Page 85 of Caress of Fire
“Henron.” Fedryc locked gazes with his old friend as he stopped in front of him. “I did not think I would see you again.”
“Me neither.” Henron smiled, but it was strained. “I still don’t understand what happened, but the brown and I, we bonded.”
Fedryc stared at Henron, at the subtle change in his body, the power radiating from him, shimmering in the air like hot air above a bonfire.
“So this is the end. The Knat-Kanassis are dead, or soon to be for those who ran.” Henron cast a wide glance over the battlefield. Thousands upon thousands of bodies littered the desert sand, broken or burnt to ashes. Not a trace of pity showed on Henron’s face as he looked at his Bound’s work. This was such a contrast to his old self that Fedryc eyed him with a sudden careful assessment. There was no telling how much of the dragon’s feral savagery had leaked into Henron’s mind when they’d linked together like long separated pieces of the same soul.
Henron might not have died, but his friend was not the same man.
“No, it is not.” Fedryc spoke carefully. “I thought Isobel was the traitor in my house, but she wasn’t.”
“Then who? It had to have come from Lord Aymond’s old household.” Henron’s voice was cold as he stared at Fedryc’s men, who came closer to see the miracle of a Draekon made and not born. “There is no one else.”
She was very beautiful. But her dragon was all wrong. It was small, and it looked like a jewel.
How could he have not seen it? It was never Isobel.
“It’s Silva!” Fedryc locked gazes with Henron for a second before running.
Because the snake was still in his house. And it was about to strike.
* * *
A great noiseof flapping wings filled the throne room, reverberating off the curved ceiling. Marielle looked up from her despair to see Silva’s face light up. The Draekon girl stared down at Marielle with a predatory grin.
“It is done. Lord Anion is back.”
Marielle dropped her head back down. There was nothing more to do but wait for death to come. She was done fighting.
Silva walked past her and in her wake, the golden dragon, Hyrio. Silva didn’t look back. Marielle was already dead in the girl’s eyes.
Marielle’s hand gripped her stomach protectively, even though she knew it was futile. She was nothing against a Draekon.
I’m so sorry.
Shouts came from the far end of the throne room. Marielle lifted her eyes to see Silva, standing in the middle of the room in stunned surprise as men in gray flooded the area, fear in their eyes and panic on their faces.
They dragged a bloodied man, his head hanging loosely on his chest, his feet dragging lifelessly on the stone floor, leaving two streaks of bright red blood.
Lord Anion. And he was obviously dead.
“Close the doors!” the guard on Lord Anion’s left shouted, looking over his shoulder with frightened eyes. The guards dropped him unceremoniously on the floor and the man fell face first on the stone with a sickening, wet sound.
The same guard turned to the door, pulling his curved sword out of its scabbard. “They’re coming!”
A high-pitched scream filled the room as Silva rushed to Lord Anion’s side. She turned the much larger man onto his back with a pained moan, then screamed some more as she cradled the Draekon man’s head in her hands.
Marielle watched, unable to stifle her jolt of pity for the girl who had just plotted the death of everyone she loved.
Silva wailed, high and loud, bending over the lifeless body of her mate, grabbing his clothes in her clenched fists. From somewhere high above the throne room, a terrible roar shook the stone of the mountain. Pebbles detached from the ceiling as the roar turned into a deafening crash.
Rocks were shredded like cabbage, and the castle shook in its foundation.
Dragon. That had to be a dragon. But that roar, that feverish anger—Marielle didn’t think it could be Nyra. Nyra was strong and wild, but not so much as to shred an entire castle with its inhabitants inside it.
It’s him. It’s the feral brown dragon.
The thought made Marielle’s heart quicken, and fear battled with a bitter satisfaction in equal measure inside of her. Silva might still kill her and everyone she loved, but she wasn’t getting what she wanted. There would be no Aalstad left to rule after the beast was done.
