My breath caught.
Amelia slowly lifted her head.
Gods.
She was stunning. All wide violet-blue eyes and trembling lips. Even more beautiful than Belana had been. But where Belana had worn her beauty like armor, Amelia wore hers like chains. She was young—too young—and the panic in her gaze was unmistakable.
Zander stared at her, stunned.
And though he didn’t speak, I saw the truth in his silence.
Amelia looked like she’d rather be tossed into a viper pit than stand here, tethered to a man she didn’t know… as a pawn in her dead sister’s place.
Zander’s fingers curled around mine, warm and steady, and he stepped forward without a hint of hesitation. His voice carried, calm but firm. “Lady Amelia,” he said, his gaze never wavering from hers, “you are even more beautiful than your sister, but I have chosen another.”
Amelia blinked, lips parting.
“You have served your duty to the crown and can no longer be forced into a contract,” he continued. “I wish you well in your search for a suitable husband. I sincerely hope you choose love over duty.”
Amelia lifted a hand to her chest, stunned. “Thank you, Prince Rayne,” she whispered, her voice trembling with something that sounded a lot like hope. “I will not squander this gift.” Then she gathered the hem of her gown and rushed toward the castle, her long hair trailing behind her like smoke in the wind.
Theron’s expression twisted with rage. He stepped forward and jabbed his finger hard into Zander’s chest. “What have you done?”
Zander didn’t flinch. “I’ve released her,” he said coolly. “She fulfilled her obligation and nothing you say can change it. And incase you had other brides waiting in the wind, you should know I will reject them too.”
His hand tightened around mine as he turned to glance at me. “Ashlyn is my choice.”
Then he looked back at Theron, something dark flashing in his eyes. “I will never be king, and we both know my bloodline is not of Emlem Rayne. My children will be riders.”
For a heartbeat, no one moved. Not even the wind dared to interrupt the truth hanging in the air.
Theron’s face turned a violent shade of crimson. “You insolent little bastard,” he hissed, spittle flying from his lips. “You think because the dragons favor you, that you’re untouchable? You spit on every tradition of this realm. You break bonds, reject contracts, flaunt your defiance like a banner?—”
Doors along the barracks cracked open one by one. Boots struck stone. Riders—ours, Crownwatch, Stormforge, even a few from Warborn—emerged, drawn by the sound of the second prince’s fury. They stepped into the open and formed a loose circle around us, silent sentinels bearing witness.
Zander didn’t flinch. He glanced around at the growing crowd. “You’ve always enjoyed a spectacle, Theron.”
Theron’s eyes blazed as he stepped forward, the muscles in his jaw clenching. “You will regret this,” he snarled. “You will marry who I choose. Or you will leave these grounds stripped of rank and title, cast into exile like the traitor you are. Denounce my command again, and I’ll have the guards drag you from your bed in chains.”
Kaelith’s roar echoed in the distance, distant thunder that seemed to ripple through the very bones of the castle.
Zander stood taller, his voice low but resolute. “Then you’d best be prepared to follow through on that threat, Brother. Because I’m done bowing to your ambition.”
The silence that followed was sharp enough to cut steel. Until a dragon’s roar cut through the air.
Siergen’s red wings swept dust across the Ascension Grounds as he landed, his scales catching the last of the sun’s light and turning it to fire. He moved with slow, deliberate steps—less beast, more sovereign. His eyes locked on Theron, and the hatred burning in them made my skin crawl.
Tell the idiotic prince,Siergen’s voice echoed through both mine and Zander’s minds,that if he threatens you again, the riders who wish to remain bonded with their dragons will be relocated to the Dragon Isle. The treaty will be nullified.
Zander didn’t hesitate. He turned to Theron, his jaw taut. “Siergen says if you threaten me again, all willing riders will relocate to the isle—and the treaty between dragon and the crown of Warriath will be voided.”
The fury that surged across Theron’s face was volcanic. His hand twitched at his side as if he wished he had a sword in it. “You let that Courier lizard threaten me?” he spat. “You’ll let a beast dictate the laws of the realm?”
Inderia’s hand clenched around his arm, her lips drawn into a sneer as she cut a daggered glare in my direction. If looks could kill, I would’ve dropped dead on the stones.
Zander didn’t answer. He didn’t have to.
Siergen’s voice boomed aloud this time, so that every rider heard his words.No king holds authority over the dragons. Not now. Not ever. And Theron Rayne will never rule Warriath as long as I draw breath.
