Page 121 of Courting the Dragon Prince

Luther threw back his head and laughed.

He laughed. And laughed. And laughed until the laughs turned into sobs.

He dropped his stinging face into his hands as sobs racked his body. He collapsed to the ground and hunched forward, a mixture of sobs and laughter escaping him as he bled and throbbed with pain.

ChapterFifty-Four

Onyx strode down the corridor towards his room. His hands curled into fists. The wrath pulsed steadily through his arteries.

What now? Where do we go from here?

He and Luther were married. There’d be no escaping that. They were bound together for life. But what sort of marriage could they manage now?

Onyx couldn’t even bear the idea of looking at Luther after what he’d learnt. How would they survive a lifetime together? His boots echoed down the corridor. Anyone he passed saw his face and scattered out of his way.

Onyx took a deep, shaking breath, trying to calm himself. He tried to fix the goal in his mind. He tried to envision peace for the Grey Mountains and an end to the war.

Then he remembered his sister Tourmaline dying, consumed by dragonfire.

With a yell, Onyx flung open the door to his bedroom. He slammed it shut behind him so hard the walls shook. He paced back and forth. He tore at his hair. He screamed.

Before one of the windows, he paused. He stared at the mountains, trying to breathe, trying to find some sort of peace amidst the chaos of emotions churning inside him. He closed his eyes, forcing the air slowly in and out of his lungs.

A picture of his sister flashed before his eyes. He imagined how she might have looked as she stood at the Mystic Mountain Temple, defending it against the dragon attack. He’d fought alongside her so many times that it was so easy to visualise.

In his imagination, he could see the dragons approaching. Onyx’s jaw clenched. Tourmaline would have gazed up at the flying beasts, sweat on her brow and dirt marking her skin. Her arms would have outstretched as she lifted boulders into the air and hurled them at the dragons. She would have stood proudly and bravely as she faced the dragons.

Tears slid down Onyx’s cheeks. He could almost hear her screaming, “For the glory of the Grey Mountains!” as she defended their sacred temple, knowing she could not win, knowing she would die where she stood.

Still, she’d stayed. She’d fought, defending the temple and giving the others a chance to escape. She must have been afraid, fighting the dragons alone. But her bravery and strength had not wavered as she faced the dragons. And her death.

Onyx fell to his knees, head lowering to the ground. A sob escaped him.

In his mind, he saw a familiar green dragon approaching Tourmaline. Luther’s wings flapped as he stared down at Onyx’s sister.

He pictured Luther opening his mouth and dragonfire spewing forth. Her screams filled the air as the fire burned her and reduced her to nothing but ash.

Onyx’s hands balled into fists against the cold stone of the floor as the sobs shook his body.

But no. He shook his head. That was not what had happened. Luther hadn’t been there when Tourmaline died.

Even as Onyx had hurled the accusation, he’d known Luther hadn’t actually killed his sister. Onyx had just wanted to blame someone for his sister’s death and for all the pain he had suffered.

Luther had not been the dragon to kill her. But it had been someone he fought beside. And if Luther had arrived on time, perhaps he would have killed Tourmaline.

Still, Luther had been the one to demolish the tower and much of the temple. He’d admitted to that.

Another image flashed before Onyx. Tourmaline running ahead of Onyx as the two of them raced to the top of the tower the day they’d come into their powers. Her breathless laughter filled the air. His own cheeks stretched with his smile. They reached the top, looking out over the mountains. She looked back at him and smiled.

But this time, Luther, in his dragon form, rose before them. He opened his mouth and breathed fire.

Onyx jerked his eyes open.

That isn’t what happened. I’m just imagining things.

He rose, shaking his head and wiping the tears from his cheeks. How could Onyx ever look at Luther again? How could he ever see him and not see the destruction of the Mystic Mountain Temple and the death of his sister?

Onyx strode to the flat stone dedicated to meditating. He sat and closed his eyes, desperately seeking to be soothed.