Page 26 of A Court of Wings and Shadows

Because that roar, that roar, came from the isle.

Kaelith.

Her rage blasted into my mind like fire breaking through steel, hot and wild. Her fury wasn’t distant anymore. She wasclose.

Coming.

“I think you may want to reconsider that approach,” I said, my lips curling into a tight smile. “You’ve got less than a minute before my dragon barbecues your sorry ass.”

He sneered, the scar on his face twisting. “Your dragon doesn’t scare me. I could kill you and be gone in five seconds flat.”

I didn’t respond.

We both lunged at the same time, steel clashing with a ringing cry that shattered the quiet. His footwork was fast, aggressive—every movement sharp, efficient. But he wasn’t used to someone who could read pressure through a bond.

I moved with Kaelith’s fury thrumming through my veins.

He feinted high, twisted low. I spun, parried, stepped back to avoid the slice meant for my ribs. His blade grazed the edge of my arm, but I kept my stance, teeth clenched, refusing to give ground.

“You’re quick,” he muttered, breath ragged. “Shame.”

A growl erupted around me, but I knew it wasn’t Kaelith.

The sound split the air.

The guttural, primal sound rolled across the courtyard like thunder made of bone and ash, vibrating through the stone beneath our feet.

The assassin paused.

I took one step back.

He turned just enough to see the shadows begin to shift—air thickening, the heat rising like a breath before the flame.

Siergen had arrived. And his eyes held nothing but vengeance.

He moved from the shadows like he’d been born from them, one second nothing but darkness, the next, five tons of snarling menace cloaked in scales the color of dried blood. His body was low to the ground, muscles coiled tight, the crimson sheen of his hide shimmering like oil in torchlight. His golden eyes locked on the assassin, and his growl deepened, the threat made flesh.

I had no idea how he’d hidden so well, but that was Siergen, deadly and theatrical, the perfect predator.

The assassin stepped back, hands rising slowly.

“I was not sent to kill you,” he said quickly. “Only to assess your skills… and offer you amnesty.”

Siergen advanced anyway, another growl rolling from deep in his chest, the kind that spoke of hunger and old grudges.

“Siergen, wait!” I snapped, stepping in front of the assassin. “I want to know who sent him. He’s not part of the Order.”

Siergen’s clawed foot dragged across the stone as he halted, just barely. He huffed, hot air steaming past me like a warning.

“Talk,” I demanded, turning on the assassin, who was now slowly lowering his hands.

He sheathed his rapier with smooth, deliberate movements.

“My name is Rubin,” he said, with no hint of shame in his voice. “I am a member of the Crimson Sigil.”

I frowned. “What the hell is that?”

He tilted his head, calm now that Siergen wasn’t about to rip him apart. “We’re a collective of warriors, spies, and tacticians. We aim to eradicate magic in humans, by any means necessary.”