Page 32 of Once the Skies Fade (Immortal Reveries #2)

Chapter 32

Matthias

O ryn’s quickly fading pulse spurred me on. Reaching one of the guards was his only hope at surviving, so I pushed through the strain in my lungs and the aches in my muscles toward the light up ahead. The sound of voices sparked new hope. Maybe he’d stand a chance.

Or maybe they’ll execute me on sight.

I shoved that thought aside. It was a possibility, sure, but focusing on fear wouldn’t help me save my friend.

Three steps from the clearing, I spotted Calla. Her dark hair was plaited down her back, but loose strands framed her face, some stuck to her forehead and temple with perspiration. An intimidating male ushered her behind him, except this was no fae. He had rounded ears—a human—yet, Calla seemed more than comfortable with him. She trusted him.

Keeping my feet firmly planted in the shade of the trees, I locked eyes with Calla, who watched me from behind the man’s massive arm.

“Hey, Killer,” I said, half-smiling.

I should have known better, of course, but the nickname had grown on me. The man took a step forward, hostility blazing in a pair of eyes that reminded me of Connor’s—in shade and intensity.

“That’s no way to speak to your queen,” he said.

I raised my chin as best I could with Oryn still draped across my neck. “To be fair, she’s not my queen.”

Calla’s gaze swung up to the man, and I could have sworn that was concern written across her face; though whether it was for me or for him, I didn’t know. Not that it mattered.

“Yet,” he clarified. “Did you forget you’re not allowed to leave the forest?”

“I don’t intend to,” I said. Balancing Oryn, I reached a hand up to my collar and pulled the black vial from beneath my shirt. “I know the secrets of the forest. I can live here quite happily…for the next ten hours.”

“Then why are you here?”

“My friend here was gravely injured. He needs a healer, now.”

“Unfortunately for your friend there, I’m to kill any contestant who leaves before sundown,” the man explained.

My eyes narrowed at him, and I dropped the pendant back to my chest so I could readjust Oryn. “So I carried him all this way for you to just…kill him anyway?”

“Appears so.”

Sighing loudly, I knelt down and eased Oryn off my back and onto the ground. Stretching out my back and shoulders, I rolled my neck to ease its aches as I rose to my sore-as-fuck feet. Calla watched me, brows lowered over her dark eyes. I slowly wet my lips, chuckling when the queen’s gaze lowered to my mouth.

“You know, Killer—” The man growled in warning, and I raised my hands in a placating gesture, dipping my head in reverence toward Calla. “Your Majesty. A little mercy shown here could go a long way in fighting the rumors.”

She didn’t move, though her expression shifted ever so slightly.

Jutting my chin toward the male, I shrugged casually. “I’m sure your guard dog here could handle getting him to a healer, no?”

As I’d hoped, the man snarled, his shoulders tensing as if he actually had hackles to raise.

“Nice doggy,” I said, patting the air with my hand.

“Easy, Asher,” Calla said, lifting her fingers to his arm, though she kept her attention firmly on me. “It’s not wise to taunt him.”

“Maybe you should put a leash on him,” I said, knowing the queen wouldn’t warn me without cause, but I was having too much fun to quit now. Asher’s lip curled, revealing impressively sharp teeth—and oddly enough a small dimple in his cheek, though I refrained from commenting on how it ruined the terrifying vibe he was going for.

“Do you put a leash on that mutt prince of yours?” Asher asked, obviously trying to wriggle under my skin.

Not that it would work.

Offering a congenial smile, I widened my eyes in satisfaction. “So you know who I am. Seems best to keep the barbs between us. You don’t see me offending your queen.”

“She’s not my queen either,” he noted.

Interesting.

I stilled. His name rolled around in my mind, familiar yet difficult to place. Not from my scouts’ reports, no. No one had mentioned an Asher or a human with close ties to Arenysen.

Asher’s bronze eyes studied me, unnerving and…

Oh, shit. I know those eyes.

At the signing of the treaty—the one depicted in the tapestry in my room—this man had been there, standing with the queen and princess of Arenysen as their king penned his name on that parchment. He and his brothers had notoriously fought for both sides during the war, working for whichever side offered the best financial return. Why so many still trusted them enough to hire them—as Calla had evidently done here—was a true testament to how efficient and effective they were.

“Asher? As in the dragon mercenary Asher?” I asked and pulled my mouth into an impressed frown.

Calla nodded, eyes closed. Asher stood even taller, which I hadn’t thought possible.

I swung my arm toward him and then gestured to Oryn. “Then he should have no trouble taking Oryn to your healers. Unless—wait—you take passengers, right? Can’t say I know much about dragons.”

He growled again, deeper and longer this time before addressing Calla. “There’s another guard a few hundred meters away. Get him to come retrieve the wounded.”

Calla’s forehead creased with concern. “Why? What are you going to do?”

“Nothing, as long as this bastard keeps his mouth shut, but I don’t trust him not to break the rules and leave the forest if I go.”

“No. It’ll be faster if you take him. I can handle Matthias,” Calla insisted, her eyes flashing my way.

A smirk pulled at my lips before I could think better of it. “I bet you could, Killer.”

The words were barely out of my mouth before Asher gently shoved Calla away from him. Now, I’d seen Connor shift enough times that the process had lost all its novelty. Asher’s was different. While Connor’s transformation seemed to roll over him, like he was stripping off his fae form to reveal the wolfhound beneath, Asher’s was explosive.

Not literally. He didn’t actually explode, but it was as though the dragon within burst through his human exterior. His arms swung out wildly as scale-covered muscles and glassy-black claws erupted into place. With a deafening roar—which I barely tolerated without covering my ears—he gave his head a violent shake until the blond hair and dimpled cheek changed into a massive horned head. Snarling, his jaws chomped at me as his clawed feet tore at the ground beneath an impressive body of gold and bronze scales with a silvery-white belly and immense golden wings.

“There he is,” I crooned, holding my ground. He stared me down with those same bronze eyes, now ablaze with fury that reminded me so much of Connor’s when his temper got the better of him.

“Stop it, general,” Calla said, though it was hard to hear her over Asher’s loud attempts to intimidate me.

“I had no idea dragons had a chivalrous side, did you?”

“Just go,” Calla commanded. “I’ll get your friend to the healers, but only if you return to the forest. Now.”

“Alright, alright. I’m going,” I said and started to back away slowly, hands up once again in surrender. “But next time you want to ogle me, you don’t need to hide in your shadows to do it. You may not be my queen yet, but I’m yours to handle whenever you need a little release.”

Her lips parted slightly, and I managed to send her a single wink before Asher bellowed with such force the trees themselves seemed to cower away from him. Then, digging his claws into the dirt and tucking his wings in tightly against his back, he charged me. I turned and ran, dashing around trees and ducking under low branches, not daring to look back at the beast now crashing through the forest behind me.