Page 173 of A Court of Wings and Shadows

Thwip.

The sound cut the air in two.

The arrow hurtled straight toward Theron, deadly, gleaming, and aimed true.

A royal guard lunged, shoving Theron hard, and the bolt struck him instead, embedding deep into the space just left of his heart. The guard collapsed with a guttural gasp, blood already blooming through the silver threads of his uniform.

Screams erupted.

I whirled?—

Just in time to hear a secondthump.

Time slowed.

Zander staggered, eyes wide in shock, his tunic already darkening around the bolt now buried in his shoulder.

“No,” I breathed, as he crumbled to the earth.

Kaelith’s scream tore through the skies like a blade through thunder.

I ran.

Chapter

Forty

The air vibrated with a rumble so deep it shook the very stone beneath our feet.

Hein descended like a meteor of silver fury, cutting through the sky with terrifying speed. His wings flared wide, casting a long shadow over the grounds, and every rider on the Ascension field instinctively stepped back.

Even Kaelith growled low in my mind—Hein is not calm.

Zander was on his feet again, the arrow still embedded in the flesh of his arm, blood trailing down to his fingertips. But he stood tall. Unyielding. His eyes, once lavender, had turned onyx, burning with quiet wrath.

Theron had just begun to stand again when Hein landed with a thunderous impact. The ground shuddered. The banners snapped wildly in the gust, and the guards flinched back as the massive silver dragon coiled protectively in front of his rider.

Hein’s neck arched, fire building deep in his throat, the heat so sudden the air shimmered around us.

The traitorous courier, the messenger who had delivered the lie, the chaos, smirked at the enormous dragon with the arrogance of a fanatic.

“Your species will be eradicated,” he spat. “Killed, caged, or bred into obedience. You are a scourge upon the human race.”

Hein roared.

It wasn’t a sound of fury, it was judgment.

And fire followed.

It erupted in a stream of orange flame that swallowed the man whole. His scream was brief. His death, quicker still. What was left of him was ash, blown away in the wind.

Hein turned slowly, his gleaming eyes locking onto Theron.

The prince regent, always composed, always calculating—staggered.

“You can’t…” he stammered. “You can’t threaten me. I speak for the crown?—”

Hein growled low, and the sound was like the earth groaning beneath us.