Page 84 of Caress of Fire
Isobel crumpled under the weight of her daughter’s betrayal, falling to her knees, long-fingered hands clutching herself in her pain.
“I have been his mate since I was sixteen,” Silva answered, her eyes greedily drinking in her mother’s grief, insanity shimmering clear as day on her face. “You were too busy being the Lady of Aalstad to notice.” She scoffed. “You didn’t even notice when I almost wiped out Lord Aldric Darragon and his Draekarra. Blind, Mother, you were always blind.”
Isobel turned her face away from her daughter and looked at Marielle. Sadness and acceptance washed over her once beautiful features.
“I’m sorry.” Isobel mouthed the words, but not a sound escaped her lips.
Isobel curled in on herself, and sobs shook her entire body. Her long black hair fell over her face and she cried in silence, lost in her failure as a mother. Her failure as a sister. She was a broken woman.
She can’t help us. No one can.
“You know this is madness.” Marielle spoke despite knowing that Isobel wouldn’t side against her daughter. “You have to stop this.”
“She can’t!” Silva stepped between Marielle and Isobel. “No one can stop me now. I have the two most powerful kingdoms in North America, and soon, I will hold more. I will cleanse this land with fire. No human will survive my wrath, no human-loving Delradon and no abomination of mixed blood. My new world will be pure.”
Marielle lowered her head and allowed the despair and pain to wash over her. Her shoulders heaved with soft sobs, and she knew she had lost everything.
Chapter 28
Everywhere he looked the desert was painted red.
Blood. Enough to quench the sand’s thirst and run rivers between rocks and the bodies of the fallen.
Fedryc couldn’t look away from the carnage. Everywhere the eye could see there was a body, eyes already clouding over, looking straight at the blazing sun. Death had followed him to the desert and had made it its home.
The brown feral ripped off another Knat-Kanassis soldier’s head with a great splash of blood. The few who remained at their Lord’s side watched with horror in their eyes. The brown feral roared, his jaws painted with the blood of his victims, savage and untamed in his violence.
The feral had wreaked havoc indistinctly throughout the battlefield, bringing down the Knat-Kanassis army with his fire and fangs, talons and rage, plowing through Fedryc’s men alongside them without pause.
The brown killed as easily as he breathed.
Another furious hiss coming from the ground had Fedryc staring into the red eyes of Chazal, Lord Anion’s dragon. Nyra’s larger body had him pinned down, her talons wrapping around the beast’s throat as he thrashed uselessly. He wouldn’t prevail against her. She was at least twice his size and ten times fiercer, but still the other dragon struggled.
Fedryc’s eyes left Chazal, Nyra and the ongoing massacre to look at the tall, well-muscled Draekon man standing twenty feet in front of him.
“You have lost.” Fedryc raised his dragon blade and lazily swung it at a Knat-Kanassis soldier who ran toward him with his sword raised high. The hooded figure fell to the sand, cut in half from the neck down to his chest.
“I have lost nothing.” Lord Anion held his own dragon-forged blade low, blood running from his sword arm. His silver eyes gleamed with a fanatical intensity as he spoke.
“Your army is no more. Isobel Haal is in my dungeon, along with her dragon.” Fedryc shook his head and took another step forward. “All you can do now is surrender to save the lives of the few of your men who are still alive.”
Lord Anion lifted his sword higher, his face twisting with pain, but the fanatical glee remained in his eyes. He didn’t back away from Fedryc. “Their lives?” He chuckled, his thin mouth curving in a bitter grimace. “Their lives aren’t worth the sand I walk on. You cannot stop the tide of the Knat-Kanassis. We are everywhere. You can kill me. She will avenge me and this entire planet will be washed away by fire.”
“Isobel Haal and her dragon are in my dungeon.” Fedryc took another step until his sword was just out of range of Lord Anion. “If you don’t care about your men then surely you must care about her.”
“Isobel Haal is weak. I never cared about her.” Lord Anion lifted his sword, but instead of attacking Fedryc, he brought the blade against his own throat. His gaze widened and religious fervor made his mouth tremble. “When this entire world has been cleansed of the impure, I will come back from the Night Lands. She promised me that.”
Fedryc shouted and rushed forward but he wasn’t close enough. Lord Anion’s sword sliced through the soft flesh of his throat and blood poured over the pure gray silk. Lord Anion fell to his knees, his eyes wide as his blade dropped to the sand and his hands reached for his throat, grasping uselessly. His expression turned to regret, but only an instant before the veil of death blanketed his face and he fell onto his stomach.
Behind him, Chazal roared and thrashed anew. Fedryc turned his head just in time to see Nyra ripping through the smaller dragon’s throat, cutting it clean out in one mighty bite. The gray dragon fell in a growing pool of red.
The remaining Knat-Kanassis soldiers watched, then all their will to fight deserted them and they ran in a disorganized retreat. Fedryc lifted a hand to his men, signaling not to chase them.
None of them would survive the desert.
The ground trembled as the brown feral approached Nyra, Henron sitting on his neck. Fedryc turned and the vision of the brown’s blood-covered jaws, eyes drunk with violence, filled him with dread.
Then the brown stopped and Henron bent over his neck, speaking softly and rubbing his hand over the dark scales. Fedryc watched with wary eyes as his friend jumped down on the sand and walked over to him, the dragons coming closer to each other behind them. They were completely absorbed in each other, ignoring the fearful soldiers around them who stared at the brown feral with terror.
