Page 1 of Mantle (IMMORTAL FLAME #3)

~Vorzyr~

Agony infused every part of me.

I was crucified to the Throne Room floor by ten of House Titanus’ mightiest and seasoned dragon warriors, their magical hooks driving through flesh and bone alike, at the behest of my parents.

My roars thundered through the space.

They weren’t just rooted in physical pain.

Fury bled through.

Anguish and grief screamed from deep within me, needing to be heard.

My talons burst forth and I growled, panting and sweating all over as I dug them into the floor, fighting against the brutal and vicious assault keeping me down.

“He’s fighting it too much! Commence Ashbinding immediately!” my father’s command sounded, cutting into my roars, grunts, and panting.

A chill rolled down my spine, which was really saying something with the burning, raging pain assaulting every part of me.

Ashbinding?

It was an ancient practice that had been employed centuries ago as a war tactic to vanquish enemies quickly and efficiently during battles of old.

Since then, it had only been used in extreme circumstances, such as when a dragon went mad or grew completely out of control and was considered unsalvageable.

It was a reprehensibly cruel and utterly sadistic practice.

To be Ashbound was to be turned into a breathing corpse.

A hollow thing, stripped of fire, stripped of soul.

Because… the ancient punishment meant to extinguish a dragon’s fire forever.

That chill borne from adrenaline and terror at the sound of that awful punishment being invoked became much more in the next moment as it began.

I heard them chanting, their magic altering to fulfill the spell, the awful practice.

Their magic ripping through my flesh turned to ice flooding through me.

They were no longer only tearing through me to keep me down.

They were reaching for my fire.

Reaching to kill it.

Reaching to make sure I would never breathe flame again.

“Stop!” I spluttered, my talons clawing wildly at the floor. “Don’t… don’t do… this.”

“You have brought it forth,” my father called over.

“If you had submitted and not attempted to fight your fate, there would be no need for it. You would have been granted a quick, merciful death. As it is, we cannot trust that you will go quietly. With your dragon fire extinguished, it will weaken you to the point that your dragon hide will become vulnerable and a death blow can be administered.”

“Argh!” I cried, ripping my talons from the floor and fighting to pull myself up, bracing my hands beneath me.

But the hooks and the Ashbinding were absolutely devastating me.

I tried to call my dragon fire, sucking in a harsh breath and summoning it forth.

But it wouldn’t come.

They were holding it back.

Holding it back as they worked to kill it entirely.

I struggled harder, panic, rage, and agony colliding in a devastating symphony of sensation, and I felt my flesh ripping, wounds widening, bones being scraped to shit, from the magical hooks as I battled against them.

“Motherfucker!” I screamed.

Sweat drenched me, soaking my clothes, along with so much fucking blood I was losing at a far too rapid rate.

My body was shuddering uncontrollably from the brutal inundation slamming up against the Ashbinding itself now coursing powerfully through my veins, so fucking potent now that I could feel it taking hold of my dragon fire, starting to eviscerate it.

The process was damning and horrific, but it didn’t take long.

And if it reached completion, I’d lose the essence of what I was.

I tried to call my magic, but I was too weak to manage it, and it couldn’t come from nothing.

“Almost there,” one of the dragons uttered.

“Good. This is rather distasteful,” I heard my mother say.

Distasteful? That was the extent of it to her?

“It won’t be long now,” my father reassured her.

I strained to look as he conjured forth a Ceremonial Dragonbone Blade, then started over to me and those surrounding me who continued to stream their poison into my veins.

“Forged from the remains of Malrik Titanus, one who fell in disgrace. Once this process is complete, I will use it to breach your dragon hide as only this can, pierce your heart, and this will all be over for you, son.”

“Don’t… call me… that,” I ground out. Then I hissed, “Zepharion.”

He was no father to me now.

I glared at my poor excuse for a mother. “Serapha,” I spat.

I lurched as the spell drove deeper.

Zepharion drew closer and I took in the pearl-white blade veined with cracks of old magic. I could sense Malrik’s essence imbued within it. The essence of my bloodline.

The very thing that was now attempting to take my life, no doubt to wipe all trace of my existence while they were at it, all trace of my special abilities.

And that was what they’d become to me— special.

Because not only did I stand apart, in a way that wasn’t just fucking detrimental and dangerous like the perception my parents had about it, but I was also in a position to help Ariana, my found family, and the supernatural world as a whole.

That was how I stood apart from House Titanus now, and the whole motherfucking Dracoryn Realm as a whole. I wasn’t the same as Malrik. I was so very far from it.

It was a motherfucking tragedy that my own family couldn’t recognize that.

But it was too late to prove it… I couldn’t… I couldn’t hold on much longer.

As the spell continued to progress, wracking my body, making me shudder violently, sweat, bleed, and roar… the latter waned… my roar fading to grunts and weaker utterings of agony.

I couldn’t move.

It was a fight to remain conscious.

And drawing in a breath was becoming near impossible.

I was fading.

A strange tingle around my right wrist pulled me back from the edge.

It morphed to a soothing sensation that spread through my hand and along the length of my arm, before covering my body entirely.

It seemed to be… pushing back against the torture being inflicted upon me.

Not able to stop it, per se, but somehow easing the pain.

Enough for me to breathe.

Enough for me to stop shuddering uncontrollably.

Enough for me to hold on.

I strained and just managed to make out the sight of a rose-gold glow emanating from me.

From a band around my wrist that I’d never seen before.

Rose-gold.

Motherfucker… it wasn’t possible.

How the—

In the next second, the entire room shook violently.

A harsh, unforgiving wind whipped all around, making it difficult for the ten bastards tormenting me to remain standing upright.

In moments, it actually had three of them stumbling back, their magic petering out.

And then the hefty, ancient doors to the room were decimated by a bolt of immense rose-gold power, which gave way to fucking lightning in seconds, radiating out everywhere and descending upon those harming me.

I strained again and choked in utter shock as I saw none other than Kai striding into the room, his hands weaving in wild movements as that lightning burst from him.

“Release him!” he thundered, his magical lightning tearing into all ten of the dragons surrounding me, making them convulse wildly against the onslaught where they stood, unable to move away from its electrifying hold.

I felt the Ashbinding pause in some sort of stasis because they couldn’t continue on.

Zepharion boomed back, “You cannot interfere in Dracoryn matters, especially not those of House Titanus!” He spat, derisively, “Mere sorcerer. You do not know what you do. Your very presence is threatening diplomatic relations between this realm and your own. You will face charges for this heresy and disrespect of our kind. The Guardian Movement will sentence you to years in The Void for such an offense.”

“The offense is all yours,” Kai rumbled in that dangerous tone, his eyes clouded with darkness, his ferocity barely checked, and I could see his struggle not to look at the state of me, as he fought to focus on the precarious situation at hand.

“Murdering the Heir to House Titanus is a grave crime.”

“He is no longer heir,” Serapha told him.

“You haven’t made that official, so he still is in the eyes of the supernatural world.

Murdering any being is a horrific offense in itself, but a dragon heir?

That’s another level altogether. So I would think twice about condemning me to anyone outside of this room.

Believe me, it won’t play well in your favor. ”

Despite it all, I couldn’t help a partial smile forming at that. Kai Hunter at his finest.

“Fool,” Zepharion sneered. “You are in the heart of our power.”

In the next moment, the bastard signaled his dragons, a signal only known to dragon-kind, calling on them to invoke their draconic forms fully—it was a way to force back the magic Kai was currently keeping them trapped with, the power of the transformation could accomplish that.

But then I was shocked to my core when Kai suddenly bellowed, “Velrak sarnath!” Shield of flame, guard me!

The lightning that he’d invoked transformed into magical dragon flame, raging and swirling around every single one of them surrounding me. They roared and hissed as it prevented their transformations.

Kai was an outsider to the Dracoryn Realm. He shouldn’t be able to command our magic. Yet, here he was doing just that. He’d found a way to adapt it to meld with his own power and the way in which a sorcerer wielded magic.

“Sivrak dorath ven!” he called out next. Break the false binding!

I sucked in a harsh breath as I felt the spell finally actually break, those awful magical hooks leave me, detaching me from the floor.

Kai followed it up with, “Vrelkan karru thrak!” Flame, awaken and rise!

He was helping to bring my dragon fire forth while I was too weak to manage it on my own. Not so that I could unleash it, but so that it could overcome the damage the spell had done. Essentially, he was pulling it back from the edge of fading away entirely after what it had just endured.