Three Dramens came at us with weapons over their heads for a kill. Dris blocked one sword with hers, sweat dripping from her shimmering face as she gritted her teeth from the force of clashing steel. Tor engaged in battle with another, summoning enough strength to block, punch, and kick the Dramen’s legs out from under him. His hand grasped an arrow and dug its pointed blade into the neck of the evil man. Emrys threw his only dagger into the chest of the other.
“Shit,” he said. The hungry crowd of bloodthirsty Dramens wanting revenge came out of the smoke, right for us . . . with the king of the feral people at its center.
Chapter Fifty-Five
“Desmire! Rune!” I screamed, the panic in my voice was not forced or fake but terrifyingly real. We could not fight off this small army.
“We’ve got maybe thirty seconds until our blades clash with theirs.” Dris shook with fear as she lifted her sword, preparing for battle.
My eyes met with Tor’s. There was so much we needed to say, feelings to talk about, and answers to hear.
“You came for me,” he said, trying to make me feel better . . . always trying to bring me out of the dark place in my head that threatened to crush me.
“I did.” Now we would all die together. I raised my sword at the roaring creatures who wanted to feast on our blood.
A lifeless body was flung into view on our right, and the stones beneath my feet quivered as a large werewolf stepped in front of me. His sharp teeth and rippling roar stopped the Dramens. Blood dripped from Rune’s claws, and I knew his teeth would be the same. Suddenly, a black mass dropped from the sky with large wings spread wide, crushing the stones beneath the weight.
Desmire attacked, shooting fire at the crowd. He swiped his large spiked tail toward the fleeing people who shot at him.
“Get on! Now!” I screamed, and my friends began to run.
Rune’s snout lifted, baring teeth like he was about to growl at his brother but then stopped when I grabbed onto his hand and pulled him toward the dragon. We needed to leave before we lost our chance. Rune made sure everyone was loaded on Desmire first, before stepping onto the dragon’s hand again. I smiled from the victory. We’d actually done it.
Out the corner of my eye, I saw the Dramen queen with a spear in her outstretched arms. Everything moved in slow motion as I watched the weapon leave the queen’s hands. Desmire’s vast wings began to rise, his feet lifted, a position ready to shoot us into the sky. The queen’s face held a smile on her lips, as the spear flew straight and true toward my wildly beating heart.
“No!” Tor screamed; his hand reached out to stop the spear but the queen had made a calculated move. Desmire’s body lifted, and I was going to be in the spear’s path. A mass of black fur blocked my sight, almost knocking me off Desmire. A high-pitched howl ripped my world into shreds as a metal blade protruded through the gut of the werewolf hovering over me. Rune’s eyes closed, and his mouth went slack.
“Grab him!” Tor said, and Dris and Emrys shot into action. Rune was falling, the spear in his gut going with him, and no one was quick enough to grab him.
“Desmire, please!” I pleaded though my sobs. The dragon dove and clutched the cursed prince in his claws, before lifting us up into the night sky.
My heart couldn’t take anymore. I was tired of losing those I loved, tired of seeing people in unnecessary pain and anguish. I was tired of fighting. I let myself fall into a deep sleep that wrapped around me.
“Sleep, Sapphira. I’ll make sure you are safe,” Tor whispered in my ear, and I managed to nod.
As I shut down every agonizing thought, I went far into my mind, a place where things that had been locked away for too long broke free of their forgotten prison.
“I’m sorry we didn’t have more time.” I looked at my father, who looked like me with the same light brown skin and wild brown hair. His smoky gray eyes were brought to life with the smile on his face. Little laugh lines creased above his cheeks. He was tall and broad unlike the man who had raised me. He was the warrior my mother always loved . . . her mate. She had drawn the tattoos on his face in a moment of peace between them.
I wanted to believe Rune and I would have ended up better than them. Better than this. She had gone on to marry Verin to protect our lands and sired me with Desmire. I’d read it in her journal, then she told me of their story, and I felt my heart expand for them. He was the father I never got to experience.
Verin was cold and never once held me or tucked me in as I grew.
“We will. This is not our end. And when you return my daughter, we will fight together.”
I managed to hold back my tears. My mother touched my shoulder, and I knew our final moment had come.
“I will come back for you,” I promised her. “You will be a great queen . . . loved and fiercer than I ever could have been. The warrior spirit in you cannot be broken. You will fight, and there will be nothing that can stop you.” She pulled me in for a hug. Her shoulders shook with emotion in my embrace. My father wrapped his arms around us, and despite what was to come, I knew all would be OK.
“Mariam will keep you safe from now on. Trust your gut no matter what, and don’t cause too much trouble.” My mother released her grasp around me and stood at the altar where my handmaiden Nyx waited in her purple dress for her final task.
The darkness was coming, and this was the only way.
With my hands clasped in my parents, we released our magic one last time.
Chapter Fifty-Six
I woke with a lump in my throat and tears on my cheeks.
