Page 16 of Wrath of the Dragons (Fear the Flames #2)

Chapter Eleven

Elowen

It’s still dark outside as I bound down the side steps of the castle, leading to the lake littered with frost-tipped rocks.

I am unable to be confined a moment longer.

My dragons softly snore along the shore, and the dampness within the earth seeps through my pants as I kneel at the center of their circle.

Calithea’s silver eyes blink open and she moves her head closer to me, allowing me to trail my fingers along her snout as I hum a soothing tune.

They must’ve fallen asleep out of pure exhaustion and my heart twists in my chest when I think of them sleeping huddled together in the dragon chamber.

How old were they when they grew too large to fly within the confined space?

How many days did they wish to die while staring out at the skies they now fly through?

There isn’t a single thing I wouldn’t do to save them from suffering.

Delmira curls her tail around me as the others inch closer, drawn to my presence even in sleep.

All I’ve ever wanted were my dragons, not a crown or a kingdom.

I’ve always known I’d kill Garrick for what he did to them, to me, and now to Cayden.

But when I think of what my future looks like, it’s as if I’m staring at a horizon I’ll never reach.

All I’ve done with my life is wake up and try to survive to the point that I’ve forgotten how to live.

Footsteps thump in the grass as the sun bleeds over the mountains, and pebbles dance along the lake’s icy shore as Sorin’s growl vibrates the ground. I soothe him down the bond and smile at Finnian over my shoulder.

“Are you ready?”

“Are you?” I ask. The green cloak and brown tunic he wears complement his features nicely; a pin with the Veles sigil sits proudly on his chest. In true Finnian fashion, a bow and quiver are thrown over his shoulder and a sword is at his waist.

His throat bobs, his voice coming out as a hoarse whisper, “No.”

I release Calithea and rise to meet him. “You don’t have to come if it’s too much for you.”

“I won’t remain here while you’re forced to lose our home.”

“I’m losing land.” My hand wraps around his. “I’m not losing my home.”

He blinks away the water in his eyes, yanking me forward by our joined hands. “Wherever you go, I go.”

The tension in my body loosens. Finnian has always been more than a friend to me from the moment he first made me laugh.

Our bond has never been reliant on what I could give him, and most of the time I think he wished I wasn’t the lost princess of Imirath.

“Maybe one day that statement will take us somewhere warm.” He laughs but it’s strained, and I pull back to look up at him. “What is it?”

“I know we haven’t spoken about it, but I need to say this.

” He bites the inside of his cheek as his chest rises on a deep inhale.

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking since the night Ailliard betrayed us…

recalling memories of our childhood, the way he treated you, the way my life was easier because you shielded me. ”

“Finnian, stop.”

“I remember how he screamed at you when you stayed by my side when I was sick with fever. I was delirious, but I remember you begging him for money to buy medicine when nothing was working, but he told you it was too selfish to spend that much on a remedy for one person.” He swallows hard.

“You left, and a few hours later came back with medicine I knew you couldn’t afford, shaking and covered in blood with a bruise on your cheek. You never told me how you got it.”

“Finnian.” I latch my hands on to his biceps, forcing memories I keep locked away to remain there and ignoring my churning stomach.

Some thoughts are best left untouched. “You will not bear the burden for whatever decisions I have made over the years. Do not lose sleep over choices I’d make again if given the opportunity.

I didn’t survive exile because of the anger that lived within me, I survived because of you. ”

He lets out a choppy breath and kisses my forehead, pulling me close again for several moments of silence before asking, “Have you decided which dragon you’ll take?”

I sigh, rubbing at the relentless ache in my chest. “I can trust Venatrix to keep all the others in line aside from Sorin. He’s unpredictable, and I don’t know for certain he won’t follow me against my orders.”

A familiar smile slides over his features. “Good quality to have.”

I nudge him on his shoulder, offering no reply as Saskia exits the castle in her warmest coat and a scarf spooled up to her chin.

She wears the same pin as Finnian over her breast, and I tug at the chain that rests across my chest, a small replica of my sigil glinting in the sun.

It matches the golden dragons swirling around the cuffs of my white winter coat.

“Asena and the water mage came to the front steps of the castle and are being escorted here by Braxton,” Saskia says.

Finnian shudders. “Their presence is unsettling.”

“I doubt they wear robes that cover their faces and chant in the woods to seem inviting,” I mutter, and Finnian glares.

Cayden converses with Ryder as they stride to meet us, the pair of them clad in weapons and black winter garb that make their already muscular frames appear even larger. My dragons begin waking up now that they sense a forming crowd, and Basilius is the first to take to the skies.

Cayden sighs as he stops beside me. “I’m afraid we’ll never be able to make the people of Aestilian believe you’re choosing to marry me.”

I narrow my eyes. “Why?”

“You’re far too beautiful. People will inevitably talk.”

“It helps that most people know you’re wealthy.”

His dimples deepen when he chuckles, the sound making me feel like I’m soaking in the sun.

He escorted me to our chambers after the night market and only came in from standing on the balcony after I doused the lanterns and climbed into bed, informing me he had business to take care of at his tavern before disappearing for several hours.

He didn’t tell me what his tasks consisted of, but the fresh cuts on his knuckles lead me to believe he was fighting again.

Asena descends the steps with Ophir, both cloaked in heavy robes that hint toward their loyalties: red for Asena and blue for Ophir.

I didn’t have the chance to inquire about the origins of dragons when I saw her yesterday.

My main focus was on Aestilian, and what she could do to help me.

Only the gods can conjure elements, but she can wield flames within her vicinity.

Ophir possesses a similar gift but with water.

However, after training their entire lives, both are skilled in other magical abilities that enable them to open portals.

The magic in their blood has been passed down for generations, more potent than those in the market who infuse objects with charms.

Asena’s curls spill around her like a halo when she removes her hood and bows. “Your Majesties, may I present Ophir, renowned mage and the leader of the water cult.”

Straight onyx hair frames his pale face and falls to the black sash tied around his waist. Reverence floods his dark gaze as he looks at Cayden and drops to one knee. “My king.”

We exchange a confused glance.

“Why has the water cult come to Vareveth?” Cayden asks. “Speak plainly. We don’t have time to waste.”

Manners to envy, truly. Though at least he saves us time by being himself.

Mages and cults mainly keep to the Terrwyn and Sweven forests to avoid being targeted.

The only kingdoms where magic is ingrained within the culture are Galakin and Thirwen.

Galakin is accepting of fire magic, and many people in Thirwen study mind control and are bonded to animal familiars.

Perhaps if my mother had been from Thirwen it would have explained my bond to the dragons, but she was a noble woman of Imirath.

Imirath accepts water magic, Urasos accepts air and now earth, but magic is outlawed in Feynadra.

Kingdoms stick to one element to establish a balance of power between one another.

Centuries ago, when magic in Ravaryn was stronger, more mages practiced their abilities without fear.

Although Galakin claimed the element of fire, nobody can challenge my claim considering my bond to the dragons, but to anger Imirath, Cayden and I also lifted the bans on water magic.

“I am here for you in the same way Asena is here for Queen Elowen. The wind carries messages off the tide and has whispered your name.” I share another glance with Cayden; it’s close to what Asena said when she gifted me the amulet.

“My people and I have traveled from the Terrwyn to pledge our fealty to you, the king blessed by the God of Water, Death, and the Moon. On your order, we will follow you to war and ruin.”

“Just as the fire cult wishes to pledge ourselves to the queen blessed by the Goddess of Flames, Life, and Stars,” Asena adds.

“This union was destined by the gods and brings balance to our elements. It is divine and blessed in blood. The gods honor a sacrifice, the end of the Dasterian line for the birth of a power unknown to this world.”

“Flames flood Queen Elowen’s veins, and the salt of the sea runs through yours,” Ophir says to Cayden.

“I saw you kill Eagor Dasterian when I looked into the waves, and felt a shift in the air as you claimed the throne.” It feels just as invasive as it did when Asena told me that she watched me steal the amulet in the flames.

“How are you co-existing so peacefully?” Cayden asks. “The cults are notorious for their rivalries, and I will not have your war on my land.”

“Our allegiances reflect alliances the gods formed with one another. The Goddess of Souls cult resides deep within the Etril Forest, but we share a relationship with them, too. They don’t inhabit any kingdoms; they’re a bit strange.”