Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 69119 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 346(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69119 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 346(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
“I understand,” he offered with a heavy tone. He withdrew a dagger.
“I suppose I identify with Leah’s plight. When I lost Leopold, I lost my entire world.” And now…
My gaze landed on Taron. Now, I was going to lose someone I craved but shouldn’t.
“You loved him,” he said, voice still so heavy.
“Ja.” Of that, I had no doubt.
A muscle jumped beneath his eye. “That… none of us knew.”
He got to work, motions quick and efficient, handling Leah’s body with a respect that comforted me.
Dang him. Without meaning to, I slipped from tolerance into something far more dangerous. I doubted I’d ever be able to go back to being enemies at war. If we severed the bond and said goodbye—when we severed the bond and said goodbye—I would remember him here, like this. The friend who’d helped me through a difficult situation.
“You were right.” Taron freed our prize.
My heart thudded at the sight of the lament stone. A small, round, transparent rock, glittering as if it contained a collection of tears.
The dragon prowled through my mind, its desire clear. Give her a warrior’s ending.
I glanced down at the dear thing, who’d guarded the stone with her life until my arrival. Oh, ja, of course. Leah had served the queen of her homeland well, and she deserved a warrior’s death.
As Taron cleaned up the lament stone and added it to the cloth holding the other ingredients, I gathered materials available inside the pen and built a makeshift pyre of sticks and rocks.
With my hand on Leah’s face, I spoke my thanks. Not just to her, but to all those who’d served me and died in service to the queen. “You will forever live on in the hearts you helped.” Then, I blew a gentle stream of my hottest fire from her head to her paws. The flames licked over her body and worked fast. Within minutes, she was ash, floating away in the breeze.
Finally, Taron whispered, “It’s time.”
Ja, with all three ingredients in our possession, it was time for us to return to the palace and brew our potion. And stay alert, expecting Lorik to attack.
At my nod, Taron extended a hand and raised me to my feet. We didn’t speak as we strode through the village, our pace matched without effort, not stopping until we reached Vogler, who patiently waited for us.
“You have been a gracious host, Staffholder,” I said. “Expect an invitation to the palace. We have much to discuss, including the needs of your citizens.”
He nodded his thanks and extended his arm toward a gate past the village garden. “The launch pad is this way.”
“Are you ready to fly again?” I asked Taron.
“Always.”
The silence resumed as we wrapped our arms around each other. The feel of him…his strength and the intensity of his presence screwed with my composure, but I hid it well. I was sure of that. One hundred percent. Holding his stare, I unfurled my smokewings, lifting us off the ground. Another flap and we soared higher.
I released him as soon as my wings caught a current. We glided through the night’s dark sky, now lit up with stars. A beautiful sight for a victorious journey, and yet, I felt as if I was flying straight to my doom. I tried to shake it off, but that only intensified the impending dread. Worse, my dragon still prowled through my mind, once again demanding, Burn him.
Cinders! The need to test him in my flames blazed, fierce and sure. I’d never been able to resist in the past, and shouldn’t have been able to resist now, with Taron. A difference I didn’t understand. Unless…
What if Leopold hadn’t been my firebrand?
Nein. Wrong. Of course he was. Had to be. The way I’d shaped my life after his death proved it.
Didn’t it?
And yet the question pressed harder. What if, what if, what if?
I’d assumed he was, though he’d never faced my fury. Never had an opportunity to calm me. Taron had, and he’d passed the test with extra credit. What if it had never been Leopold at all? What if this particular Locke was always meant for me?
If Taron could be made into a phoenix…if he were indeed my firebrand… if he could forgive me for the long line of Lockes who’d died in the past…if he could survive my flames… Longing gripped me. So many ifs. Questions, suppositions. Risks.
Could I—wait. Hmm. What was that? A cloud of smoke loomed ahead. Frowning, I narrowed my focus. The second I identified what I saw, my stomach roiled. Two shifters flew our way.
A very much alive Nyla sat astride the one on the left, and my injured father rode the other. Rainer, Lorik’s right-hand man. The former lay slumped over, soaked in blood and secured by rope. While Nyla possessed her hands and feet, Cedric did not.