Page 40 of The Surrender

The roc plunges through the opening, talons, and beak primed. Thiago roars flames again, but the roc takes the hit. It flies right through the fire. Not caring how the flames burn off the first layer of fur and feathers to expose some of that slabbed muscle. If Thiago takes the time to turn, the roc will be on him again.

The monstrous bird closes the distance, opening its beak in a howling screech to signal it’s ready for its prey.

Then, I surge a strong gale at the base of its body. Throw it off its fucking balance before it can find its mark. My winds prove strong when the roc’s lower half tumbles, its wings struggling to stay upright. It’s enough time for Thiago to ascend, get higher above the mountains. I launch wind at his back, giving the dragon more speed while the roc catches up.

I reach him first.

“Any more bright ideas, featherhead?” Thiago fumes, knowing how much I hate the mocking nickname.

I grit my teeth as we crest the next peak. I could take the creature through a dozen more canyons with the same results. Horror splinters through me when I realize its breath doesn’t heat the air at our backs. When I sweep my body in a full revolution, I curse.

“It’s circling back to the village!” I shout, hurling myself forward, striking the air.

Even as I throw another fresh gale at our backs to give us speed, I sense the fatigue in my pinions and in my blood. I’m fucking wavering. Too long since I last bonded with her.

"She has not saved your soul," he cackles through my vocal cords. Anger vibrates through my chest. He’s the last thing I need. "No, I'm the perfect thing you need," he insists, dominating my voice again as if to drive his point home while I rush toward the roc. Bile rises in my throat. "I'll remind you what you told her. You do not need to shed more blood, Ky."

“I won’t let that fucking bird attack my people!” I argue.

The roc is less than a hundred feet from us now. And soaring toward the trees that mark the tree house city. Guilt twists inside me because they wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for me—if it wasn’t for my weakness.

"Sometimes, you must surrender to sacrifice..." hints the fractured part of my being.

“If I sacrifice, I’m fucking dead!” Anger foams at my mouth.

My wind dwindles with every second. Thiago gains on me, surpassing my smaller form.

"Not your sacrifice, Kyan. Not yours...not yet."

His words pierce my chest. I struggle to breathe as Thiago rushes for the roc. But I recognize the creature’s flight patterns, its muscles tensing. It knows the dragon’s nearly upon him.

"Much pain. But not death," he assures me.

“And how can I trust you?” I spit the demand with rage breaking through me. “Our vision is darkened. We cannot see. And you have wanted her to fail since the moment we laid eyes on her in Drago’s court. From the moment we helped her to her feet after our partner had tormented her. And you want me. Suffering in the darkness with you. For eternity.”

He thrashes in my mind, howling a host of curses like a violent storm. But the closer the dragon encroaches upon the roc from behind, the lower and quieter his voice becomes. Like a goddamn whisper in the eye of the storm.

Surrender. Surrender, Kyanatu.

“Thiago!” I yell at my brother and redirect every last iota of the natural wind currents to thrust me up, targeting the precise location I will need to deep-dive.

The dragon falters, jerking its head back to me just as I knew he would. The roc spins on the frontal currents as I knew it would. It sinks its talons into Thiago’s side and digs its mighty beak into the dragon’s back. Thiago roars from the pain. A roar I’ve never heard the likes of before—more of a high-pitched wail. My brother’s agony pierces my heart, but I silence any regrets, remorse, or throbbing guilt.

I’m in position.

Rocs don’t carry their prey back to their nests. They hook on. They grapple until they can gut their food. I’ll gut the bastard first.

Spinning my wings into the tightest cocoon around my body, harvesting every gust possible to surround me with more momentum, and gripping my sword with two hands, I attack from the top. The monster is too busy grappling with my brother to notice me. Wrath rips through my being. A tempest tears through my veins.

I don’t make a fucking sound.

Bringing my sword down, I stab, tunnel, and bore through layers of fur, flesh, and muscle. Down, down, fucking down, I force it! The roc screams. Beak opening. Talons unlocking. But it’s too late for the demon bird to confront me.

One. More. Thrust.

The scream slices off before it can finish. The roc’s eyes turn vacant. Its wings give out. All its muscles, lifeless.

With my sword still buried in the back of its neck, the roc falls hundreds of feet within moments. Crashes against several great trees, felling them in seconds. Great cracks of thunder echo throughout the land from the fall of the monstrous bird. I smirk to myself when I consider how my people will make good use of its corpse.

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