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Vierbalt, surprisingly, was the first to run. He turned in place and shoved his son, Bel, to the ground before Rath, fleeing toward the castle as servants moved from his way.

“You will pay for what you did to Asha.” Rath’s draconic voice boomed, smoke billowing from his mouth.

With only a bare spit, a lance of fire shot forth, hitting its target true with a resounding hollow boom of air pressure and a muted scream that petered out into a croak of nothingness.

The meat that collapsed looked little like the human it was and Rath pushed his body forward, muscles he’d not moved in months rolling beneath his skin.

The freedom and pleasure he felt in his greater form was second only to the taste of seared flesh and crunch of bone.

Though, the earl was far too thin of a man to have any real substance to him.

Turning in place, uneven cobbles turned and flipped under his considerable weight. Rath gulped and gnashed his teeth as Bel stumbled to his feet. With a long swill of his tongue, he spat upon the ground, letting the twang of metal bouncing break the eerie silence. The earl’s signet.

His expression shifted from resignation, fear, denial, and, surprisingly…acceptance. Which, honestly, made the prospect of eating him somewhat less appealing. Rath snorted a flick of fire at him, the lance of it striking the male in a nonlethal blow.

Leza was far more interesting. He ran. His scream made Rath’s predator brain howl with pleasure. He was prey, unworthy of battle, but amusing to toy with, which Rath rarely did.

“Fucking monster! They all see you. They’re afraid of you. We’ve lost half our country, and you sit in your mountain towers jerking off to our suffering !” Leza screamed over Bel’s cries of pain.

What cries Rath didn’t hear were ones wishing the two to live. No cries of defense. No hearts around him beat with pity.

In a guttural voice, churning in the depths of his throat, Rath spoke.

“We do not meddle in the affairs of mortals, especially not in a war that started and will finish in the pockets of wealthy men. Our gold does not take lives. It sustains them. Had Tippen Valley been at risk of starving—we’d have bought whitestone in trade for food.

Had my mate been treated kindly and given to me whole—I’d have done anything asked to mend the war.

I’ve done what I could, and will do what I can.

And the kindest thing I can do for the residents of your valley is to end you . ”

Leza’s last expression was a snarl, no prayers on his lips to his god, no praises or calls to Baltheir. Just his own arrogance swept away by fire until naught but char and meat filled Rath’s mouth.

Rath swiveled his head toward Bel, narrowing his gaze as he cowered and prayed. “Not this one.”

Rath shook his head and cleansed his mouth with fire before wiping a paw over his face. It wouldn’t do for him to shift into his more human form, only to be splashed with gore. Plus, crunchy bits between his teeth were unpleasant at the best of times.

As Rath shuffled away, he nuzzled down to give his wyvern the reptilian version of a hug before pulling his magic to the core of his being, swallowing the darkest fires until his bare form rested in the hollow of enormous footprints, the ground below still gently steaming.

If anyone stared, Rath cared not. The nude body they saw was nothing more than a veneer.

Footsteps drew closer to Rath as he bent low and pulled his breeches on, making easy work of the buttons beneath nimble fingers. A polite ahem alerted him to King Reigh, flanked by his attendant, while the rest of the nobles stayed back at a comfortable distance. “Rath.”

Rath turned to face the king, working his tunic on before tucking it into place. “You’ll need Bel for a time while the new family takes over. He’s not completely useless and may ease the transition. See he keeps his prick to himself.”

The king’s face soured as Rath tugged on his embroidered jacket. “That is sound judgment, but our agreement stands, yes?”

“I will send Ghreid down. He will evaluate the deal, and we will purchase the port if you can meet our demands. He will know better than I on the finances of the kingdom and what would best benefit us both.” Rath stared at the streaks of fire and disturbed courtyard, bricks upturned and buckled.

The haze of human flesh smoldering still hung in the air.

Bel’s whimpers drowned out under the attention of one of Reigh’s attendants.

“You’re the king. Why give him that much power?”

“Because I am the king. I am not the treasurer. I am for war and orders. I am not an artist or a mage. I am neither a sommelier nor a connoisseur of fine food. I appreciate them, but the correct person for the job is the best I can offer you, and the right person comes with the right authority, you understand. Can you handle it from here? I have a wedding to attend.” Rath adjusted his jacket and gave Reigh a sidelong glance.

“So you’re a glorified head of staff?” Reigh sniffed but kept his distance, ready to cower if needed. The stink of fear had Rath’s dragon licking his teeth and ready for more. Ready for his mate .

“Something like that. If you’re so eager, come to Sauria. You can attend my nuptials and speak with Ghreid.”

“I’ll have a gift sent by.” Reigh stepped back and gave Rath a nod of respect.

“Shame.” Rath mounted Heckle and whistled for his men. Milling servants stared at him with shaken horror. “And to anyone else who is curious—Asha is doing well.”