“Do you think that scares me now?” I asked, meeting the weight of his gaze with my own. I took a single step forward, the anger coiling in my veins giving me the strength I needed to continue.
“I have spent most of my life standing under a blade poised to fall. A lingering, painful death was always in the cards for me. As aHollow, as an abomination, and with every single act of fate or circumstance that has happened from the moment I was born.”
Memories flooded me, from the mages who tried to spill my cursed blood to my escape into Winter. To the days and nights spent hiding who I was and the constant fear of death waiting in the wings. The inevitability of it.
“But I am still here,” I said.
Still standing, for now.
“The Shard Mother chose me for a reason,” I continued, keeping my head held high. “So, I have to believe that I will find a way to control the power.”
Or maybe I wouldn’t. Maybe it really would control me, destroy me… But if I could at least hold on to complete the Heartstone Ceremony… to give Draven that much so he could begin to heal his kingdom…
I thought again of the Korythid that had breached the wards. The ancient monster that was fighting them even now. Thought of the Tharnoks, the Mirrorbanes, the Wretches, all of them.
How the frostbeasts were consuming the land, and every last drop of blood they could find.
Draven needed this. He needed a way to end this. And with my mana, I could offer him that.
I swallowed hard, darker thoughts creeping in at the edges of my mind. If the mana did destroy me. If it claimed my life like my mother was so worried it would… then at least that would be helpful too, right?
At least then it would pave the way for Draven to find someone who could help him heal Winter in truth.
So, so many times, I had faced my death, but at least this way, it could serve a purpose.
The Dragon tilted his head, letting out a low, humorless chuckle. “That remains to be seen.”
Somehow I felt like he was responding as much to my unspoken thoughts as to my words.
Whether I could control my power remained to be seen… And whether my death would serve a purpose did as well.
Then his eyes ignited in a violet haze, and shadows cascaded from his body, stretching outward like wings. Pale slivers of light reflected off of glimmering scales, a purple so deep and dark it was nearly the color of a starless sky. The scales rippled as he towered higher above me. I followed the movement for what felt like ages.
How had he kept it all contained in his other form?
My pulse thundered in my ears, fear curdling low in my gut as I stepped back even further to avoid being crushed.
Horns arched back from its head in sweeping ridges that nearly scraped the cavern’s jagged ceiling, and his tail stretched back so far it could have coiled around the Gravemoor Towers twice over.
This was the Dragon I had come to see. This was the creature who held my life and my death in his hands. And looking at him now, I had no way of knowing which one he would choose.
Chapter 6
Draven
How many times had NevaraSeenmy death? Yet I had never once pictured hers.
My oldest friend had always been this untouchable presence. A source of strength and power. Blessed by the Shard Mother herself…
But here I was, standing over her as she bled out onto the snow. Just as mortal, just asfragile, as every other shards-damned fae here.
Ice and snow swirled around me in violent arcs, the wind howling as it ripped through the battlefield, growing stronger with every rapid heartbeat.
Was this what it meant to be chosen? To be used and discarded? Was the Shard Mother’s will so hollow that she would allow her Visionary to just die in the snow like this? So unworthy of her divine intervention?
No.
The word tore loose from me in a snarl as I stepped over Nevara and Redthorne, my power surging up instinctively. A shield of ice slammed into place around us just as the Autumnemissary gathered her closer, cradling her to his chest while the storm bent to my will.
