Page 25 of Wrath of the Dragons
Sorin lands beside us and cries out like he’s in pain. I draw two daggers from the sheaths on my thighs, and rush toward him…but there’s no threat. His claws leave gashes in the snow as he paces, andhis head thrashes side to side before tipping back to roar.
“Sorin.” I sheathe the blades and run my hand along his leg. “You’re all right. You’ll be back with the others soon.”
“I don’t think it’s that,” Saskia says as Sorin sinks his claws into the earth on either side of me. “We’re in godly land. Creatures sense things we can’t.”
“But they’ve been in godly land before,” I say. “They were fine after Cayden and I released them.”
“They were coming out of confinement.” Cayden sheaths his sword. “Anything feels better than a cage.”
I nod, knowing how true that statement is. “We’ll make our visit as swift as possible, but I should go to Nyrinn first. That’s where Lycus will be.”
I slide my hand down Sorin’s scales one last time before he takes flight, and I lead our battalion away from the misty wall in the distance that keeps the kingdom hidden and turn toward Aestilian one final time.
Chapter
Twelve
Cayden
Beyond the forest stands avillage made of several cottages built around icy rivers and winding dirt roads. Smoke rises from chimneys and candlelight shines through several windows bordered by colorful shutters. Mountains reach high into the sky all around us, and a waterfall tumbles down one of the staggering cliffs in the distance.
“Gods,” Saskia breathes, her boots crunching in the snow beside mine. “This place is beautiful.”
I say nothing, not denying or confirming her statement as I keep my eyes on the back of Elowen’s head, pulling away only to scan the surroundings. Sure, I suppose it’s charming, but I’ll never be able to overlook the way Elowen has spoken of the burden on her shoulders. My goal with moving these people is to makeher lifeeasier, not theirs.
She is the only reason I’m here, not because it’s the right thing to do. Morals would’ve gotten me killed if I held them in high regard.
Reminiscing is pointless aside from using it to feed my anger, but as I watch a mother and son sip from mugs, buried in blankets while watching the sunrise, I can’t help but think of my own mother. What would her life have been if she had left my father? If we’d found a place like this? I can still hear her screams, the way she choked on her own blood. Bitterness so potent it would sour the sweetest fruit curdles my stomach.
I’ve been forced to mourn her longer than I knew her. My fatherdidn’t even bury her after she died; for all I know she was burned, buried in an unmarked grave by the villagers, or left for an animal to feast upon.
I’d never belong in a place like this. Since the moment that Imirath soldier carved my face open, I’ve burned with an anger that grows by the day. Sometimes I feel as if I’m in this world, but I’m not of it. I was forged by hatred and sharpened in violence. I’ve survived everyone who has tried to kill me, and though I killed parts of myself to achieve such victories, I’d walk through this world as a corpse before I let an enemy escape me.
Being blessed by the God of Death is a laughable notion. The gods have no place in my life. They never have.
“Cayden.” Saskia lowers her tone, slowing her steps slightly to keep our conversation private. “With Aestilian off Elowen’s mind, we’ll need to discuss Imirath’s succession.”
I grind my teeth, recalling when Elowen told me she has never wanted a permanent place in Imirath. Falling for her was never supposed to happen. I was supposed to take my revenge—kill Garrick, sign a treaty, and dust my hands of it, but that’s impossible now. “I’ll talk to her when we’re home.”
“Garrick has no other children? Not even bastards?” she rushes out, and if her concern wasn’t so clear, I’d walk away.
“A bastard will never have a stronger claim than a legitimate daughter,” I say. “And no, he does not.”
From the corner of my eye, I watch as Saskia shoves her hands into her coat pockets. “I’ll try to find out what’s being discussed in Imirath. At least Elowen will have more information when it comes to making a decision.”
Ryder gestures for Saskia to catch up as Finnian leads her and my soldiers to what I assume is the guard house. My strides quickly eat up the distance between me and Elowen, and I lace her arm through mine to keep her from slipping on any ice patches. I ignore the way people peek out of their windows to get a look at us, some even throwing their doors open and rejoicing for their returned queen.
Elowen tightens her hand on my arm, looking up at me with the kind of smile one might wear when bringing their lover home. “Smile, demon. You got us into this mess, so play your part.”
“I hardly smiled before we were betrothed, and it didn’t stop people from believing I’m in love with you.” I look down at her when she flinches, but her expression hasn’t wavered.
“My people will not be so easily fooled.”
I grasp her chin with my free hand. “If you want me to kiss you, all you have to do is ask.”
A flush creeps up her neck as she glances at my lips. “Don’t flatter yourself.”
“I’m just offering a way to strengthen our image.” She glares at me before turning to knock on the door we’ve stopped in front of. “You know how much it enlivens my day to see your vexation written so plainly on your pretty features.”
