Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 54811 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 183(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54811 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 183(@300wpm)
I turn my back on Lorne and Eian to move a couple of feet from Garrick’s side, keeping my focus split between the whites of Garrick’s eyes and the movement of our attackers’ shadows in the patchy sunlight as we head toward the clearing.
Lorne presses his sword against my back.
Guess I’ll have to kill him first. With us heading west at this trajectory, if the others keep theirs, we’ll intercept, hopefully sooner rather than later.
“Does he have any other weapons on you?” I use my hands to sign close to my body, avoiding the three behind us but catching Garrick’s attention. “Blink once for no. Twice for yes.”
He blinks once.
That’s the best news I’ve heard all day.
“Don’t trip,” I sign back.
He subtly gifts me with the middle finger.
“Let’s see,” Alic drones on as we cross the forest floor. “I own your city—well, the charred remains of it, at least. Dragons don’t really leave much when they fire a town, do they?”
“We need to keep him confident,” I sign to Garrick. If I’ve learned anything about Alic Baran in the last seventy-eight days, it’s that he won’t kill Garrick until he’s had his fun humiliating him now that he thinks he has the power. “Need him to make a mistake.”
He blinks twice.
A dragon roars to the south, followed by a painful scream. The pressure at my back disappears, and we keep walking.
“And there’s the land around your city,” Alic continues. “Oh, and that fabulous fortress you call a house. That’s mine, too.”
“I’m going to need your sword,” I sign to Garrick.
He blinks once.
“I’m going to need your sword,” I sign again. Stubborn prick.
He rolls his eyes, then blinks them twice.
“Not much for taxes, since all your people are dead.” Alic sighs. “Which, of course, is why no other noble has stepped up for your title. Well, your father’s title. It was never quite yours, was it?”
“Aldwin maneuver,” I sign to Garrick, keeping my hands tight against my chest.
He blinks once.
“Fine. Gerwin?” I sign another option. Benefits of training nearly our entire lives together? We have the same combat vocabulary.
He blinks twice.
“It’s a wonder we never met before Parapet, really,” Alic prattles on. “Your father no doubt kept you from gatherings to keep his rebellion planning a secret.”
“My father kept me away from aristocrats because he knows you’re a bunch of entitled pricks who rule in your own best interest,” I counter, because fuck him.
We walk into the clearing, and the sun blesses me with a clear view of our attackers’ shadows. There’s a gap between the swords and my back, which gives me some room to move, but Alic’s shadow is merged with Garrick’s.
A wave of steam washes over us, and we all still.
My lungs spasm. Standing near a lone tree midway across the field is a giant sapphire-blue dragon with a scar across its snout and swinging a clubtail behind it.
“Hello there,” Alic says quietly.
“Is that yours?” I sign to Garrick, hope lighting up my chest.
He blinks once. No.
Shit. That hope dies a swift death. Blues are the most ruthless dragons in the Empyrean. They’re death machines with pretty scales and a thirst for blood. And if that one wasn’t calling Garrick, it’s either here to bond one of the assholes behind us or kill us. Neither of which is conducive to our survival.
But at least it’s not the navy blue—
A shadow falls over the field, blocking out the sun for a heartbeat before another blue lands beside the clubtail. Its golden eyes narrow on us as it stands to its full height, and just when I think it can’t get any bigger, it does. Navy-blue scales. Flicking a daggertail.
Oh fuck.
Sgaeyl.
“Sgaeyl,” Alic whispers, awestruck.
Of every dragon Kaori projected for us, she is the one he told us not to approach under any circumstances. She’s not just ruthless, she’s flat-out vicious. She abandoned her first rider to his death for cowardice, is rumored to have killed her second, and hasn’t bothered with a rider since her last one died, more than forty years ago, before he even left the quadrant. I’m not his direct descendant, but his last name also happened to be Riorson.
My heart starts to pound as she sits and tilts her head as if she’s ready for a show. The clubtail looks in her direction, and she whips her head toward it, snapping her teeth within inches of its snout. The Blue Clubtail swivels, giving her ample space before it settles a dozen feet away.
She turns those golden eyes back on us, and Malek forgive me for my stupidity, but I can’t look away.
“Godsdamn,” Eian mutters.
Exactly.
She’s not just majestic, she’s terrifying, and I am here for it.
“Mine,” Alic whispers, jarring me from the haze of my thoughts.
His? The fuck she is. Inexplicable rage climbs up my ribs and sits at the base of my throat, but I won’t let myself act on it. I breathe in deeply and welcome the frigid air into my lungs, letting it freeze out the anger and leave nothing but the cold, cruel calculation this situation demands.