Page 55 of The Spark that Ignites (Shattered Soul #1)

“A corrupt king’s orders. I have rotted here because I trusted in a man who tricked me.

Convinced me I was fighting for justice.

I cannot even find solace in death knowing it will never come.

” Arborius’s head tilted up and he made a pained sound.

“I can still see the sky. So close and yet ... I cannot taste it. The cruellest of punishments.”

Her throat worked as he stared longingly through those deep fissures in the ceiling. “I ask again, what will it take for you to give us what we seek?”

“What we all seek in one way or another.” The dragon licked its bloody gums, a wicked gleam in its eyes. “Freedom.”

Emmery opened her mouth to reply but Vesper wrapped his hand around her bicep and yanked her back. “We can’t,” he hissed.

“That is my price.” Arborius reared his head, laughing again. Perhaps he was more than a little mad after being trapped for so long. “Everything has its price.”

“How do I know you aren’t lying?” Emmery pressed, struggling from Vesper’s hold. “How do I know that you didn’t kill these people for your own sick pleasure?”

“Dragons cannot lie, Fallen Star.”

Emmery glanced back at Vesper. “Is it true?”

“Yes.” Vesper’s jaw clenched. “But, Emmery, we can’t free him. The barrier is connected to those chains. If we do, the whole thing will break down.”

Her teeth ground together as she asked, “Well then what are we supposed to do? Were you going to steal it from him? Take it unwillingly? That’s wrong, Vesper. I won’t molest this poor creature. And we can’t leave him trapped like this.”

“It’s—” He grappled for words. “There’s no other way.”

She shivered, imagining him tapping into a vein as the dragon roared in pain. “ No ,” she snapped. “There has to be some other way.”

“Emmery, there isn't. Let me—”

“ Vesper ,” she demanded, wanting to scream. To make him understand. “We have to do something!” Emmery’s world swam around her, ebbing and twisting as her mind raced.

Wrong, wrong, wrong—this was wrong .

Vesper’s eyes flared. Wild. “He’s killed, Emmery. You see the evidence all around you. He took all these lives whether it was a lapse in judgement or not. He’s a monster!”

“So have I!” Her words hung in the air, saturating the room already filled with death and decay.

Her heart painfully stretched and constricted as something fractured in Vesper’s eyes.

Died. Maybe his perfect image of her. He knew her admission wasn’t about the beggar woman.

That it held a darker confession. “Would you have me in chains too? Strung up like some sick, twisted marionette? Left to bleed and suffer endlessly?” A deadly silence followed her reveal.

Vesper’s jaw clenched and his hold on her arm grew cold, binding like a shackle.

Her heart splintered and she turned back to Arborius. “I would like to make a deal.”

This poor beast had been trapped for a century, surrounded by death and not able to find his release even as he bled and rotted from the inside. She saw herself in those chains—her manacled life beyond the gate. And Vesper’s family had done this. Trapped this creature.

“I’m listening,” the dragon purred.

Vesper’s grip on her arm tightened but she wrenched from him. “A trade,” she said. “You give us your essence, and we free you with the promise of a future favour.”

“It will be done,” Arborious rumbled hungrily. “Now, free me .”

Vesper’s voice was frantic. “You can’t do this. You don’t understand, the barrier—”

“We can’t leave him like this! Look at him! Don’t you want to right your family’s mistakes?” Her rising voice fell deadly quiet as she asked, “Did you know he was here like this?”

“No, I—I didn’t know.” His eyes searched hers. “I hate this as much as you do but he killed all these people. He slaughtered them—”

“You said you aren’t your father.” Her words suspended in the air between them. “Prove it, Vesper. Show mercy. He’s suffered long enough.” Emmery reached into her pack and thrust a small bottle into his hand.

Vesper pushed it back at her. “I can’t. If we break his chains ... there are people on the other side, we can’t let through. Dangerous people.”

“Whoever they are, we’ll deal with them. Please , Vesper,” she begged.

“I don’t know what to—I can’t make this choice. I don’t ...”

She searched his face for a semblance of understanding. “You don’t need Izora here to make this choice for you. We need the essence, and you know this is right.”

Vesper’s eyes flashed and he groaned between clenched teeth. “ Fine .” He faced Arborius. “We’ll free you in exchange for your essence, but you must offer first.” Authority rang in his voice as he stared the dragon down. “These are my demands.”

The dragon narrowed his blood-red gaze. “Surely this is a trick. I have been burned by your kind before, Prince.”

Vesper’s words were clipped, angry, “I suppose we could use force if it fits you better.”

An excruciating moment passed and Arborius growled, breaking the silence. “Come forward,” the dragon ordered. “Let this be done.”

Emmery clutched the bottle, fear pooling in her stomach as she advanced on numb legs. The dragon tracked her every step. Her lips parted as she gazed up at Arborius’s gloriously terrifying face. He could easily reduce her to ash or devour her in a single bite. Would she even feel her own demise?

She lifted the container. Arborius closed his eyes, exhaled, and a tiny white spark floated into the bottle, flickering into a white flame.

Studying it, she staggered back into Vesper’s hard chest. He steadied her with a hand on her shoulder, plucked the bottle from her grasp, and stowed it in his pack. Emmery turned to ask how to free the dragon, but Vesper was already retreating.

“Vesper!” she called after him. “What are you—”

“I said I would free him, Emmery,” he replied over his shoulder. “I didn’t say when.”

Arborius roared, his tail thrashing with his dwindled strength. The ground trembled as the chains strained but held. Vesper inched towards the exit, fear and remorse in his eyes.

“I’m—I’m sorry,” he started. “I’ll free you, but I can’t now. I’ll return; you have my—”

“Do not say I have your word!” The dragon's roar was now weaker; torment laced in its voice. “Your word means nothing .”

Emmery didn’t think, only acted. All she knew was the injustice eating her conscience and she couldn’t leave this creature to endure this torture for a moment longer.

It was instinct that led her.

Instinct that pushed her to rip away her bandage and squeeze until the wound reopened. Blood lathered her hands as she rubbed them together and gazed up at the dragon. She only prayed the chains acted as the barrier did.

Emmery reached out for Arborius, but Vesper caught her arm.

The dragon snarled, teeth bared, and Vesper backed toward the exit.

Emmery squeezed her eyes shut, grasping the cold metal around his ankle, and envisioned the chains shattering one by one, disintegrating to dust as she had with the barrier.

It happened with sprinting speed, the cracking of the metal, the crumble of the ceiling, the thundering of her heart in her ears.

She launched herself backward as the metal splintered and released.

Arborius crashed to the floor and roared—an untamed beast. He shook like a wet animal, unfurling his great wings as fresh blood oozed from the hook wounds but unlike before, they knit together, healing faster than any Kenna could.

Emmery’s stomach sank and she staggered back.

Was this a mistake? What if he turned on her? What if he was truly mad? Regret coiled quickly in her chest.

Gods, Vesper was going to kill her. Arborius shot him a venomous glare before his eyes flicked to Emmery. He leaned down, his breath no longer reeking of death but now wood smoke and sharp mountain breezes.

Speaking too low for Vesper to hear, he breathed, “To second chances. Let us rewrite our stories.” The dragon gave her a terrifying smile and chuffed, a white spark landing on Emmery’s wrist. She winced at the sear, the iridescent ember crackling under her skin.

Their pactum. “I look forward to you calling on our bargain, Fallen Star. I have great expectations for you.”

The dragon’s massive wings stirred a whirlwind of dust, and the decomposed bodies melted into the cavern floor as Arborius ascended through the ceiling, chunks of stone raining as he vanished into the sky.

A phantom wind chased them from the cave, saturated by a feeling Emmery couldn’t place.

A premonition.

Whatever it was, it left a chill on the nape of her neck.