All I wanted was to look at my fury one last time.
One last glance.
One last touch.
And then—
I was gone,yet I wasn’t. Moving my limbs felt like too much effort, but I could somehow . . . see.
With my family blade in her hand, my storm, my fury,lurched to her feet. Chaos erupted in the throne room, fae lords and ladies crying out and fleeing.
Ivenrail reeled away from Brenna and spun to face us with shock cratering his face. “Brenna isnotthe heir. She’s not the Lydel heir!”
Not quite true, but close.
He flitted to me, shaking me.
I was there—and I wasn’t.
Fury leaped onto Ivenrail. Yes, kill him. End this, please. He knocked the blade from her hand, but she drew it close again with her endless power.
Ivenrail lifted and shook what was left of my faltering carcass. “Where is the true Lydel heir? You promised to deliver her to me but you—” His head snapped around, his gaze landing on my fury.
So, he’d finally figured it out.
Releasing me, he rushed over to her and yanked up her skirt, exposing the scars on her left thigh, all that was left of her Lydel mark. I’d known who she was from the moment I felt her back at the fortress. My fated mate. Mine to love for a lifetime.
The Lydel heir—my betrothed.
Ivenrail slammed his thumb against her forehead. “Give me Lydel’s core power and with it, your throne.”
No.
I dragged myself back from whatever was trying to haul me away and cried out.I must help her.
Drask squawked and smacked his wings against Ivenrail, but he swatted the bird away.
Reyla raced toward them, her hand lifting, shooting a boltof white lightning into Ivenrail’s face. The power blasted upward, raking across the top of his head but not stabbing within. Damn wards. He was a master.
He reeled backward, his hands slapping his hair as it crackled with smoldering magic. He pointed at her, flinging her into the Nullens standing to the side of the dais.
Do. Not. Hurt.Her.
Do something!I cried out.
Madrood rumbled over to loom behind the king, his lips peeling back and flames snapping and coiling within his red gaze. The furious beast sucked in a deep breath. Flames blasted from his mouth, churning toward Ivenrail, who flitted to the dais.
“Madrood,” Ivenrail bellowed with a mix of rage and dismay. “What are you—”
Madrood tipped his head back and shot fire at the ceiling, dragging the flames down toward the king, Kerune, and the high advisor.
Fury, my glorious, amazing mate, walked over to stand beside Madrood, her hand gently resting on his thigh.
I held on, because I had to . . . see.
Yes, little one,the furious beast of a dragon intoned in our minds.
She’d bonded with the king’s dragon, and because we were fated mates, I could speak to him as well. I’d been able to do so since the moment I met him.
