Page 98 of The Healing Dragon
“He’s not counting on me to have it. What better than the element of surprise?”
Roman pulls at his hair in frustration. “I already called for them. They will find a way to get here soon. I know it.”
“We don’t know that. We’re sitting ducks in a building full of scared people.” Amy Bee looks back at the crowd. “Brandon entrusted me and I would like to say it is due to my judgment. I say we do it. He will understand why.”
Roman gives me a pleading look, but it’s not enough to change the events about to happen.
“These people have been through enough. Allow me to do right by them.” I step closer to Amy Bee. “I got it from here.”
I open my palm and she drops it there. I feel the restraint of power behind the glass like it knows who is holding it. The magic sealed inside can’t wait to get home. I close my fist tighter until the glass breaks in my palm and the power slips into my bloodstream through the cuts in my hands.
The shock of power snaps goosebumps on my skin and spreads within seconds. My vision sharpens, my surroundings slow, and my breathing settles as the familiar all-vivid weight under my skin seeking freedom reaches my fingertips, waiting for release.
“Did it work?” Roman stares at my bloody hand.
I grin up at him and that is all the confirmation he needs. My gaze shifts to the waiting faces inside the dining hall. I memorize as many as my eyes can find. I know I won’t find Oli, Jesse, Matias, Bianca or Brandon, but as I turn around, I count them into my total reasons for doing this.
“Janelle, I know you got this, but a little help can’t hurt.” Roman hands me a sword from his baldric. “Remind him that the Duelo dragons are born, not bonded.”
Despite however much my father would like to believe he’s the Lord Duelo, he would only be as close as marriage would allow him. The blood running through his veins is not blended with fire. His magic can never conjure what my brother’s and mine can.
“Don’t go soft on me now.” I take the sword in hand and pass it from hand to hand, registering the weight of it. For its size and vibration of magic, it’s surprisingly light.
I relish on the blessing of being able to feel magic again. A thing I never thought of twice.
“I am ready,” I say.
Roman leans closer to my ear and whispers, “I’m glad to have become someone you deem worthy of saving.”
“I’m glad I get the opportunity to do things right,” I whisper back.
I look ahead and match my father’s impatient frown.
“What is this?” He gestures in my direction as I close the distance.
The guards standing in line break formation to let me pass. Nods of respect in my direction are the only sign that they know what is happening. The blood trailing down my hand into the sword at my side must make a delightful sight.
“Let me make you a deal, old man,” Roman shouts from his post “If you can take her, then you can have her.”
I cross past where the shield once stood. My father stares me down from his place at the front of his dark legion of traitors. His disapproving gaze moves from my sword to my face.
“I know you did not come all the way here just for me,” I say as I take my place a few feet before him.
I gesture to the men behind him. This attack must have been in the works long before I showed up at his keep. Requesting for me to face him must be a distraction or the beginning of his actual plan. Regardless, I know my fatherenjoys boasting about his successes and, from the smirk on his face, this is going according to his plans.
His eyes trace every step I take, and every move I make.
“You might have something right about that.” He looks behind him and smiles like a shared joke among friends. “But your survival has caused a lot more trouble than anticipated. It needs to stop.”
The realization of his words hit me, and I almost lost my footing. The appearance of the royal offspring with the news of Ignis calling for me was just earlier today, but the outrage of the city has been happening for longer.
“My survival?” I ask, inclining my head.
“Do I truly need to say it?” My father looks bored. “I should’ve expected that your connection with the Oscuro boy would prove troublesome. It has always been that. But I never expected Brandon Oscuro to let you live. Kings don’t forgive traitors.”
His plan was always to have us all die the night of the attack. My brothers and I were never meant to walk out. The lack of anger at losing his two oldest children finally makes sense. It was at his own hand.
“Why?” I can’t help the word slip from my lips.
