Page 26 of The Dragon Queen (Ember: Queen Of Dragons #6)

EMBER

Ireel, the intensity of the heat overwhelming. Instinctively, I take a step back, but I run into the solid wall of muscle that is Rafe's chest.

Behind us, the door slams with an ominous groan.

I turn, scrabbling past Rafe in hopes of finding another handhold on this side, but even as I do, my senses are flooded with the rush of water. The brilliant light of Malik's tattoos flickers before going out, the ink subsuming back into his umber skin. His hand on mine goes hard, and he yanks me back.

"We can't." He shakes his head, and I feel through our bond what I already knew.

The lake has collapsed back in on itself. Even if we could reopen this door, there's no going back.

There's only forward.

He releases my hand, and a chill sweeps up my spine despite the overwhelming heat. The deep magical connection between us recedes like the tide, leaving tingles of magic in my blood, but they're not enough.

It's time to face the fire. Literally.

Sweat beading from every pore on my body, I turn to find we're in a small room, hewn from the same black rock as the rest of this gods-forsaken place. While it seemed at first that the entire chamber was ablaze, in reality, it's only the center of the room that's actively on fire.

Not exactly a huge consolation.

Swallowing, I take a step forward and then another. Rafe reaches for me, and I slip my hand into his without even thinking, his big, rough fingers so strong and secure around mine that I instantly feel safer.

Voice gravelly, he asks, "Is that--"

It isn't really a question. He knows as well as I do that it is. Squeezing his palm, my throat dry, I nod.

Deep in the heart of the conflagration is a slowly spinning circle. It's made of fire itself, but through the licks of flame, dark metal gleams in intricate filigrees and swooping arcs.

My entire chest sucks inward.

The Crown Of Cinders. We've found it. At last.

It's like a dam breaks inside me. I led my mates here based on a myth from a story book. My friends are risking their lives outside this tomb as part of a full-scale, kamikaze-style attack, based on my hunch.

And I was right. It's here.

"Go on." I nudge Rafe. All he has to do is reach into the flame and pull out the crown, and we can finally end this thing.

When he doesn't move, I glance up at him. His brows are pinched, his mouth turned down at the corners.

My easy confidence threatens to falter. "Rafe?"

He blinks, and the uncertain expression on his face melts away. He rubs my knuckle with the pad of his thumb, an easy, self-assured smile replacing his frown. His tone is all swagger as he says, "Watch this."

Tingles of magic gather in my fingers and my toes, heat blooming within my gut. Rafe waves his free hand, and deep orange flames engulf his arm.

One flick of his wrist and the burning pyre at the center of the room explodes.

My other mates flinch as sparks shoot outward, but the heat passes right through me, leaving blank space around the Crown. I take a step forward.

But the instant I do, Rafe's magic falters, and there's a sudden void in the pit of my abdomen. I turn back to him, stunned, and his eyes flip wide with naked fear, and oh Gods.

"Rafe--"

In the next instant, the fire comes roaring back to life, bigger and hotter and more terrifying than before.

"I--" Rafe lets go of my hand, and any magic we'd had left gutters--and then goes out.

RAFE

What the fuck.

What. The actual. Fuck.

The Fire Dragon within me roars, and black smoke burns the back of my throat. We are fire. We're flame born of nothing. The magical blaze before us should be under our dominion.

But it doesn't give a shit about my magic.

I try again, but there's no spark. My connection with Ember is strong enough; its power beats in my chest. But the crackle of magic between our hands has gone silent and dark.

I growl, squeezing her fingers too tightly.

"Rafe--?"

"Shh." I shake my head, and I know I'm being a dick, but I have to focus.

Just last night, I breathed fire into Ember's soul. She was freaking out about the certain death we were about to walk into, and I reminded her that there's a reason to fight.

That's what I do. I'm fire and rage, and yeah--that's gotten me in trouble more than once. I'm the hot-headed, impulsive live wire. The disappointment of my family; the throwaway heir who was always doomed to self-immolate.

But I'm here. From day one, I've offered Ember the heat of a thousand suns, and that's always been what she's needed from me.

Until now. Fanning the flames did nothing but give the rest of her mates singed eyebrows.

Hilarious, but not helpful.

Behind me, barely audible over the roar of the flames, Jianyu clears his throat, and fuck him. Seriously.

But I can't push his judgment out of my mind. These guys...Ember... They're all counting on me.

A crushing weight lands on my chest.

My entire life, I've been the weak link. We've come so far--risked so much. We found this legendary, mythical crown; if we fail now because of me...

"Rafe," Ember murmurs again, soft and reassuring, and I don't deserve that. She should be screaming at me. Berating me, telling me exactly how fucking useless I am.

But she won't. She would never.

She loves me. With exactly the fire that I love her.

I force myself to take a breath. Looking down at her, I just about fall into her eyes. There's no expectation there. Maybe a little desperation, sure, but she has all of this faith in me, and I want so fucking badly to be worthy of it.

I want to do more than burn for her.

I want to be better for her. More.

From behind me, Jianyu touches my shoulder. I bristle, but his hand is soft, and yeah, this guy has been my enemy for most of my life. He believed the worst lies about me, back when we were children.

But he's also the guy I've been naked with every night for months. He touches Ember just as tenderly as I do.

I turn my head, and his dark gaze connects with mine.

"You can do this," he tells me, and he actually, honestly believes it.

Ember nods, brushing her thumb over the back of my palm, and the immature little shit inside of me wants to be insulted. If I could take their encouragement as condescension, I could get mad, and being angry always fuels the fire. It messes up my life, but it helps me forget everything else.

Rage isn't the only fuel, though.

Fuel.

I turn back to the inferno surrounding the crown. Fire needs fuel--even magical, annoying, Fire-Dragon-confounding fire.

What if I don't need to fan the flames?

What if I need to starve them?

My gut pulls in. That's not the usual style my magic takes. But I can be more than just a mindless blaze. I have patience. Control.

I intertwine my fingers with Ember's once more.

The magic from earlier returns, slower and softer than before, but that's good. That's what we need. It gathers in a golden swirl of light within the darkness of my chest, flowing into me from Ember, and I lift my hand. Bright sparks dance on my fingertips.

A hungry flame inside me licks at the confines of my ribs. There's an explosion of fire waiting to be unleashed, but I keep it tightly contained.

Instead, I send out tiny trails of heat. I close my eyes, feeling for the way they travel. It's a strain, but I mentally map the lines of energy that feed the fire encircling the crown, and--

There.

Fire magic flows in an arc around the Crown of Cinders. When I threw all my energy into dispelling the flames, it only gave them more power, but I can use that in reverse.

I open my eyes.

The magic growing between me and Ember blooms, her darkness melding with my fire. I send out brighter traces of flame, and they pull at the energy fueling the conflagration.

"What--" Malik starts.

Storm shushes him, thank the Gods, because this takes all my concentration.

"That's it," Ember whispers, and she's right there, her magic kindling off of mine, and together we direct our flame higher and higher.

From the outside, it can't look like we're doing anything, but the entire energy of the room slowly shifts.

Finally, our trap is set.

"Now," I breathe.

We yank as one, and all the power behind the fire at the center of the room goes up in smoke, burned to nothing in an instant, and that's exactly as long as we need.

The cloud of flames surrounding the Crown evaporates, leaving the black circle of gleaming metal spinning slowly through thin air. The reflection of the fire still casts a deep orange glow, though, and it's seared into my retinas.

This is called the Crown Of Cinders for a reason. According to legend, the mother of all dragons imbued it with her power. Infighting among the five nations broke her heart, and it broke the heavens, and she cast the crown into a well of dragonfire.

But it was not destroyed. It rose, imbued with the power of the elements, and it's laid in wait for all this time.

Waiting for us.

For Ember.

Ember's hand tightens around mine, and I glance down to find purple stars in her eyes. She reaches out with her other arm.

The fire magic reverberating between us dims, the flames darkening to a band of black limned in deep red.

Behind me, Storm draws in a rough breath.

The Crown Of Cinders begins to float through the air toward us.

My pulse races, exhilaration rushing through me. My mate-bond with Ember ignites. When I flick my gaze to hers, she's glowing golden and red and purple and blue and white and the deepest, darkest, most impossible black.

The Crown slips itself into her outstretched hand, and a single tear slips down her cheek. Her lips curl upward, pure relief washing through our bond.

But the ground shakes. Thunder echoes in the distance.

And then all the lights go out.