Page 100 of Bride of the Black Dragon
For a long, breathless moment, I just look into his eyes.
The human one—blue as the heart of a flame—meets mine. But the other… the Drake eye… it’s still dull gray and lifeless.
No… no, please.
Relief and dread crash together inside me so violently I almost can’t breathe. My heart feels too big for my chest, swelling with impossible joy and sharp fear all at once. Xaren is back but his Drake isn’t. That’s not right—not good at all.
I stroke his face gently, my fingers trembling. His skin is still cool as though he’s still on the edge between life and death.
He blinks up at me slowly, his voice rough as gravel.
“Mmm, little dove, I missed you.”
I let out a strangled laugh that sounds half like a sob.
“Xaren, you’re alive!”
“Yes—if you can call it that.” He gives a weak smile, the corner of his mouth barely lifting. His voice is hoarse, a rasp that hurts to hear. “Thank you for rescuing me, though I don’t know how you did it.”
I swallow hard, trying to steady my voice.
“I have a Drake inside me too,” I say softly. “A beautiful white one with white and silver wings. It came out of me when Dorian was trying to burn me at the stake.”
His expression shifts instantly—shock, then fury. His blue eye flashes like lightning.
“He did?” he growls, his voice low and dangerous despite his weakness. “That little bastard—I’ll kill him!”
“Er… there’s no need for that.” I hesitate, biting my lip. How do I even begin to explain this? “He’s… already dead.”
He frowns, confusion crossing his face.
“He is? How?”
“He Shifted into his own Drake after I Shifted into mine,” I explain quietly. “He came after me and when I flamed him, I caught his wings and, well… they crisped up, and he fell. He…” I stop, unsure how to go on. The memory flashes sharp in my mind—the sight of his blackened form tumbling from the sky…the crunch of bones…the pool of blood.
“Tell me, little dove,” Xaren says. His voice is gentle now. “Don’t worry—I won’t be angry.”
“He fell on your mother,” I whisper. “And, well, I’m pretty sure she didn’t survive it.”
I brace myself for fury—for grief—for something terrible. Queen Virelda was awful, but she was still his mother. But instead of getting angry at me, Xaren exhales a long, shallow breath and closes his eyes.
“Good,” he says simply, nodding weakly.
I stare at him, stunned.
“Good? I’m telling you that I killed your family!” I exclaim. “Although I didn’t kill the King,” I add quickly. “Dorian did that with poison—I just happened to see him do it and he blamed the assassination on me.”
“Of course he did—the little bastard.” His voice is stronger now, his jaw tightening. “I say good because it was either you or them, little dove. If you had left either of them alive, they would have hunted you all your days.”
He reaches up slowly—painfully—and cups my cheek in his big, callused hand. His thumb strokes the corner of my mouth. His touch is weak but full of warmth.
“If I have to choose between my mother and brother and you, I choose you, Elaina—every time.”
“Oh, Xaren…” The words come out in a sob. My heart feels too full, breaking and healing at once. “Thank you for not blaming me,” I whisper, pressing my face into his hand.
“Of course not.” He sighs, and his fingers slip away. “It’s not like I’ll be here long enough to hold a grudge.”
For a moment, I can’t comprehend what he’s said. My mind just… stops.
