“Aw. Are the lovebirds feuding?" Lorik pretended to pout.
I snapped my mouth shut. Nein. Nein, nein, nein. I shouldn’t be having this discussion in front of Lorik, fueling his glee.
Taron glared at the hologram. “I will enjoy killing you.” His voice didn’t shake, but his grip on the blade did.
Lorik’s grin widened, white and toothy, and Taron’s hand tightened around the blade strapped to his side.
Then the shifter king zeroed his attention on me. “Olyssa dear, please know I didn’t scheme to bind you to Taron just to watch you fall apart when he dies. That is simply a bonus.” Wink.
Now it was my turn to tighten my grip around my weapon, not that it did me any good.
The king of the shifters made a big show of looking thoughtful. “Unless, of course, you can break the bondbefore I strike.” Challenge laced the words, but so did amusement, as if he wanted me to try but knew I’d fail. “Nein, I did this so you’d spend time together and come to care for him. Now the end will hurt so much more.”
Rainer finger-waved. “I look forward to your tears, Olyssa.”
Flame-flinger. What had I ever done to him?
I bit my tongue, tasting blood. My dragon huffed and puffed, dragging my temper to the surface. But the urge to test Taron in my flames? Extinguished. A development I didn’t understand.
“You know what the best part is?” Glee radiated from Lorik. “Even knowing my plan requires you fall for the mortal, you won’t be able to stop yourself from doing it.” The shifter king continued talking, but I marched past him.
He sputtered. “Our conversation isn’t over,” his hologram bellowed. “Come back.”
I kept going, marching on. Lorik had known I’d left the castle from the beginning. But he hadn’t attacked.
Hold up.
Why hadn’t he attacked? Instead, he’d wasted time taunting me. Granting me a reprieve to gather the ingredients.
Why not strike when my home—the stronghold of my people—was most vulnerable? Why merely listen to my plans and fracture my focus?
Because power wasn’t just force, but timing.
The realization hit like a lightning bolt. He didn’t want war. Yet. He wanted…what?
The ingredients I sought? To let me take the risk so he could steal them from me, preventing me from breaking the bond to Taron?
My hands fisted. Let him try to stealmy ingredients. Nothing and no one would stop me from breaking the bond and sending Taron on his way. Then I would kill Lorik and deal with my father. Nyla, too, if she lived. Enjoy the happiness of my people.
Taron grumbled under his breath. I detected a slight thud of hurried footsteps as he rushed to catch up with me.
“I left the ring back there,” he began. “I swear I didn’t know that it acted as a?—”
“It doesn’t matter,” I interjected. Because it didn’t. “You don’t owe me an explanation. I killed your loved ones. We’re eternal enemies. I get why you worked with the shifter.” I couldn’t even blame him. “Let’s just get the flower.”
There. That was the voice of a queen. I’d let a silly attraction distract me from my good sense. Put myself and my people in danger.
Mission first. Always.
Taron caught my wrist, stopping me and drawing my gaze to his. His honey irises searched my face. Whatever he saw caused a hard mask to settle over his features.
He gave a firm nod and released me. “Very well. Let’s go find that flower.”
My chest ached.Focus.The Bloodpetal Blossom only bloomed in dragon blood spilled in a blighted glade, guarded by wraithlings—twisted remnants of dragons who’d died in agony at the hands of their firebrands.
We walked all day. Perhaps we should have flown, but I couldn’t bear the thought of holding him within my smoke current. We didn’t speak another word until we reached our destination. At the top of a hill, we stood shoulder to shoulder, peering down upon the Glen of the Unmourned, where the ground dipped and carried the heavy smell of damp rot. Dried, dead leaves swirled in circles at the lowestpoint of the clearing, guided by an invisible stream. An unwelcome metallic taste formed in my mouth.
Eight wraithlings hovered above it, half ghost, half zombie, all white dragon, only warped. They flew circles around a small patch of flowerless foliage, raining crimson tears upon it. Malice crackled in the air as lightning flashed, followed by a high-pitched keening. Too high-pitched to be dragon. Or human.
