“Kazia!” Aliza exclaims. “This is for the good of the realm.”
Imrik’s face deepens into a scowl. The room grows heavy with magic. “I have been very lenient with you, but you will not defy a direct order.” Imrik points at the silver paint. “Tell Commander Vaire to stay in the circle, then return to your quarters. We will discuss your behavior later.”
“Lenient. Is that what you call it?” Kazia accuses, lifting his chin. “Is it lenient to tear the skin from my back just because that woman can heal it? Even when the healing hurts, too?”
Aliza frowns in confusion. “Where is this coming from, darling? This isn’t like you. Did you not sleep well?”
Bretka leaves her post and draws closer to Aliza. Her movements are quiet, unhurried, and Lucien tries not to look at her.
“Let’s make a deal,” Kazia says. “I give up Lucien, and you stop using me. For one fucking month.”
Lucien doesn’t spare a thought as to whether Kazia is serious. It’s a test, and Lucien wants to know Imrik’s answer, too.
From his throne, Imrik scoffs. “Mind your tongue, boy. You don’t need it to serve your purpose. Aliza, put a stop to this nonsense.”
Bretka reaches out at Aliza’s side. “I’ll take that for you, Your Majesty.”
Without looking at the herald, Aliza passes over the research book and slips a hand in the folds of her dress. She’s focused on her son—until Bretka drops the book and shoves her own hand into Aliza’s pocket.
Aliza shrieks in the brief, confusing struggle. Imrik rises to his feet, too late. Scalestone gleams, held aloft, before Bretka flings the phylactery to the floor.
Glass explodes against marble, and Bretka shouts, “Now!”
Her cry echoes as Lucien lunges to his feet—and the first bolt of lightning arcs towards Bretka.
Lucien doesn’t see her crumple. He’s already shoving Kazia behind him and throwing a wall of flame between them and the king and queen. “Move,” he says, dragging Kazia backwards. “Move, move, move—”
More glass explodes from high above, as the ceiling crashes in. Suddenly, the room is filled with dragon. Glass, stone, and iron thunder through the air, echoing Tezurit’s shriek of elation. Pillars tumble. She lands like an earthquake, fragile lightning scattering from her scales.
Imrik bellows in anger, and the room darkens with storm clouds.
Tezurit skids back, crouching above Lucien and Kazia. A wall of gold and white scales, gorgeous and deadly.
Lucien knocks a lightning bolt away with fire. “You take the blood mage, I’ll take the lightning,” he yells, too focused on everything else to speak mentally.
Kazia clings to Lucien’s arm. “Don’t let her touch you. She’s not strong, but don’t let her touch you.”
“Got it.” Lucien shoves Kazia towards the door. “Now,run.”
Kazia stumbles away, and Lucien races forward in a blaze of fire.
The marble floor is slick with rainwater, the room a mess of rubble, smoke, and storm. More pillars topple as Tezurit whirls towards the thrones. Imrik is barely visible through flashes of lightning.
Lucien flings fire in every direction, knowing it won’t hurt Tezurit. Rain sizzles into steam, and lightning arcs astray in the changing air. Elation fuels Lucien’s flames. It’s a close fight. But now that he’s gotten the measure of Imrik Dire in person,without the shield of his armies? Without his son’s stolen power?
Imrik is only a mage. Lucien can win this.
A tortured voice sings through the chaos. Tezurit pins Aliza down with one clawed foot—one claw piercingintoAliza’s stomach—
But as flame builds in Tezurit’s throat, Aliza grabs the claws killing her, and screams.
Tezurit freezes. Then she turns, dark eyes fixed on Lucien.
She did something to me.Fear pulses beneath Tezurit’s words.I don’t want to do this.She rears back, flames licking behind her teeth.Run!
Barely deflecting the first flare of dragonfire, Lucien flings himself behind the nearest broken pillar. Fuck.
“Can you kill her?” Lucien pants, wishing stomach wounds were faster. Aliza must be clinging to life, if the blood magic is lasting.
