Page 134 of Wrath of the Dragons
I’m wide awake, and I don’t plan on sleeping a wink, not wanting to miss a second of savoring the feeling of Elowen’s heart pulsing against mine.
Tomorrow I’ll become the worst version of myself to fight for our future.
But tonight, all I am is hers.
Chapter
Sixty-six
Elowen
I tie my braid off, flickingit over my shoulder and letting it fall down my back. A golden House Veles sigil rests at the center of my forehead along a simple band. The same knives I’ve strapped to my legs every day rest against me, and I don black armored accents over my blue tunic for extra protection—a steel chest plate; shoulder, arm, and thigh guards all designed with draconic elements. They’re thinner than a foot soldier’s armor in favor of mobility while I ride, but still strong.
I’ve fought for my crown, bled for my kingdoms past, present, and future, and I will have my vengeance. I think of the dungeon, can smell the coppery blood pooling on the floor, hear chains rattling and the taunts of my father’s guards, and feel a cane slapping into my flesh. I force myself to conjure the image of my dragons being dragged away from me, to feel the burning of my throat as I screamed.
I will not cease until the city flows with red rivers of my making. The princess of destruction can rise from the ashes as the queen of salvation.
The tent flaps part, and Finnian dips inside. He’s wearing a full suit of armor with his bow strapped across his chest and a sword at his waist. “Scouts have reported the enemy has mobilized. Cayden sent a summons for all rulers to attend one final council meeting before the battle commences.”
I nod, checking on my crossbows to ensure they’re loaded properly, and swing a quiver of arrows over my shoulder. He holds the tent open for me and I hand my weapons off to a waiting soldier. “Attach these to Venatrix’s saddle. I’ve already handled all the others.” I let her see my eyes glow gold for good measure as I issue the command through the bond. “I’ve commanded her to let you approach, so you have nothing to fear, but don’t linger.”
“Yes, my queen.” The woman bows, her black-and-blue armor glinting in the sun as she follows my orders.
The camp is a series of tents in the house colors of our allied forces: blue, red, and orange. Finnian leads me to the largest structure, with three peaks at the top, and though my leathers are lined with fur, the fire blazing within is welcomed. Cayden’s helm rests on the table, as does the sword I gifted him for the winter solstice, and his obsidian armor easily makes him the largest man here.
Our generals bow their heads as I pass them, taking my place beside Cayden at the center of the long slab of wood covered in a map of Zinambra. The silver armor and red capes worn by Zarius and his generals are a stark contrast to Galakin’s gold.
“You won’t be with the fleet?” I ask Zale, taking note of his heavy plate. Naval soldiers favor leathers, considering they’ll sink like a rock if they fall overboard.
“I’ll be leading a battalion into battle. I want Thirwen and Imirath to see that their enemies are united against them on all fronts,” he responds. “However, my fleet is mobilized.” He points to the southern tip of Imirath. “There are no sightings of ships from the southern isles and our goal is to surround the fleet. If they flee to shore—”
“I’ll burn them alive. They’ll be like sitting ducks on the beach,” I state before turning to Cayden. “I can command two dragons to remain with the army.”
“No, you need to utilize their full force to monitor as much ground as possible. We cannot risk Garrick or Fallon escaping on a boat and raising supporters elsewhere. This war ends today.”
“We should march soon,” Ryder states. “It won’t be long beforethey reach us, and they’ll have an advantage if we don’t get to the top of the hill.”
“We will march soon, but we’ll be marching to the base of the hill we stand upon,” Cayden answers, and the tension grows within the silent tent as seasoned soldiers glance at one another.
“The base of the hill?” Ser Rhys asks. “I beg your pardon, Your Highness, but—”
“Mind your tongue and there will be no reason to beg,” Cayden cuts him off.
Rhys bristles. “I’m aware you have experience, but standing at the base of a hill is suicidal.”
“We will see Cayden’s plan through,” Zarius cuts in, and I manage to keep the surprise off my face. “He is the most notorious swordsman and would not have become the demon of Ravaryn through faulty plans.”
Cayden dips his chin, and Zarius does the same. Something unknown to me is communicated through their eyes. Though it seems it’s unknown to all of us. If I didn’t trust Cayden to lead the ground forces, I’d pull him aside and demand to know what he’s thinking, but even before I knew Cayden, I knew of him. His mind is as lethal as his sword.
“We would be fools to believe Imirath and Thirwen don’t have as many scouts monitoring our camp as we have theirs, and not every plan can be spoken aloud,” I say. “Cayden will not begin this battle at a disadvantage. If you can trust in anything, you can trust in his reputation.”
Ser Rhys bows but doesn’t say anything as battle horns blare in the distance, accompanied by the sound of thousands of boots and hooves slamming into the earth.
“Garrick and Fallon were not sighted with their armies, and I imagine their queens are with them,” Cayden says to me. “Do what you must to force them out. I’ll command a battalion to search the field for Nykeem and eliminate him. I’ll be ready for the rulers when they flee the castle upon your assault.”
I nod before glancing to Zarius. “As I said, the fates of the rulers of Thirwen will be up to you.”
“Nobody marches before my command,” Cayden states. “Any who disobeys will be shot down on my order. Ensure your soldiers are aware of this and begin preparations.”
