“Understatement,” Tristan snorts.
Scarlett steps away from me, turning to take in the others, her gaze landing on Raiden. Her eyes widen as she takes in his towering form. Arms crossed over his chest, Raiden raises an eyebrow, an amused smirk tugging at his lips. I bite down on mine, stifling a laugh; I know exactly what she’s seeing. The first time I met Raiden, I had the same reaction. His sheer size—broad and muscled, with massive, leathery wings folded at his back—is enough to make anyone pause. Two swords crossed on his back, and the sharp horns curving from his hairline only add to his formidable stance.
“Scarlett, Mia,” I begin, gesturing toward him, “this is Raiden. He’s the General of the Unseelie Armies, and a close friend of mine.”
Scarlett stares a moment longer, then blurts, “You’re huge!” Her cheeks flush as she claps a hand over her mouth.
Raiden’s laugh rumbles out, rich and warm. He grins down at her, inclining his head in a mock bow. “Why, thank you.”
I roll my eyes, stepping between them to link my arms with Mia and Scarlett. “And over here,” I gesture to the others, “are Kian and Tristan.”
Each of them nods in turn, their gazes assessing but welcoming.
Chapter twenty-two
Maxon
Ijolt awake, frigid water slapping me in the face. Gasping for air, I struggle against the tight grip of the wyvern bones, feeling my breath being cut off as they constrict around my neck. I know I have to still my movements or they will continue to tighten, but it isn’t easy to do.
A sharp, sinister laugh rings out through the small cavern, bouncing off the walls. I take deep, measured breaths, my chest rising and falling with each lungful.
When my vision finally clears, I see Yumekui standing just a few feet away, her arms crossed and a mischievous grin on her face. Next to her stands a small, hunched-over woman clutching a wooden pail in her hands, most likely the culprit who doused me with water under the instructions of the bitch demon before me.
“I can’t have you getting rest, Maxon,” she tsks.
A deep snarl rumbles from my throat, breaking free. The menacing sound resonates in the small space, making the small woman shrink back with a gasp.
Yumekui’s light chuckle sends an unsettling shiver down my spine, like nails on a chalkboard. Her piercing red eyes scan me with unnerving precision. There’s a glint in them—part amusement, part something darker, something ancient. She doesn’t blink. Doesn’t look away. Just watches.
A subtle curl tugs at the corner of her mouth, not quite a smile, more like the shadow of one. It’s the kind of expression predators wear when they already know how the hunt ends.
Stepping forward, she delicately removes a kanzashi from her hair, causing her long, ebony locks to cascade around her. The kanzashi is long and sharp, its menacing edge still fresh in my memory from the day before.
“The Shadoweaver wishes to see you.” She smirks.
A spasm runs through me tightening my muscles. “Good for him,” I mutter. “Is he coming to me? Oh, wait. He can’t.”
“I know this must be difficult for you.” Yumekui lets out a sigh, absently flipping her kanzashi between her fingers. “But it could be your beloved soul mate here instead. You know I had a taste of her blood, her magic. It was exquisite. I bet you are craving it, aren’t you?”
The heat radiating from the fire in my chest intensifies, matching the fierce flames of my anger. I can feel my heartbeat pounding in my temples as the suppressed magic surges through my veins, yearning to be unleashed. The power I inherited from the dragons embedded in my core hums with an energy that threatens to consume me. Every breath I take feels like fire, as if my very existence is a catalyst for combustion. I grit my teeth,the pain coursing through me as the magic within me demands an outlet. It twists and turns, like a caged beast desperate to break free.
“It’s burning you up from the inside, isn’t it?” Yumekui tilts her head, eyes alight with fascination. “I can feel the dragon’s fire flowing beneath your skin.”
I take a deep breath, feeling the burden of each inhalation. “Fuck you.”
“I wonder if this sudden flare in your dragon’s power is due to Everly’s return.” She muses, tapping her chin with the kanzashi.
I stiffen, hands curling into fists as my eyes track the kanzashi. I want nothing more than to stab her in the eye with it.
“My magic was growing before she returned!”
Yumekui laughs softly. “Well, then, maybe the dragons are waking from their millennia-long slumber. Perhaps they sense the building tension, the darkness that is leaking across the plains.”
The air crackles with an eerie sense of awareness as her words hang in the air.
“Perhaps,” I mutter.
According to ancient folklore, these dragons are not mere beasts, but revered beings of immense wisdom and strength. The presence of dragons is a symbol of prosperity and protection, their very existence a sign of divine favor upon the kingdom.
