“And I am giving it back.” I pointed a finger at the cursed stone. “No way I’m keeping that thing. You know what would happen to me if someone found it in my possession. Fates save me, what if someone saw?”
I dashed to the door and slowly, carefully cracked it open. The hallway outside was empty, not a guard or flaming torch in sight. Exhaling a sigh, I closed the door, then locked it, and dashed back to the workbench. The beautiful plant glared back at me. A shining beacon ushering in my death.
Evidence of my crime. It had to go.
With a sharp twist of my fingers, I plucked the fragrantblossoms from the stems, then jogged to Yaga’s hearth, tossing them into the flames.
Yaga folded her bony arms over her sagging bosom. “Look at you carrying on. Haven’t you always wanted a connection to your past? Here, I give you one, and you’re behaving like a nutter.”
Panic jolted down my spine, propelling my feet into motion, sending them across the length of the room and back. “No way. Absolutely not. I’ll have no part of that thing.”
I spun to face my mentor. “Do you want to watch me burn? You know I’m allergic to fire.” Maybe Yaga could get away with having the illegal relic in her possession, especially since she really didn’t claim any one place as home, but not me. Not as an indentured slave of the high lord.
She pondered me with calculating eyes, tapping her whiskered chin. After a lifetime, she tossed up her hands. “Fine. Far be it from me to force it on you if you’re not ready. But mark my words. The time will come when you regret this decision. When that happens, you’ll know what you need to do.”
I coughed a broken laugh. “The day I come to you, begging for some mystical rock that’s likely to see me spinning over a spit is the day the world ends.”
She waggled a finger at me, cloudy eyes darkening with some odd gleam. “Best watch your words, girly. The fates are always watching and listening. You know there’s nothing they like more than a challenge.” The hag grew serious, grasping both my hands, peering deep into my eyes in a way that made me shiver. “Dark times lie ahead of you, young lady. Stay true to yourself. Don’t stray from the light.”
Poor Yaga was acting strange tonight, even more so than usual. Perhaps her mind was actually slipping. My heart twisted at the thought, my concern for my mentor surpassing my fear of the stone. What would I ever do without her? She was the only one who really saw me. Saw me as more than a servant.
“Promise me.” Her grip tightened, her rounded nails digging into my hands.
“I promise, Yaga,” I swore, though I had no idea exactly what it was I was agreeing to.
Her face softened into an expression of motherly affection. “You’re a good girl, Serafina. One of my favorites by far. Probably because you remind me so much of myself.”
My cheeks flushed. Although the hag was still talking a bit crazy, the compliment warmed my insides.
Quick kiss to my forehead, and she released me as though the moment between us had never happened. “Off with yah then. I’ve plenty of work to do before my departure tomorrow, and you’ve chores to complete.”
Unfortunately, she was right. I could put off my duties no longer. I’d rather face a fire-breathing dragon than what awaited me.
Chapter Three
THORNE
My soaringshadow slithered over the barren landscape far below. The craggy face of Gravestone Mountain raced closer, summoning a tide of dread that threatened to drive me into the stones below. Every spiny peak and jagged fissure was seared into my brain like a brand. Memories clawed at the edges of my mind—the ghosts of past sins, unrelenting and vicious.
Wind howled beneath my wings, magic crackling through me like lightning. I stretched out my taloned toes, bracing for the unforgiving stone ledge. The shift ripped through me—dragon melting into man—and my bare feet struck the frigid rock. The impact rattled my bones, but the familiar ache was nothing compared to the suffocating weight of returning here.
Hewas waiting.
I didn’t slow my pace, storming off the flight deck, through the yawning archway. “Curse the fates for dragging me back to this filthy hellhole.” Fury churned, and I lashed out, kicking a pile of bones from my path. A skull, a remnant of some long-dead wretch, clattered and bounced down the stone corridor, its hollow rattle echoing like mocking laughter.
The lost kingdom remained as desolate as when Alaric and I had abandoned it, only now it was suffocating beneath centuries of dust and crawling with vermin.
At least the wards continued to hold, shrouding the ruins from prying eyes. Despite those ancient measures, whispers still drifted to neighboring villages, feeding tales of tortured spirits that lingered in these cliffs.
Those rumors were true.
Inside the hidden castle, the air hung damp and musty, a chill shriveling parts of me that usually filled me with pride. I seized a pair of pants from the pile I kept near the flight deck and shucked them up my legs. Warmth beckoned from deeper within, and I sauntered into the massive hearth room, spotting one of the trogg who lived within the mountain.
The arrogant mask I’d perfected over the centuries slid into place, hiding my turmoil. Lips curved into a cocky smirk, I set my fists on the waist of my low-slung pants. “The conditions here are deplorable. Tell the head of housekeeping to—”
“You’re looking at her, Master Thorne,” she cut in, stacking wood against the wall before dusting her hands. “And if you don’t like the state of things, you can take your slovenly dragon and stay elsewhere.”
“Aw, Sweet Myrna. You wound me.” I offered one of my most beguiling smiles.
