Page 135 of Courting the Dragon Prince

“Onyx,” a voice called out. “Prince Luther.”

It was a voice so familiar to Onyx. It was a voice Onyx had known all his life. A voice that had guided him. Advised him. It was a voice that now meant betrayal and death.

“You can’t survive this,” Warden Flint called out. “Just come out and it will be over quickly.”

Neither spoke; they just clutched at each other.

“You are outnumbered!” his uncle yelled. “And from the looks of it, Prince Luther sustained a pretty bad injury. You won’t be leaving anytime soon.”

“Fuck you, you stone-shitting cunt!” Luther yelled, the insult bouncing off the stone around them.

Silence followed.

“Very well,” Warden Flint said. “It makes no difference to me. Either way, you’ll be dead and my plan will progress.”

Then the stone Luther leaned against began to crack. Onyx looked up as a fracture raced up the face of the outcropping. It began to split apart.

Without having to think, Onyx knew what his uncle was about to do. He was going to bury them.

Luther screamed.

Onyx wrapped his arms and body around Luther’s.

He closed his eyes, mind connecting to the rock plunging, crumbling, and cascading down towards them. Onyx held his breath.

With every ounce of his will, he pushed back. He forced the falling earth back, not allowing it within four feet of them. He gritted his teeth, straining as he guided the falling rock to settle around them, creating a pocket beneath the avalanche of stone, a cave beneath the giant pile.

Onyx focused, feeling the earth, sensing it settle. Onyx breathed in and out, just ensuring he had the rock under his control.

After a while, Onyx opened his eyes. But all that surrounded him was darkness. “The stone has stopped collapsing on top of us.”

He’d managed to do it, managed to create a dome beneath the debris that his uncle had rained down on them. The rock groaned, cracked, and clattered. But with minimal energy, Onyx could keep it from collapsing on top of them.

For a moment at least, they were safe.

Then Onyx realised Luther trembled in his arms, shaking and shivering, muttering to himself.

“Buried and dead,” Luther whispered. “I am buried and dead.”

ChapterSixty-Two

Luther squeezed his eyes shut. His fingernails dug into his scalp. “Buried and dead,” Luther muttered. “Buried and dead.” He sucked in short, sharp gasps of breath.

As he’d heard the stone split, terror singed his nerves. Luther had looked up and seen the rock falling towards him.

Luther’s past had finally caught up to him. Like a reckoning.

Images flittered before his closed eyes, one after the other. He flew through a tunnel, wings beating. He heard the crack of rock. He glanced back. The cave ceiling crumbled and crashed into those who’d followed him.

“Buried and dead.” Luther curled in on himself. “All of them, buried and dead,” Luther whispered. “And now I join my brethren. Now I meet them beneath stone in death.” He rocked back and forth.

“Luther!” Onyx shouted.

Luther opened his eyes and lifted his head. But nothing changed. Darkness surrounded him. “I’m dead. This is my afterlife. My damnation. An eternity beneath the rock.” His voice shook.

“No!” Onyx’s hands, warm and firm, squeezed Luther’s arms.

“No? No.” Because of course, why would Onyx be here? Why would this be Onyx’s afterlife? He didn’t deserve an eternity buried beneath stone. That was what Luther had earned.