Page 30 of Court of Secrets and Flames (Dragons of Tirene #2)

Chapter Thirty

“Lark? Tell me what’s happening!”

A river of fear drowns Sterling’s voice.

Shadows eat at the ground, growing closer, flooding me with dread. I can’t stay here, not a second longer.

With a desperate twist of my body, I fight against the hold of his arms, only one thought in my mind.

I have to get away.

For a heartbeat, his grip falters.

That’s all it takes. Bending to the side, I jerk my arms free. My wings snap out, my feathers pushing him back. I’m falling, plummeting away from him, the wind roaring in my ears.

Sterling shouts, his voice distant as he dives after me, his commands lost amidst my panicked screams and pounding heart.

I’m beyond hearing, beyond caring. I need distance, space, and separation from whatever’s threatening to consume me. “Please! Just…let me go.”

I am a comet streaking toward the earth, wings tucked tight and head pointed down. My body burns up with the need to be alone—far from him, far from everything that reminds me of pain and loss and powerlessness.

Away. I need to get away.

The ground rushes up to meet me. It’s not the ground I fear, though, but the crushing weight of a hundred unspoken words and the looming shadow of betrayal.

The desire to flee fuels me and adds speed to my muscles. My wings catch and cup the air. All the drills Sterling has put me through have perfected my timing, even if my new wing muscles aren’t particularly strong. At the last second, I flare my wings. Heat pours up from my hands, adding additional lift and slowing my fall with brutal efficiency.

My boots slam onto the courtyard’s stone with such force that I somersault forward to reduce the momentum.

Ignoring the pain, I sprint toward the palace entrance, my body heavy with marsh water and regret as my trousers cling to my skin and inhibit the ability to move faster.

“Slow down, Lark.” Knox’s boots slap the stone as he pursues me. “Talk to me. Whatever you’re feeling, whatever it is, we’ll work through it.”

His words are like wisps of smoke, evaporating in the wind of my hastened steps. My heart hammers in my chest, each beat a drumroll of panic that drowns out his calls. Somewhere inside me, I recognize that this sudden terror came out of nowhere and my reaction doesn’t fit the situation. But the stampede of fear has trampled the voice of reason.

On the way to my room, I rush past Hyde—his permanent scowl in place—along with the curvy, shiny-haired lady. In a dim recess of my mind, I notice them eyeing our muddy clothing, but the thought dissipates as I continue racing for safety.

As I near my chamber, the din of my own terror begins to recede, replaced by an aching exhaustion. The door looms before me, a barrier between the turmoil within and the calm I seek. With a shove, I send it crashing against the wall, the bang reverberating through the empty corridor.

Inside, I slam the door shut with a finality that seals me off from Knox and the rest of the world. But the pounding in my head persists, a relentless surge that propels me onward. Clothes rip and fall away in my haste to shed the weight of them, of everything.

It’s too much. Everything is just too much.

I can’t breathe. Can’t think. These emotions…they’re overwhelming. I’m drowning.

The bathing chamber echoes with a cascade of running water that promises purification. I summon my magic, and the familiar flames dance across my skin. They wrap around me, trailing along my limbs as I step into the bath, and I welcoming the rising heat as it meets the coolness of the water.

Minutes stretch into an eternity. The trembling gradually subsides as the water, now heated by my own conjured fire, cocoons me. I dunk my head, letting the water muffle the pounding from outside.

Slowly, the grip of fear loosens, and I am left adrift in the gentle embrace of steam and silence.

As I step from the steamy confines of my bathing chamber, my skin still bright red from the magic-infused heat, the incessant knocking on my chamber door persists.

I dress in a simple tunic and loose trousers before padding across the room with bare feet, where I’m met with a tableau of worried faces.

Rhiann, Mother, and Leesa wait in the corridor. But there’s no sign of Sterling.

Mother scans me for injuries, and Leesa’s wide gaze brims with unspoken questions. Rhiann stands a step behind, her ever-perfect posture somehow conveying deep concern.

“Are you all right, Lark?” Mother’s voice trembles, and I find I’m too shaken to protest her presence. “The prince told Rhiann you might need us.”

An invisible hand grasps my heart.

Even when I panicked and ran, Sterling still took care of me.

I force a weak smile, my mind racing to weave a believable tale. “Just…just an attack of nerves. It’s hard to explain.” I hate the lie even as it slips free. But what is the truth? The fear I felt over the palace still lingers in my mind. “The enormity of everything hit me all at once.”

Leesa steps forward, brows knitting together. “But what brought it on? Surely there’s more to this. Do you want me to find Duchess Breann? She offered to help you before…when you got your wings.”

Mother clears her throat, her voice gentle yet firm. “If your spirit is troubled, maybe a prayer would help?”

And Rhiann, ever the diligent caretaker, suggests with grace, “Some soothing tea, perhaps? Or would you prefer scented cloths to ease your rest?”

Their intentions seem pure, but their offers tighten around my chest like bindings. I need space and time to unravel the knot of panic still lodged within me.

After I insist on being alone to rest, their hesitant retreat grants me the room my lungs have craved. Each step they take feels like another stitch releasing from a too-tight garment.

The door clicks shut. Alone at last, the silence of my chamber presses against my ears.

In bed, I pull the blanket over my head, cocooning myself in darkness.

But even in this self-imposed exile, I’m not free from the relentless pursuit of my own mind.

Is madness creeping up on me? Or is this simply the price of a life entwined with deceit and unspoken truths?

The fabric of my shelter flutters with the force of the deep breath I draw. Why did I feel the need to escape Sterling? The dread, the panic, the onslaught of overwhelming emotions came on so fast. Almost as if they weren’t my own.

And then it hits me.

Those weren’t my emotions at all.

They belonged to the dragons.

Perched upon the fire paddock wall, I attempt to read The Chronicles of the Mother Wurm as the early morning light chases away the last vestiges of darkness. The lingering scent of dragon smoke and salt from the nearby marshes lace the crisp air. It’s serene here, a stark contrast to the turmoil that churned within me for much of the night.

Unable to concentrate, I eventually give up on the book and tuck it into my tunic.

Since I woke, I’ve been trying to piece together what happened. Then I focused on how I could explain to Sterling why I reacted the way I did when I didn’t understand it myself.

The past evening’s events play in a constant loop in my mind. A perfect day. A possibly life-changing dalliance with Knox. The sting of his betrayal still smarts, but I understand now what led him to make the decisions he did.

Then the piercing crescendo of panic tore through me, shredding that moment into tattered remnants of confusion and fear. I know now those emotions weren’t my own, that something must have terrified the dragons. Which I find especially concerning considering I haven’t spotted a single dragon this morning. What spooked them? What could have had them so worked up that they projected all of their fear and concern so strongly?

The torrent was so sudden and so potent that I didn’t even realize what was happening.

I need to speak with Sterling, explain what occurred, and hope he understands. But what if we don’t run into each other today? What if he’s so disgusted that he doesn’t want to train with me, or see me at all?

though a deep sigh escapes me, a heavy weight settles on my shoulders.

I spot a figure I recognize strolling along one of the paths around the palace. With a quick flick of the wings I can officially call and dismiss at will, I’m able to catch up easily.

“Walk with me?” I land beside Leesa, who smiles when she sees me. “Unless you’re busy…”

“Too busy to spend time with my favorite little sister? Never.” Leesa chortles, wrapping her arm through mine. “I went to your chamber to check on you, but you weren’t there. You must have gotten up early. Are you feeling better after your…attack of nerves last night?”

“I’m your only living sister. Pretty certain I’d still be your favorite even if you had more sisters, though.” I slide her a grin, and she rolls her eyes. “And yes, I do feel better. But it wasn’t an attack of nerves. I didn’t realize what happened until later last night. I…it’s going to sound crazy, but it was the dragons. I was feeling their emotions on my way back from training with Sterling. I sort of panicked and ran. Literally.”

She shoots me a you have some serious explaining to do look. “Okay, first of all, since when do you call him Sterling?”

Of course she would comment on what I call the prince and not my intense empathetic bond with the dragons. “I called him that at Flighthaven…when we started…you know, when we were…together. And then he betrayed me and abducted me and brought me here, but you know all that. Well, we’ve sort of reconciled…I guess.”

She cocks an eyebrow. “And it’s back to Sterling? Not Knox?”

“Yeah. I suppose it is.”

“How was your training? Or whatever it is you two were doing before you felt the dragons’ emotions.” She bites her lip, like she’s fighting off a smile. “And I didn’t mean to brush off what happened with the dragons. That doesn’t sound good.”

No, it certainly doesn’t. “It’s okay. I need to figure out what was going on with them, but I’d like to talk to Sterling and explain what happened and why I freaked out first.”

Leesa regards me with suspicion. “You weren’t training at all, were you?”

“We were training.” I pause. “At first.”

She points at me. “I knew it! I want to know all the details, and don’t leave anything out. I know I cautioned you before, and I think you need to be even more careful now given your betrothal to the king, but any man who makes my sister glow like that is worth the risk. Tell me everything.”

That’s exactly what I do. I talk about my first encounter with Sterling when I smacked into him at Flighthaven and he was an arrogant ass, about our flight yesterday that developed into way more, and everything in between.

By the time I finish, we’re sitting in the gardens by the fountain, and the noon sun is high in the sky.

Then, the unmistakable flutter of approaching wingbeats sends a jolt through me. Leesa and I both scan the sky. The familiar form of the captain of the king’s guard looms closer, and something tells me he doesn’t bear good news.

Hyde lands in front of us and regards me with a cool stare. “The king requests an immediate audience with you.”

Ten minutes later, I’m standing in front of King Jasper in his private chamber. For once, the space is empty of people, save for the king and Hyde.

My pulse quickens with dread. “You wanted to see me, Your Majesty?”

“Yes.” His gaze flits over me, and he takes his sweet time before explaining what this is about. There’s an edge to his demeanor that rings an alarm in my head.

Though my pulse kicks up, I force myself to remain calm. “Is something wrong?”

“You could say that.” He steps closer, and his expression could cut glass. “I’ve tried to be patient and give you time to adjust to the idea of marrying me, but I see now that was a mistake, and that you mistook my kindness for weakness.” His hand snakes out and clamps down on my upper arm. “Do you think I’m an idiot?” he hisses.

Alarm crawls along my skin. I’ve never seen Jasper angry like this before, and my instincts urge me to tread cautiously. “No, of course not. And I’m very appreciative of your patience. If I haven’t said as much, I apologize.”

“Really? If that’s the case, then why did I receive a report about you and my brother that doesn’t sound very becoming of my future queen? Did you really think no one would see the two of you together?”

My heart thunders so loud, I’m afraid the others will hear. Shit. Things aren’t looking good, but maybe there’s a chance I can still play this off. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty, if I’ve offended you in some way, but I’m sure it’s a misunderstanding. My training with the prince requires a lot of close contact?—”

“So you do think I’m an idiot, or at least a pushover. Well, I can assure you I’m neither. I’ve been willing to make allowances for your situation, even house your adoptive family, but what I cannot do is allow you to make a fool out of me or this disrespect this crown.”

His fingers dig into my skin until it hurts. When I wince, he relaxes his grip but doesn’t release me.

I do my best to placate him. “I promise you that I’m not trying to do either of those things. And as I said before, I do appreciate the care you’ve shown me and my family.”

“Good. Then I’m sure you won’t mind signing a pledge in front of witnesses agreeing to accept the betrothal and set a wedding date.”

I wet my dry lips. “I…I can’t do that.”

His eyes narrow, and when he speaks, his voice is dangerously soft. “Oh, I think you’ll find that you can. Perhaps a stay in the dungeon will help motivate you to have a change of heart.”

My stomach crashes into my feet.

Oh, fuck.