“What happened to him, to the twin?” I gasped when my feet slid out from under me, the entire balcony floor slicked with ice. I balanced myself before her eyes lifted to mine.
“He defied the path written. Reached for a fate that did not belong to him. And the cost…” Her words fell colder than the frost. “The cost waseverything. Body. Flame. Even his name. Erased. Gone where no dragon dares to follow.”
It felt less like an answer, more like a curse still ringing through the world. There was only one reason a dragon would suffer such an end. Only one act that could stain their blood beyond forgiveness.
He had turned on them all.
“Did the twin kill Rhydan?”
Willa didn’t answer.
In the space of a thought, an unseen pull caught behind my eyes and wrenched, dragging my eyes skyward. Wisps of thick charcoal smoke poured from me, spiraling down from the bond.
Memories, not mine, unleashed, blinding and brutal, and when I blinked, I was there, across the cove from where Willa and I stood, walking its scarred land.
Except it wasn’t tainted yet. Because it was his eyes I saw from, Ronan’s, witnessing history burn.
I blinked again and I was in the war room of Sahfyre, all obsidian flame. I could feel the winged weight along my shoulder blades beneath the leathers. The power in Ronan’s core was immense, so damn heavy it pressed against mine, yet even here, even in history, he suppressed it all.
Another warrior stood across from him, his head shaved to the scalp, scales inked in white across his crown. They were stark against his dark umber skin, his own leathered wings draped like cloaks, pooling across the floor.
“They’re calling for us to gather in Nyctom,” Ronan said, “Rhydan and I are—”
“You haven’t heard, Your Highness?”
Ronan stilled as his stomach dropped, and I felt it like a stone sinking through my own core.
“There was an attack.” The warrior swallowed, his head shaking. “On Nyctom’s kingdom. Kairos…Leora…they’ve all fallen.”
I expected silence. For Ronan’s mind to go still, to fracture in private before he could absorb the sentence that would alter his life. But no such mercy came. His world didn’t pause for grief. Screams cut through the corridor as metal clashed and roars shook the walls.
“We’re under attack!” a voice bellowed, hammering the steel doors. “Prince Ronan, we’re—”
Then quiet.
Ronan’s wings expanded, stretching wide enough to consume the room. “Who has made the mistake of challenging Ryuu?”
The space tightened, a dark shroud forming along the floor. But it wasn’t his smoke that had begun seeping beneath the door. I knew that sharp, metallic taste. The way it rotted sweet on my tongue.
Poison.
The warrior convulsed first, his wings dissolving into nothing as he dropped to his knees. “Resin-iron,” he rasped, throwing a hand toward Ronan. “Leave—”
Too late.
It reached us, his wings blinking out fast, knees slamming stone, as he choked against the cloying murk strangling his throat.
Get up, Ronan. Get up.My plea was useless as the clang of steel battered the door.
His palms sparked, tendrils spilling slick and violent, lashing out to brace the barrier, curling around the warrior who had crawled to him. It shielded his body just as the door exploded inward. Soldiers poured through. No banners. No crest. Just black, faceless armor gleaming cruel.
We rose, a shadowed blade ripped from his thigh, his body twisting in smoke-born ferocity as he cut them down one by one.
Steel shrieked. Flesh gave. Blood splattered stone.
He searched for markings, sigils, anything to name the bastards, but their identity was hidden. His attention cut back to the warrior, still cradled by his smoke. Fury burned in those eyes, the hunger to fight as the warrior reached for a sword across his back.
Ronan released him, freed him, while a void rose behind us.
