Page 51 of The Dragon Wakes with Thunder (The Dragon Spirit Duology #2)

Thirty-Five

I do not care if he is integral to the new treaty accords. As long as he lives, he remains a threat to me and the kingdom. Eliminate him without fail, no matter the cost.

I woke to a burning sensation against my abdomen.

Shooting upright, I would have struck my forehead against rock if not for Sky’s strategically placed hand.

I blinked at my surroundings; we were in a dimly lit cavern, torchlight pooling against the iron walls like fiery dancers.

I felt the burning sensation again and reached into my tunic pocket, groping for the bird spirit’s seal.

To my surprise, I could not find it. Instead, my hand came away with nothing but fine powder, still hot to the touch.

She had not succeeded in making a bargain, I realized. And now—Qinglong had destroyed her.

Perhaps he would come for me next. But beneath the iron walls, I could no longer feel him—not the weight of his lixia, nor the strength of his will. All my senses felt dulled, cast in shadow. When I tried to take a step, the world tilted as if I were trying to walk on water.

“Easy,” said Sky. “You’ve lost a lot of blood.”

“Does the dragon know where you are?” said someone else.

I whirled around. Winter stood in the cavern entrance, a fresh cut marring his beautiful face. My eyes widened at the wound; never had I seen him with any physical imperfection.

Winter’s hand went reflexively to the cut. “It seems the spirits, like humans, prefer some over others,” he explained.

“His qi draws them,” said Sky, shaking his head. “As does yours.”

Because we both had greater spirit affinity than most—which was why Winter could walk the realm between worlds, even without a seal. I had seen him there once, during the Three Kingdoms War.

Could we use this to our advantage now?

“You’re both alive,” I said. “I heard—poison—”

“Yes,” said Sky grimly. “And I think I know who is to blame.”

“Would that be me?” someone asked.

We all turned as the newcomer ambled inside.

“Tan Kuro,” he said, smirking. “Leader of the Black Scarves.” He bowed low in mock deference. “What an honor this is—I get to finish the job myself.”

Sky drew his sword at once. Shaking, I followed suit, though I did not quite know who I was defending. Kuro raised a taunting brow at me, and I saw then that his eyes were back to their brilliant golden hue.

Baihu has returned.

“So you’re back to being the empire’s pawn?” Kuro asked me. “I wonder what that must be like…to have such low self-esteem that you’d let yourself be clapped in irons.”

Sky hissed. “She’s not a—”

As he raised his blade, I threw myself between them. “We need him, Sky!” I interrupted. “I can’t seal the rift alone.”

“She’s right,” said Winter, though he too eyed Kuro apprehensively. Kuro met his gaze, and held it.

“You’re the sixth prince, aren’t you?” the rebel leader said, a challenge in his voice. “I’ve heard about you. You circumvented my poison. How?”

Winter smiled, a smile that I suspected sent stronger men to their knees. Kuro considered him with an air of curiosity, but before he could speak, Sky interrupted: “How did you find us?”

“Why, the Ximing prince, of course,” said Kuro easily. “I never knew royalty to be so helpful.”

Sky’s lip curled as his eyes sought the shadows. “Is he here now?”

“I was sent ahead,” said Kuro, inspecting the iron walls with a shudder. “He’s dispatching a few messages above, but he’ll come.”

Sky smiled now, a smile that promised violence.

“Sky…” I said quietly. “Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

“What does that mean, Meilin?” Sky rounded on me, his former fury resurrecting. His eyes flashed dangerously, like lightning before a storm. “Are you so desperate to seek a new bedfellow?”

I gasped. “How dare you?”

“It seems a whore never forgets her ways—”

I struck him across the face. Hard enough that his head snapped back. Meanwhile, Kuro began to laugh.

I faltered, backing away as I stared at the red mark on Sky’s cheek. A mark left by my hand. I had struck him in the same way my father had once enjoyed hitting me.

Tears pricked my eyes as I considered the depths of my own monstrosity.

Was it all my fault—because I cared for Sky, and in the same breath, cared for another?

How could my heart be so duplicitous—and how could my feelings be so fickle?

Was I the only one who kept hurting those I loved?

Was it my love itself that was so damaging, like a poison that corrupted at the core?

“So,” drawled a new voice, “it seems the cat has left the bag, and my, it’s not a very sweet cat.”

Lei appeared in the cavern entrance, windswept and pale, but largely unharmed. His words, directed at Sky, seemed to drain the very air from the room.

Sky’s voice was like a growl. “ You —”

“I do have a name,” said Lei pleasantly.

Sky spat. “It was a mistake to let you live.”

“A very foolish mistake,” agreed Lei. “Though some seem to take pleasure in my company, I can’t understand why. Perhaps it’s simply that, compared to a few others, my company is slightly less foul.” He raised a brow at Sky, who bared his teeth at him.

They brought out the very worst in each other, and it pained me to see it. “Stop,” I said. “Stop this.”

Sky ignored me. “It’s a mistake we can remedy,” he said, advancing with his sword drawn.

“Di Di,” said Winter quietly. “We can’t kill him.”

“I don’t intend to kill him,” said Sky, his expression a mask of brutality. “I only intend to ruin that pretty face. Without it, he’s nothing.”

Lei smiled mockingly. “You think I’m pretty?”

There was no bluster in Sky’s demeanor, and it frightened me. “I’ll give you a face to match what you really are inside.”

“A very pretty face, then.”

“Please,” I said. “Stop.”

No one paid me any heed, as if I hadn’t spoken at all. I felt a wave of fatigue buckle my knees. I could’ve resisted it, I could’ve fortified my qi and straightened, but instead, as a last resort, I let myself collapse.

The effect was immediate: Sky lowered his sword and went to me. I let my eyelids flutter shut as I heard his distress. “Meilin?” He said my name over and over again. “Are you all right?”

Why do you only come to me when I’m in pain? I wanted to ask. Why is this the only way I can get your attention?

I felt him lift me, checking my pulse, then my wounds.

Silently, I called to Lei. “ Stop your bickering. Please. ”

“ A convincing performance ,” replied Lei in my mind. “ You should consider a future as an actress. ”

I did not respond; I was too vexed with him. Opening my eyes, I found Sky above me, his face familiar with concern.

“Forgive me,” he said quietly, and I could feel his hands shaking.

“It seems a whore never forgets her ways.”

I pushed myself upright, saying nothing. If I addressed this now, I would let the ocean of my guilt and anger flood this place.

It was not the first time I had been called a whore.

“While that was certainly entertaining, we do have bigger problems on our hands,” said Kuro.

I rose to my feet, ignoring Sky’s proffered arm. Focusing my qi, I guarded my mind not only against Qinglong but also against Lei, against my own emotions. I shut them all out, contending only with the external.

“I’m going to find a way to seal the rift in the veil.” I addressed Kuro, my voice echoing across the cavern walls. “Will you stand in my way, or will you join me?”

Kuro swallowed, his eyes meeting mine in recognition. Here we were, back at that same crossroads—but last time, we had both made different choices.

And yet, back then, Jinya had still been alive. The Ivory Tiger had not turned her back on her own vessel. The Azure Dragon had not broken free of the spirit realm. And I had na?vely believed I could escape the consequences of my own actions.

“You sought the dragon’s power, and the power corrupted you.

Now you wish to forsake it, and return to who you once were.

But the world itself is irrevocably changed.

Even if you find the spring, qinaide, and even if you succeed in relinquishing your powers, do you really think you can go back to the person you once were?

You will live with what you have done, for the rest of your life. ”

Kuro glared at me, then at the other princes. I bit my lip, wondering if he would choose defiance just for the sheer sake of it. But then I heard the guilt in his voice: “Jinya wouldn’t have wanted this.”

I capitalized on that guilt. “Do it for her, then. For her memory.”

Kuro sighed. “What’s the damn point?” he asked. “You know we’ll be remembered as the villains of this story. Their fathers”—he pointed at the princes—“will make sure of that.”

I shook my head. I did not know if it was na?veté or stubbornness that drove me, but I truly believed there could be another ending to our story.

I would make it so.

“There’s still time,” I said, repeating my mother’s words to him. “Remember—history is always being rewritten.”

“You won’t be alone,” said Winter. “Let us set aside our differences and support one another.” He paused, looking around the cave. “ All of us.”

With another sigh, Kuro nodded, as did Lei. We all turned toward Sky. His mouth twisted, his eyes scornful. I could feel the unhappiness radiating off him. But slowly, meeting my gaze, Sky too nodded.

“A Three Kingdoms truce,” said Lei, eyes glinting with mirth. “A real one, this time.”