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“You should not wander,” Taristan said again, his voice sharper.

“I am surrounded by knights at all times, not to mention an army of thousands who would die for me if given the chance,” she answered, shaking her head.

Some already have, she thought, thinking of the men who froze in their tents or slipped on the climb, falling to the rocks below. It had been weeks since they left Rouleine, and Erida demanded a grueling pace from her army. No matter the cost.

“And I have you,” she added, taking her consort by the arm.

Taristan shifted. “The closer we get to Iona, the more careful we must be. All it takes is one arrow from an Elder bow,” he said, pointing a finger to her chest, directly over her heart.

With a soft smile, Erida wrapped her hand around his own. “Now you choose to fear for me,” she said, amused. “We’ve come too far for that.”

“I fear for you always,” he muttered, as if admitting a crime. “Always, Erida.”

Her grin widened, her grip on his hand going tight.

Then a wind buffeted the tent, strong and sudden, like a howling gale. Erida tucked against Taristan, his cloak billowing around them in a scarlet curtain. Across the camp, her soldiers braced, tents and flags flapping against the gust.

The high mountains were no stranger to rough winds. But Erida furrowed her brow, tensing against the wall of Taristan’s body.

The wind was oddly warmed. And it smelled of...

“Smoke?” Erida said aloud, her face drawn in confusion.

Above her, the blood drained from Taristan’s face, leaving him paleas a ghost. His arms tightened around her, all but crushing her into his embrace.

“What is it?” she snapped, pushing against him, her heartbeat quickening.

Something like a drum boomed in the sky, deep and shuddering. The air quivered with the sound, and another gust of wind blew. This time, the soldiers of Erida’s army threw themselves to the ground, some of them screaming. Some of them going for their weapons. Some of them sprinting down the pass in either direction, scattering like mice fleeing a cat.

Taristan cursed above her, low in his throat, the sound reverberating in her core. She glanced up through the cage of his arms, watching as a shadow crossed the camp.

A shadow cast by a cloudless sky.

She wanted to be afraid. All reason told her to be afraid. Instead she felt only grim satisfaction, welling up from a mind that was not her own.

The dragon was too big for her mind to comprehend, a storm cloud over the mountain peaks. It shot through the cold air like a bird of prey, steam rising from its scales. It had bat-like wings and four legs folded against its massive body, claws as big as wagon wheels. The rising sun flashed ruby and jet against its back, its bejeweled hide reflecting the light.

It landed against the mountain peak above the pass, dislodging rocks and snow to rain down on the camp. The beast seemed as large as the mountain itself, its tail curling around jagged stone. Her men continued to run, yelping and shouting, crying out to the gods in their desperation.

Erida knew only one god, and He laughed within her, delighted by their fear.

The dragon gave a roar into the heavens, arching its serpentine neck, jaws gaping wide. The sound threatened to split the mountains in two.Embers glowed at the back of its throat, waves of heat rippling from its mouth.

Something dragged at her legs, begging her to move. Without thought, Erida obeyed, extricating herself from Taristan’s arms. He shouted after her, but she ignored him, sweeping across the camp to face the dragon head on.

He is not afraid, so I have nothing to fear, she thought, her heart singing.

The dragon’s wings splayed wide, the points hooked with smaller claws, the membrane thin between the joints. At close range, Erida could see scars and arrow holes, the edge of its wings ripped and torn.

As her husband wore the battle of Gidastern on his skin, so did the dragon.

It fixed on her with a single eye, the pupil swirling with red and gold, like the heart of a flame. Erida could not help but smile.

She recognized those eyes.

She saw them in her husband.

She felt them in herself.