Total pages in book: 247
Estimated words: 235897 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1179(@200wpm)___ 944(@250wpm)___ 786(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 235897 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1179(@200wpm)___ 944(@250wpm)___ 786(@300wpm)
Gods, if we miss it, if we’re too late and she kills Mira—
My throat threatens to close.
“We’ll make it,” Tairn promises as we descend the cliffs in a steep dive between the falls and the crowded Medaro Pass. It had been a treacherous, deadly climb in autumn, and we were cadets. I can’t begin to imagine how civilians—how children—are making the ascent.
“Do you agree that it’s a trap?” The words spill out before I can stop them.
“Of course,” he replies. “But you already know that. Otherwise, we would have discussed it over the last three and a half hours.”
Guilt wedges itself between my ribs as we plunge into a thick layer of fluffy white clouds.
“Do not dishonor me with such emotions,” he lectures.
“And how does Sgaeyl feel about me endangering Xaden?” I scan the clouds as best I can for the outline of wyvern, but the cover is thick and we’re moving too fast to be thorough.
“Had she not agreed, she would still be in Aretia, and your Dark One would be walking.”
Excellent point. “Theophanie took Mira because of me. I’m the reason she’s going through this.”
“You are our lightning wielder, and while your life may not matter more than other riders’, your signet does. You are the weapon and will have to learn to accept the sacrifice of others in your name if you want to win this war.”
Nausea churns in my stomach.
“And you think I should have accepted Mira’s death as a sacrifice?” We burst through the clouds, and the field comes into startling view.
“If I did, I would still be in Aretia and you would be walking.”
My heart sinks as I survey the landscape. The eastern fields approaching Draithus are covered in hordes of gray wyvern, setting siege against a line of dragons and gryphons perched between the guard stands along the city walls. They outnumber us in a ratio I don’t even want to calculate. For the first time, I’m relieved that Andarna chose to go. Brennan is brilliant, but this feels unwinnable. “Our estimates were off.”
“It appears so.”
But none of them launch to attack as we descend, nor do they impede the thick line of evacuees streaming from the city’s western gate.
“Molvic has been spotted along the cliffs,” Tain warns as he flares his wings, slowing our momentum.
Fucking Aaric. “If he gets himself killed—”
“He was seen flying south, away from conflict.” He spits every word in disgust.
What in Amari’s name could he be doing? “It’s not like Aaric to run away.”
“Nor Molvic.” Tairn levels out as we approach the northern field, where at last I spot a horde of a dozen wyvern waiting in a circle around Teine.
In. Out. I force myself to breathe. It’s unnatural to hold a dragon…captive.
The wyvern are perched on heavy chains that loop around Teine’s tail, bind his legs and his snout, and pin his wings to his thrashing body. Each line of metal is coated in his blood, and several of his scales litter the ground.
Theophanie stands in front of them, silver hair shining, holding one blade to Mira’s throat and another against her ribs.
My grip tightens on the pommels, and I can’t tell if it’s Tairn’s rage or my own stampeding through my veins, but it tramples every last ounce of my fear, my doubt, and my guilt until I am nothing but wrath.
How fucking dare she.
“She dies for this,” Tairn demands, his impact rustling the green meadow grass as we land twenty feet in front of Theophanie, who welcomes us with a smile.
She hasn’t drained the field…yet, but she has beaten the shit out of my sister. The right side of Mira’s face is purple and swollen, her throat carries a necklace of bruises, and blood drips from her left hand, but her leathers hide its origin. Theophanie’s scarlet long-sleeved tunic and pants aren’t helping with contrast, either.
“Agreed. Can you carry Teine if he can’t fly?” I unbuckle from my saddle as the others land on either side of Tairn.
“Not without sinking my claws into him.” He growls low in his throat. “Spend no more time on the ground than necessary.”
“I’ll stick to the plan.” Leaving my bag strapped behind Tairn, I adjust the leather-capped quiver and holstered crossbow at my back, check to make sure my conduit is tucked safely in my pocket, then dismount.
All Theophanie has to do is set her hand to the ground, and we’re all dead.
“I’m here, just like you wanted.” I hold out my arms, and power rises within me, heating my flight-chilled skin. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Brennan approach from the left, while Xaden and Bodhi walk in at my right.
“So you are.” The wind whips Theophanie’s long, silver braid as her smile cracks her chapped lips, and my gaze catches on the pulsing veins at her temples and faded remnants of the tattoo on her forehead. “And yet, you seem to have lost your irid. How inconvenient.”