And after everything we have been through together, there is nothing that can break these bonds that we have formed through blood and pain and sacrifice. These people, these wonderful people who have changed my life, will forever be family to me.
“Oh,” Lyra suddenly exclaims. “Have I mentioned that I have five brothers? And a crazy grandma? Also my parents are pretty cool. And I have like an entire barn full of cousins.” She flashes us a beaming grin, her orange eyes glittering. “So if anyone wants more family, I’ve got loads.”
A laugh ripples through our entire group.
Alistair tips his head towards her appreciatively while sweeping his gaze over us. “Her brothers are actually really cool.”
“One of these days, you’ve gotta tell us how you survived that meeting,” I reply, a grin on my mouth.
He just wiggles his eyebrows, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.
“Draven Ryat!” a voice calls.
We all turn towards it to find the soldiers of the Silver Clan, now in their human forms, gathered on the grass before us. A male shifter with a few decorations on his silver dragon scalearmor is standing at the front. The rest of the soldiers cast nervous glances up at the sky. Ejnare and the rest of our army, all still in their dragon forms, circle above them like predators watching defenseless prey.
After exchanging a glance, we all walk towards them. The man at the front keeps his chin raised and his eyes locked on Draven as we spread out in a long row before them, with me and Draven in the middle.
Alistair lets a little fire flicker down his arms while Isera just narrows her eyes at them. Orion fixes them with his most condescending stare, ruthless power rolling off his toned shoulders like effortless waves. Galen and Lyra flank me and Draven. Galen’s violet eyes are sharp as he sweeps his gaze across the crowd, looking for signs of threats. His hand rests on his sword while Lyra just crosses her arms as if daring them to try something.
They don’t. Instead, most of their ranks just shift their weight nervously while glancing between Draven, the dragons above, and the man at the front who appears to be their temporary leader now that Jessina is dead.
“As the highest-ranking, surviving member of our army,” the man at the front begins, his voice carrying across the grass, “I speak for the whole Silver Clan.”
“So speak,” Draven demands, authority dripping from every word.
The leader swallows. “On behalf of the Silver Clan, I offer you our unconditional surrender.” He drops to one knee and bows his head, followed immediately by the rest of the soldiers. “And beg the Shadow of Death for his mercy.”
Draven slides his gaze to me. There is not a single ounce of judgement in his eyes. Only a simple question. And I can hear his words from earlier echo through my mind.
You wanna be villains? Let’s go be fucking villains.
If I tell him that I want to slaughter all of these soldiers right here, he would help me do it. Without question.
And I want to. Goddess above, I really, really want to. Because when I gaze out at the crowd of kneeling Silver Clan soldiers, all I can see is the faces of everyone they have hurt. Everyone they have killed. My parents. Isera’s parents. Grey. Trevor. Kevlin. Juliette.
I see Draven’s wings whipped to shreds. The pain in his eyes as he is forced to obey the Icehearts while his own clan hates him because they don’t know that he has been enslaved with dragon steel. I see Orion break down and cry because he lost his eye. I see Alistair collared in the kennels, having a panic attack. And Isera kneeling half-naked in the middle of a banquet hall. I see myself crawling on my hands and knees while that whole banquet hall laughs at me.
I see us all. Me. My friends. All the fae in the Seelie Court who have been suffering for millennia. All the dragon shifters who have been brought to their knees by the Iceheart Dynasty. All the Unseelie fae who have been forced to hide behind their wards all this time. All the humans in Frostfell who became second-class citizens in their own homeland.
The Silver Clan is responsible for all of it.
And I hate them for it. I hate the people who did this to us so much that I can barely breathe. The rage and hatred consume my entire soul. Like a fire, feeding on the oxygen in my lungs until there is nothing left for me to breathe with. I just want to kill them all. I want to scream and rage and burn this whole world to the ground for all the suffering we’ve had to endure. For all the sufferingIhave had to endure.
That searing fire inside me is screaming for blood and vengeance.
I open my mouth to tell Draven that I want them all dead.
But right before the first word can make it out, my gaze snags on a body on the ground. Empress Jessina Iceheart, lying like abroken doll on the ground with my dagger still buried in her chest.
I am not her.
The words clang through my skull, drowning out the roaring rage inside me long enough for me to drag in an unsteady breath.
With great effort, I forcibly pull myself back from the edge of that unfathomable chasm of fury and hatred inside me. Taking a small step back on the grass, I draw in another breath while I stare at Jessina’s body.
Thatis my revenge.
I have already claimed it.
