Page 65 of The Dragon King's Pregnant Mate

And now I'm going to prove it.

My wings catch the wind as I bank north, toward the ancient peaks where this all began.

Chapter 31 - Calliope

Something is different about the wind up here now.

I feel it first in my bones, then in my blood, then in the very air I breathe. The storm that's followed me since I fled Millrath months ago has changed. No longer just my magic responding to fear and need, but something older. Something that makes my teeth ache and my child's magic pulse like a second heartbeat.

I know Ulric notices too. I see it in the way his golden hair stands on end, how his scales ripple beneath his skin more frequently now. The air around us has grown thick with power that neither of us fully understands.

"Your magic grows stronger," he says, but there's uncertainty beneath the mockery. "Or perhaps it's not yours at all. Perhaps it's the child's. My brother's heir, already showing such…promise. We’re running out of time to chat, dear Calliope."

The way he says that last word makes my skin crawl. I shift carefully, testing my bonds, keeping him talking. I got one good kick in at his face. Now we’re at an impasse, me propped back in the snow, bound hands holding me up, and him wiping blood from his split lip.

"You never did tell me about your parents,” I say, though I know the story. I have to stall. “About how they died. About why you hate him so much."

His laugh holds an edge of hysteria. “I can see what you’re doing.” He paces the narrow ledge, and I notice for the first time the ancient carvings beneath our feet—runes that pulse with faint light when his boots touch them. "You don't understand. You couldn't. You weren't there when they died—"

"Then help me understand." I pour every ounce of sincerity I can muster into my voice. The longer I keep him talking, the more time Arvoren has to find us. And something tells me we need to be found soon. The air grows heavier by the moment, charged with power that makes even my weakened magic sing in response. "Tell me what happened."

For a moment, something human flickers in his eyes—grief, perhaps, or what remains of it beneath the madness. Then his expression hardens, scales rippling faster beneath his skin.

"You want to understand?" Steam rises where his feet touch the ancient stone. "You want to know why he doesn't deserve any of this? Why he has to learn what it means to lose everything?"

The transformation begins before I can respond. His body swells, bones cracking and reforming as scales burst through skin. Within moments he towers above me, a dragon of impossible beauty and terrible fury.

But something's wrong. The sacred ground seems to recoil from his presence, the very mountain shuddering beneath us.

Wind howls through the peaks, but these aren't the mindless storms of my making. Voices ride the bitter air—whispers in languages I shouldn't understand, and I don’t, but somehow. I know they’re speaking of ancient pacts and broken promises. Of brothers turned against brothers, of sacred bonds corrupted by power and pride.

The gods are watching. I feel their presence like physical pressure, drawn by my child's unique magic and the blasphemy unfolding in their sacred place. Their interest burns like ice in my veins, terrible and beautiful at once.

I will never understand the gods, I know now. I’ll never know a life without the familiar crooning and screeching of them in my mind, either.

Perhaps it was always meant to be that way.

Ulric rears back, flames gathering in his massive throat. Before he can strike, something shifts inside me. Our magic surges, stronger than ever before, creating a barrier of pure winter between us. Ice spreads from where I kneel, forming patterns that echo the ancient runes beneath us.

The old blood stirs, a voice whispers, both in my mind and in the howling wind.It’s happening, it’s happening, it’s happening.

This child…Another voice, colder than the first.The rift. It will restore the rift. It can heal what has been broken for good.

Perhaps the kingdom would be better broken.

A new day dawns!

Or the end of everything.This voice burns like frost, almost gleeful.Such power cannot be contained. Cannot be controlled.

Ulric's flames crash against my shield of ice, but the barrier holds. Through our bond, I feel Arvoren drawing closer, his fury and desperation building with each passing moment. I just need to survive a little longer. Need to protect our child until he finds us.

"You can't kill me." The words emerge stronger than I feel, carrying the weight of prophecy. A laugh ripples up through my voice, sharp, mocking. "You know you can't. The gods won't allow it."

Ulric's dragon-laugh shakes snow from the peaks."Gods?You think they care about us? About any of this? They abandoned us long ago, little bird. Left us to tear each other apart over scraps of power and—"

A crack like thunder splits the air. For a moment I think it's more of Ulric's blasphemy drawing divine wrath. Then I realize it's not thunder at all.

It's the crack of wings upon the wind. Coming fast.