Adragon.
Terror filled me at seeing the pitch-black form with spikes along its spine and a snarl at its lips. When it opened its maw, black flames were strewn out, though instead of burning anything, they rotted fae through.
I’d never seen anything like it. I never want to see it ever again.
What Ravinger is capable of is utterly fearsome. That power, that creature he had with him, his pointed ears…he’s been a fae hiding in plain sight.
Yet…he’s helping Orea.
I’m as grateful as I am petrified.
To think, Ravinger could’ve wrought such devastating havoc all this time, and yet, my late husband dared to scheme against him. Queen Kaila had called Tyndall a fraud, but he was a damn fool.
The angry, spurned woman in me wishes I could wrench Tyndall back from death’s grasp just so I could show him this. So I could shove his ruined, gilded castle in his face.
King Midas may always be remembered for his golden touch, but I will always remember him for the way that touchdestroyed. He wasn’t a gift of wealth. He was a curse of unending greed.
Yet I was no better.
The people of Sixth Kingdom had a greedy king and a coldhearted queen, and because of us, our kingdom is gone.
The mountain itself looks like a septic heart pulsing with black veins. At the base, on the road leading to Seventh Kingdom, rot has created jagged gaps in the ground, cutting off the path.
Sixth Kingdom has been flooded with poison to kill off the infection of the fae.
But Ravinger was right. There are other Oreans who were trapped here. Mostly servants and guards left alive and forced to serve the fae. Our number of survivors has more than doubled.
Our death toll is too many to count.
The sound of scraping pulls my attention, and I look over to see Dommik helping one of Highbell’s surviving guards. Together, they drag a bloated body to the other end of the courtyard, tossing it with the rest of the dead fae already piled there.
My assassin looks like he’s ready to drop. Exhaustion drifts off him like his shadows, though right now, they’re tucked away.
He used his magic to bring everyone up the mountain. He had to make several trips, with multiple survivors each time, and I can tell it’s drained him. Even so, instead of resting now, he’s helping to rid Highbell from the blight of the dead.
A shadow passes over me, and my head whips up, eyes locking on the descending timberwing. Now, I have to face the one responsible for every rotted corpse.
Even though King Ravinger saved us, emptied Highbell of our enemies and liberated the survivors, I can’t help but shudder when he lands. His dragon has dissipated, blown away with the wind, but chills still bubble at my skin at the memory of its presence.
His timberwing’s lips part in a sneer as it sniffs the dead bodies, sharp talons scraping at the half-poisoned snow.
Swallowing hard, I force my legs forward, even as an animal instinct warns me to run the other way. The deadly king dismounts, standing before me in all his terror.
I drop my head. “Thank you, King Ravinger.”
It’s no wonder my voice trembles. Whose wouldn’t after witnessing what he’s done? What he’s capable of? That wasn’t mere magic. I’ve seen magic. Ihavemagic, however new it may be.
This was another tier of power entirely.
He ignores both my indebted gratitude and the shake in my words. Instead, he surprises me by saying, “Show me her cage.”
I freeze.
Cold dread gathers in my stomach, and a pulse-pounding silence stretches between us. “Her cage?”
Another snub at my words. Instead of replying, he turns on his heel and strides into the castle, and it’s all too clear that he expects me to go with him.
Across the courtyard, I glance over at Dommik, because something has been made abundantly clear. King Ravinger has hate in his eyes when he looks at me, and it stems from a source I didn’t expect.
