Not a single scorch mark blemishes the hide’s surface. Or Ortansia’s body. As she rises to her feet, still gripping the hide, she shakes her head. “That was one of the travelers, wasn’t it?”
I nod.
With a quick exhalation, she gathers up the dragon skin and shoves it at me. “Take it and go. I have visitors to take care of.”
The dragon’s hide weighs heavy in my arms.
A heavy hope.
Folding up the hide as tightly as I can, I pull it to my chest, where my shirt and cloak are hanging on by threads. At least my pants have remained intact. “I could obliterate them for you?”
“And make it known you’re here?” Ortansia glares at me. “I’m more than capable of taking care of them. Or is it your intention to insult me as well as to rob me?”
All I give her is a shrug. Making my way to the cave’s entrance, I pause, certain I’ll regret it when I say, “If you ever need help, come to me.”
Chances are, she never will.
Her quiet scoff tells me she knows my offer is hollow.
She would be smart to avoid ever coming near me again.
I slip through the narrow entrance, brushing past the now-scorching stone without harm. Ortansia will need to wait for it to cool, which gives me time to whistle for my serpent and waitfor him to arrive. I’m confident he’ll stay out of sight on his way to me.
Finally, I allow myself to breathe easily.
I have the dragon’s hide. I can keep the Oracle safe from my power when I seize her.
Even if I burn everything else down.
Despite my hope, an unwelcome uncertainty swirls in my stomach when my hand brushes the dagger’s hilt within my pocket.
What wood doesn’t burn in my fire?
Chapter Fifty-Five
Antony
Thyra’s smile has the power to shatter what’s left of my poisoned soul.
This warmth spreading through my chest can only destroy me, and still, I welcome it.
She lies in my arms, her silver armor leaving her naked in places, her head on my chest and face turned up to mine, her fingertips resting on my jaw, and her eyelids drooping.
I didn’t hurt her.
On a night when I could have torn her apart… I didn’t.
Astonishing.
Her eyes suddenly fly wide and, with a quick breath, she whispers, “I have to tell you what I saw in the Chronicle.”
Fuck, it’s hard to care about that right now.
I should care.
Should have demanded information far sooner than now, but the cut on her face triggered memories I couldn’t control, and then Thyra was all I could think about.
I coax her back to my chest. “Tell me now.”
