Page 53

53

Reyla

W e gaped at the monstrous slab of onyx so dark it seemed to drink in the light hovering at my fingertip.

The room pulsed harder, faster, the throbbing blasts of the walls impacting my ears before everything suddenly stopped. Dust filtered through the air, and my ears rang, but the room had stopped moving.

Farris whined.

Should we run back up the tunnel? Before I could suggest it, the split running the length of the altar began to pull apart, and thin wisps of darkness spilled out, gasps escaping a shroud. Inky blackness churned within the gap. I wasn’t sure if I dared to step closer or back away.

Whatever was inside that gap might not wish to be seen—but it had definitely seen us.

Twin dragons, three dimensional and carved in intricate detail, burst up from the gap, their silver bodies curving outward. The Evergorne Crest. Their teeth and claws snapped toward the other in frozen battle, and every ridge of their wings and every talon of their clawed feet gripping the platform under them felt alive. Their scales shimmered, catching the light, making them look like the surface of a stormy sea.

I stepped closer, my feet scuffing across the stone, studying but not reaching toward one dragon’s curved neck. I was afraid to touch. It felt wrong to claim even that as my own.

Before I tore my gaze away, the dragons' eyes caught mine, as sharp as glass. A shiver raced across my skin. They weren’t real, but something about the air felt heavier here.

“Wildfire…” Lore's voice broke through the silence. “You feel that, right? Like they’re alive?”

I swallowed hard, nodding, my heart thundering in agreement.

With a jarring thud, the platform beneath their clawed feet locked into place, as smooth and perfect as it had been before it split.

Split?

“Through true love, the split becomes whole,” I whispered. “Unbound by curse, unifying the soul.” I looked Lore’s way. “I told both of you that I loved you at nearly the same time. You were mortally wounded, and I thought I would lose you before I could tell you. I couldn’t let you die without knowing that I would give anything to save you.”

His fingertips trailed down my spine, and he curled around me to kiss my temple. “True love can heal the most terrible wounds. You healed mine.”

“Your soul was split by the curse, and with my words, I somehow fused it back together. I think that’s what the first part of the riddle means.”

His arms tightened around me. “I will love you in this world and all the others beyond.”

I wanted to turn in his embrace, kiss him, show him how much his words meant to me, but I worried about placing my back to the altar. The dragons had appeared for a reason, and I suspected we had more to do here before this part of our lives was finished.

Farris whined again and looked from me to the altar. Catching his urgency, I stepped out of Lore’s embrace and approached it again, studying the dragons before focusing on the slightly raised platform beneath them. At its center, I discovered a shallow depression and pointed to it. “What do you think that means? The rest of it is smooth. Is it a flaw or…?”

Lore stepped up beside me and angled his head to take in the depression. “No idea. There are no runes, no puzzle to solve in that area as far as I can tell. Maybe it means nothing.”

“But it’s centered perfectly.” I moved around it, looking at it from every angle. “It appears created and not a simple defect in the stone itself. It’s uniformly cut with eight sides, though two are longer than the others. I see tiny lines skimming across the base of the depression. That shape.” Straightening, I tapped my chin. “It reminds me of a cut stone, which…” Jeez, sometimes, I could be obtuse. I smacked my forehead with my palm and recited the second half of the riddle. “Then bring forth the jewel of the sky’s tear-bled hue. Only with your bond will the truth shine through.”

Isodine’s ring.

Dread and anticipation scrambled through me, and I grabbed onto the chain, dragging it out from beneath my leather tunic to dangle on my chest. Latching onto the ring, I slid it back and forth across the chain like Valera had when we first talked, the whizzing-whirring sound echoing in the now-still chamber .

“Look.” Lore pointed where three etched scenes had appeared in a circle around the depression, each vivid and carefully drawn. I traced them with my light, bringing the lines to life. They rippled and undulated, pulsing together like heartbeats.

He rounded the altar to stand beside me. “The first shows dragons encircling fae, and it appears as if they're warding off monstrous shapes clawing at the edges of the image.”

“You're right.” We stepped over to study the next. “The second shows a fae king. I assume he's the king. He's wearing a crown.”

“You also wear a crown. It could be a queen.” He stroked his fingertip down one of my ears, making me shiver.

I pursed my lips at him and pointed. “That figure has a dick.”

“What dick?” He leaned closer and then twisted his head to peer up at me, a crooked grin on his face. “I see a bulge. A big one, actually. It’s an Evergorne king, then, for sure.”

“You.” I squeezed his arm because I adored this man like no other. “The dragon with this supposed, big-dick Evergorne king is larger than the others around it. It's flaring its wings. Do you think it’s recognizing the fae king’s submission?”

“I do.”

“Any idea what that might mean?”

He shook his head.

We moved around to look at the third etching.

All the air in my lungs whooshed out.

“I think it's your fire starter guy again.” I gestured to what looked like the same crowned figure, now holding a small blade with a red stone against his arm. Blood spilled from the wound as the towering dragon dipped its massive head toward the figure. “It appears the dragon is recognizing the king’s might in this one.”

“That it is.”

“And that small blade. We know where we’ve seen it before.” We’d left it in our suite, not willing to risk losing it .

“I’m not randomly slicing open my arm for whatever dragon comes my way,” Lore said dryly.

“I wouldn’t suggest it.”

He swiped his hand toward the etching. “This does.”

“Maybe you should consider doing it, then.”

“Is this how Tempest bonded with a dragon?”

“She cast a spell. As far as I know, she didn’t gouge a blade into her arm while she did it.”

“I don’t know any spells for something like that,” he said. “And I can’t see how a dragon bond would help me in this situation. Nothing from my past suggests anything with dragons.”

“Except for the fact that everyone believes your crest holds ravens but I, who doesn’t appear to be touched by the curse, sees dragons. We’re missing something here.”

He sighed. “I see what you mean.”

“So, you’ll stab yourself in front of a big dragon with the blade the librarian sent me?”

“If need be,” he grated out through clenched teeth.

“I wonder what will happen then?”

“I’ll bleed.”

“Hmm. If a dragon bows down to you, it might be worth it.”

He lifted his eyebrows.

“What should we do with the ring? I mean, from where I’m standing, it looks like I could stuff it into the depression.”

“Let’s study this some more before you do that.”

We moved around to our original position and stared at the altar again. Lore's fingers hovered over the depression, but I was sure it wasn’t hesitation that kept him from touching. His jaw remained tight as he absorbed every detail.

“This could be related to breaking the rest of the curse,” I said.

He tilted his head my way and blinked.

I released the necklace's clasp and tugged it away from my neck, sliding the ring off before securing the necklace again. The blue stone gleamed in my light as I held it up between us. “I want to try placing it there.”

“Act however you feel guided, Wildfire. I trust you always.”

I held the ring out, the chain swaying gently from my grip.

Straightening, he watched me the way he always did, as if he saw every part of me, with no judgment, only unflinching belief. “We will not falter.”

Sometimes his simple honesty was a greater fluster than any flowery declaration. “Thanks.” My voice came out throaty.

His lips twitched, and he held out a hand, palm up. “I'll do it if you want.”

“No.” I pulled the ring closer to my chest, my grip around it tightening. This wasn’t about bravery. It wasn’t even about pride. The truth rang as clearly in my mind as the echo of those ancient runes: This was mine to do. The ring had been held for me alone. “It’s me. It has to be.”

His hand lowered, though his eyes never left my face. “As you wish, my queen.”

Perhaps, given the situation, it was a ridiculous thing to do, but I smiled.

I turned back to the altar, holding the ring between my thumb and forefinger as I leaned closer. The dragons loomed larger this close, their snarling faces a short distance apart, their bodies forever frozen in combat. The pedestal beneath them felt strangely alive, like the altar was watching every move I made.

Damn fates always messing with our lives. Or maybe in this instance, helping?

I rubbed my thumb over the top of the blue stone, noting the faint etchings that matched those at the base of the depression. Drawing a deep breath, I lifted the ring over the altar, aligning the stone with the hollowed shape. I lowered it until the cool weight of the altar pressed against my fingertips and the stone had been seated perfectly inside the depression.

The room remained silent, unmoving.

I swore the dragons above me were watching, mocking me, even, their eyes gleaming under my finger magic. Exhaling, I pressed the stone harder, as if force might bring about some reaction, but still, nothing.

“Of course.” Tugging the ring away from the depression, I stared at its faceted surface, then at the altar’s carved hollow. “I’m missing something.” I turned to Lore. “Any new riddles from the fates you’d care to share?”

His jaw clenched before his head tilted, a frown appearing on his face. “Let me try something.”

He took the ring from me and holding my wrist with my mating mark, he slid the ring onto my third finger. The blue stone winked as it settled into place, the fit perfect for my hand.

“Try now,” he said.

“What if you're supposed to do it?” I whispered, clutching my bejeweled hand to my chest. “My intuition could be wrong. You’re the cursed king. It could be you who has to?—”

“No.” He took my face between his palms, pressing his forehead against mine and locking our gazes together. “I love you,” he rasped. “Do you understand? What you’ve done for me means everything. With each breath, I thank the fates for bringing you into my life. It always has been and always will be you .”

His words settled in my bones, pulling me together even as my heart threatened to crack wide open. Silent, I nodded.

I shifted back to the altar and raised my trembling hand. Without hesitation, I twisted my wrist and pressed the blue stone down into the depression. It settled into place with an unnerving click.

The room rumbled beneath us again, the vibrations racing through the smooth stone walls around us. They throbbed as if the entire chamber had suddenly come to life and started breathing.

The dragons mounted on the top of the altar moved . Not a slow, creaky shift, but a fluid, predatory stretch, their necks arching and their jaws parting. Light glinted off their scales, making them look like molten metal, and I swore their growls vibrated in my chest. My breath choked off. Lore's grip on my arm tightened.

“Are they alive?” I whispered, my voice a thin hiss.

Farris backed up until his furry butt hit the wall. He sat, watching, his gaze never leaving me.

The air grew heavier, and my hair spun away from my head as if caught by static. The lull that descended in a whoosh reminded me of the moment before lightning strikes beside you. My pulse jumped in my throat, and I told myself I should look away, but I could not make myself do it.

The dragon's tails coiled up toward their spines before snapping back down, smacking against the stone like thunder. Their eyes swirled with golden fire. They locked onto me, predators sizing up prey. Someone's teeth chattered. Maybe mine. Lore's. Both.

Their necks stretched upward, and they cast enormous, serpentine shadows that swallowed the room.

The world held its breath along with us as…

…with a soundless roar, they blasted flames toward the ceiling.