“I could have killed you. We have no idea what my magic is capable of yet. And instead of letting me ease into it, you forced me to lose control.”
“Better to be dead than to go on living as a beast.”
“You—Argh!Stupid dragon!” I reared back and kicked his elbow, wincing at the pain that shot up my foot. Alaric, damn him, showed no reaction.
He hadn’t brought me here to help me. He’d brought me to help himself. Selfish bastard.
“You don’t understand. I’ve waited so long. I had to try. From what you said about your gift, I realized it must be emotion-based. I was right.”
“Good for you.” Despite this revelation, I was in no mood to forgive him. Holding my head high, I limped to the door. This time, he didn’t stop me.
Chapter Twenty-Two
THORNE
When I last visited Carcerem,the Arbor Kingdom was on the cusp of a revolution. One Alaric and I had taken part in when we’d helped the rightful king reclaim his throne.
I’d met Victor Custodis and his mate, Runa, along with her adopted siblings, when we were all incarcerated together. Them, because they’d been arrested. Me, because I was there to free my brother from Idris’ zoo.
It was during our imprisonment that the former ruler forced us to compete in a barbaric game called The Fallen Trials. At the time, none had known I was also a Draconis who could shift into a dragon. The risk was too great lest I find myself chained next to Alaric.
Even without my dragon, we’d escaped the games and dethroned the bastard who’d imprisoned us. I figured since I’d helped them steal an entire kingdom, my former teammates owed me.
As I strode into the Thirsty Goat, the smell of smoked meat, stale ale, and desperation greeted me. A haze clung to the rough-hewn ceiling, dim lanterns casting everything in gloom. Patrons cast me wary glances as I passed. It was a ragged-looking crowd, their clothing coarse and coin purses lean. Not the sort of place you’d expect to find those in service to the crown.
Seated at the back, facing the door, were the powerful duo. Drazen, the infernus with the gift of fire, slumped in a chair, lighting a cigar with the tip of his finger. While Kronk, an athos whose skin could turn to stone, smashed shelled nuts in his beefy fists before snacking on the meaty insides. Neither wore the crown’s uniform, preferring lizard-hide vests and weapon-studded belts.
“Hello, boys. Miss me?” I grinned at the pair.
“Well, look who it is.” Drazen smirked, his black horns catching the lights. “The second-best flame-thrower in the realm.”
Kronk cast me an assessing scowl from beneath his protruding brow. “Thorne Blackwing. No. I did not miss you.”
Ah, Kronk. Thick-skulled as ever.
Drazen patted the table next to him, and I slid into the seat.
“Maggie!” The infernus shouted across the room. “A pint for my friend.”
“How’s your sister and her mate?” I asked. Or maybe I should have said,the king and queen.
Drazen flicked a ruddy hand. “Busy with royal matters. You know, creating laws, hearing grievances, nurturing the kingdom. That sort of thing.”
“Too busy to spend time with us,” Kronk muttered into his drink.
Someone was feeling sulky now that his sister had responsibilities beyond thieving with her adopted brothers.
“And how is life as distinguished advisors to the royals?” Why Runa and her mate would place these two knuckleheads in an advisory position was a mystery.
“Advisors,” Drazen huffed, smoke rolling from his nostrils. “Runa didn’t listen to us before becoming queen. When she handed out those titles, it changed nothing.”
I’d assumed as much, given the woman’s headstrong ways. She reminded me of a stubborn redhead I knew. The two would likely get along famously.
“Did you hear they’re reinstating the Fallen Trials?” Drazen asked.
My face fell. “You’re joking.”
“Victor claims it’s needed to replenish the coffers while the kingdom gets back on its feet.”
