Page 90 of A Kingdom of Sand and Ice (Kingdom of Gods #2)

The Council will fall. It will be rebuilt. And in time, it will fall again.

This has been the cycle for a thousand years.

It always ends in corruption.

No one should wield such power.

It corrodes the soul.

Tabitha Wysteria

The land of fire and dragons stretched before Dawn.

Vast fields of scorched earth, jagged rock, and villages nestled like forgotten embers around the larger, imposing cities.

Drakonians were a people famed for their opulence, their intricately crafted architecture, and their insatiable hunger for superiority.

Dawn couldn’t help but envy them.

She had grown up in a kingdom where the earth yielded nothing but dust and despair, where hunger gnawed at bellies and hope wilted beneath a sky of endless grey, where the rain fell often and without mercy.

It was a barren realm, a place where nothing grew without the coaxing touch of magic.

The remnants of buildings lay scattered like bones across blackened grass that had never dared to grow again.

Most forests had long since vanished, devoured by the flames of dragons in the past. And yet, what stirred most bitterly within her wasn’t the ruin.

It was the knowledge that her people possessed the power to mend it all… and simply chose not to.

They drank from goblets laced with old grudges, steeped in hatred and tradition. Magic could revive the land, restore its beauty, bring wealth and strength and dignity. But the Council would not permit it. To rebuild was to risk forgetting. And forgetting, in their eyes, was the ultimate betrayal.

Dawn understood then, why so many of the younger witches and warlocks had turned to Hagan, why they had abandoned the voices of their elders. They were tired of living like vermin, scuttling through dirt and ruins, forgotten by the world. No, they wanted more. They deserved more.

And Dawn… she had stood beside Hagan unwaveringly. Without question. Without doubt. She would have given her life for the cause.

So when Hagan had asked her to attend court, to seduce the Fire Prince… she hadn’t understood, not at first. She couldn’t see how such a task would bring them any closer to the future they longed for. But still, she obeyed. No questions asked.

Oh, how she had fallen for those golden eyes and that disarming smile.

For the prince so many whispered about with disdain, calling him cold, even cruel, because he spent his days not at court, but on the wall with his men.

His silence had bred rumours, stirred questions.

What secrets did he keep locked behind that quiet stare?

Dawn had uncovered them soon enough. And it was those secrets, the ones he hid from the world, that had made her love him all the more.

But when she had finally confessed, foolishly believing that love, their love, would be enough to earn his forgiveness, he had not embraced her.

He had turned his back. He had looked at her as though she were something vile, something wretched and unworthy of pity.

The loathing in his golden eyes had pierced her more sharply than any blade.

And yet… she had continued to love him.

Love does not vanish simply because it is no longer returned.

No. No matter how she tried to wrench it from her chest, it lingered, stubborn and aching.

She had spiralled into despair, drowning in hatred, sorrow, and that ever-clinging thread of love.

Love for the man who had destroyed her. Who had proved her right in the end.

Because no one could truly love a witch. Not once they saw the purple eyes. Not once they remembered what that meant.

In the years that followed, Dawn did all that Hagan asked of her. She carried out orders with ruthless precision, killing the names on her lists without hesitation. She poisoned, she plotted, and became the very thing they had always accused her of being.

If a monster was what they wanted, then a monster they would have.

‘Why have you stopped?’

Dawn stiffened at the sharp edge of the wyverian prince’s voice, laced with irritation.

‘My feet hurt,’ she muttered, with just enough petulance to make it sting. The moment his dark eyes narrowed, she pulled a theatrical face and reached out. ‘Carry me.’

Oh, how she delighted in provoking him.

‘No.’

‘Is this how wyverians treat women?’ she asked sweetly, quickening her pace to keep up as he moved on without missing a step.

‘You’re not a—’ He bit the words off, jaw tightening, but she had already heard enough. You’re not a woman. Because to them, witches weren’t people at all. They were neither women nor men. Just abominations wrapped in skin.

‘Are you so certain?’ she said, arching a brow, her voice silken and mocking. ‘Shall I lift my skirts so you might check for yourself?’

‘You were starting to vex me a little less these days,’ he muttered. ‘You've just managed to ruin it.’

‘What a terrible shame,’ she replied, utterly unrepentant.

Dawn turned her eyes towards the distant silhouette of Fireheart and let out a dramatic sigh.

It was still painfully far off, a smudge on the horizon beyond endless trees and thorns.

Her feet throbbed with every step, raw with blisters, the skin torn and bleeding inside her boots.

They had been trudging through the blasted Forest of Endless Trees for what felt like eternity, its enchantments stretching the path with cruel glee.

And now they had endured yet more punishing days, trudging beneath the relentless, scorching sun, with barely a drop of water to sustain them.

‘It’s going to take days ,’ she groaned, and she no longer cared if she sounded like a petulant child.

All she wanted was a proper bed, a nice meal, and to peel off her boots and elevate her poor, battered feet.

‘I still fail to understand why you insist on heading towards Fireheart. Your army lies in quite the opposite direction, commander.’ With a huff, she kicked a small pebble down the path in irritation.

‘How many times must we circle this conversation?’ Kai sighed, weary.

‘If Fireheart burns, we go. We’ll slip inside the city and see what stirs beneath the smoke.

If fortune favours us, we’ll gather intelligence before my army arrives.

It may yet give us an edge.’ His gaze swept over her, sharp and knowing.

‘Stop pouting. I’m certain you can endure a few more days without swooning into Ash’s arms.’

Dawn tilted her chin defiantly, her annoyance written plain across her face.

In truth, she had been restless to return to Ash, the knowledge of Hagan’s plans weighing heavy upon her.

Yet, with each passing day, another scheme had begun to take root, one that would lead her far from the path Hagan had so carefully set.

No, she had no intention of following his game to the letter.

A new plan had begun to unfurl… and it involved a certain tall, exasperating wyverian prince.

‘Surely no one has ever swooned over you,’ Dawn muttered under her breath.

‘Witch.’

‘What?’

Kai paused, something unreadable flashing in his eyes.

He must have seen the truth of her exhaustion written all over her face, because whatever biting remark had been on the tip of his tongue died there.

His shoulders dropped slightly, his posture no longer rigid with disdain.

Something softer passed over his expression, something perilously close to pity.

And that, Dawn could not bear.

She hated pity more than cruelty.

‘We can ride my shadow, I suppose.’

Dawn blinked, uncertain of what he meant, until he whistled.

She gasped as a horse emerged from nothingness, called forth like a spirit from smoke.

It was a magnificent creature, forged from shadow and ash, its form flickering and shifting with every breath.

The beast tossed its head in what could only be described as disdain, clearly unimpressed to be summoned.

‘You must be jesting,’ she snarled through gritted teeth. ‘Are you telling me that all the while we were stumbling through that cursed forest, blistered and half-dead, we could have been riding that?’

Kai said nothing, too absorbed in stroking his wretched, spectral beast.

‘Why?’ she snapped. ‘Do you despise me so much that you'd rather suffer than allow me a place on your horse?’

His gaze snapped to hers—sharp, blazing, and full of barely contained rage.

‘Of course I hate you, witch,’ he hissed.

‘Because of you my sister Haven is dead. Alina Acheron is dead. And I will never forgive that. You may not have wielded the blade, but your kind did.’ He drew in a long, slow breath, his chest rising and falling as he fought to steady himself.

‘But I didn’t hide my shadow from you to cause pain.

I left him behind because I feared the forest’s magic might harm him. ’

Dawn edged away from the warmth, the quiet, unspoken affection that appeared in his eyes as he turned to his horse.

She had never seen such a look on his face before.

It was almost mesmerising, dangerously addictive, the kind of expression that made her want to bottle it, to stretch the moment until it lasted forever.

She wondered, just for a fleeting second, what it might feel like to have Kai Blackburn look at her that way.

Perhaps, if he did, she would feel a little less like a monster.

She bit her lip, hesitating.

Should she tell him? Should she say the words that would banish the torment from his eyes and ease a small fragment of his pain?

She’s alive. Alina Acheron is alive.

The words perched on the edge of her tongue, but something stopped her. The same damned thing that always stopped her.