of the steps that the royals just descended, and the dancers awkwardly pause as themusic cuts off. “Thirwen used magic to sneak past our wards and is attacking Zario!”
“Fuck,” Zarius growls under his breath, scrubbing his hands over his face and slapping his hands into his cheeks.
“Stay in the castle, princeling,” I command. “You’re no use to us dead, and you can’t fight a battle after you’ve drunk as much as you have.”
“You’d be surprised how much I’ve survived while inebriated.”
“I’m sure it’s an invigorating tale you’ll have to save for another day,” Cayden says. “El is right.”
The dragons roar overhead, sensing the enemy in the distance as my muscles tense, preparing for the battle miles away in a city we traipsed through mere days ago. It was so full of life and will now be plagued by death. Cayden catches Erix’s eye through the crowd and holds up both signed treaties.
Erix raises his voice above the crowd. “The Dragon Kingdom fights with us! We take our enemy as one!” Cheers and calls for blood ring out, though I doubt many people here will be rushing to the battle. Everyone is nobility and will likely be sending soldiers to fight in their stead. “The gods have shone their favor on Vareveth, and they are on our side in this battle and those to come. For glory and Galakin!”
Cayden hands the treaties off to a servant and takes my hand, leading me back to the others so we can change out of our finery and don extra weapons. I grit my teeth, remembering how badly the last battle ended, and force myself to keep moving forward. If Nykeem is here, I’ll flay his flesh from his bones, and no poison will stop me.
Chapter
Fifty-eight
Cayden
Blood splatters the white buildingsand drips between stones on the street. Smoke hangs heavy in the air, so thick you can taste it in the back of your throat. I push onward, keeping a firm hand on the reins of the borrowed horse from the royal stables. I quickly unsheathe a knife from my thigh and throw it, watching as it pierces the back of a Thirwen soldier chasing down a man carrying his child toward Zraka where they’ll find refuge.
Corpses line the streets—men, women, and children—the closer we get to the beach. Catapults fire flaming rocks into the city, crumbling the buildings and crushing those fleeing for their lives. Calithea roars above us as she locks her claws with a wyvern, shoving it beneath her while bathing it in silver flames. I’ve seen magic wielded and known several legendary warriors, and yet I’ve never seen anything quite as powerful as Elowen mounting a beast that would bring even the bravest person in existence to their knees.
“What’s the plan?” Ryder asks as we make it to the top of the hill that leads to the vast beach, and curses when he takes in the sight. Ships as far as I can see, sand soaked with blood, and more Thirwen soldiers spilling onto the beach as they climb out of rowboats.
“Kill as many as you can and try not to die.”
The feral urge to kill and the instinct to survive flood through me, sharpening my senses to every sword around me both bloodied andsheathed. I lead the Vareveth charge down the dune, and steel sings through the air as I lock my blade with an approaching enemy, unsheathing another knife to slice his throat beneath his helmet. Blood shoots from the slit, spraying my face and dripping down my chin as I push forward.
The ocean splits in two as Calithea burns a line into the surface, swallowing up several rowboats as Elowen sits atop her. An explosion shakes the ground, and I throw my arm over my eyes to keep the sand out of my gaze before unsheathing a second sword. I swing them both, not looking as bodies hit the ground. Everywhere I turn, there’s another enemy pressing forward, but they underestimate how much I enjoy this. I was born for battle and bloodshed. Gore coats my clothes and skin until I look like the monster this world made me into.
A volley of arrows takes out my horse, and I jump off his back before the beast crushes my leg, quickly getting to my feet while slamming my sword through someone’s stomach. I shove them back with my boot to take on the next.
“The bastard king,” he hisses through his blood-splattered teeth as our blades lock in front of my face. The tide laps against my boots as the waves crash against the sand. Messing with your opponent’s mind is half the fun of battle, so I stick my tongue out, gliding it along my bloody lips instead of spitting the blood out.
I raise an unimpressed brow atthe irrelevant soldier.So much blood has been spilled it bubbles on the surface of the tide and shore. He stumbles over a corpse floating face down when he takes a step back and unsheathes a second blade to match me, but it’s shaky in his grip. My father once handed me a rock after I lost a fight and gave me the option to either break my right hand myself or let him do it. I smashed my own fingers that night until they were crooked and gnarled. He wanted me to be equally lethal with both, and it’s clear this soldier didn’t have my same training.
He lets out an unnecessary battle cry, and I knock the sword out of his weak hand, using the same blade to block his other while shoving mine through his mouth.
“In your next life, I hope you offer me more of a challenge.” Blood gurgles up his throat as I yank my blade free, letting his body bleed out and sway in the small waves.
I squint into the sky, watching Calithea flip upside down and drag her claws down the belly of a wyvern. It doesn’t kill it, but there are so many more than last time. I bite the inside of my cheek, unable to tear my eyes away. They’re swarming her, and though the dragons are formidable, my heart nearly stops as I watch Elowen duck under a spiked tail with venomous points before she rears back and hacks it off with her sword.
The beast cries out, and it’s only then that I notice it doesn’t have a rider. None of them do. I tighten my hand on the hilt of my blade and scan my surroundings. For the mages to have the beasts in their thrall, they’d need to be close by, and I doubt they’d risk keeping them on the ships considering the graveyard of wood Elowen left behind in Port Celestria.
The wounded wyvern flies low, and despite its grave injuries, whoever is controlling it must be pushing the beast until its last breath. Its black eyes spot me on the beach where the red tide continues lapping against me. I chuckle under my breath as it begins flying straight at me. Blood continues pouring from its stomach as it coasts even with the surface and pulls its black gums back to expose rows of fangs.
