Page 89 of Wrath of the Dragons (Fear the Flames #2)

Chapter Sixty-six

Elowen

I tie my braid off, flicking it over my shoulder and letting it fall down my back.

A golden House Veles sigil rests at the center of my forehead along a simple band.

The same knives I’ve strapped to my legs every day rest against me, and I don black armored accents over my blue tunic for extra protection—a steel chest plate; shoulder, arm, and thigh guards all designed with draconic elements.

They’re thinner than a foot soldier’s armor in favor of mobility while I ride, but still strong.

I’ve fought for my crown, bled for my kingdoms past, present, and future, and I will have my vengeance.

I think of the dungeon, can smell the coppery blood pooling on the floor, hear chains rattling and the taunts of my father’s guards, and feel a cane slapping into my flesh.

I force myself to conjure the image of my dragons being dragged away from me, to feel the burning of my throat as I screamed.

I will not cease until the city flows with red rivers of my making. The princess of destruction can rise from the ashes as the queen of salvation.

The tent flaps part, and Finnian dips inside. He’s wearing a full suit of armor with his bow strapped across his chest and a sword at his waist. “Scouts have reported the enemy has mobilized. Cayden sent a summons for all rulers to attend one final council meeting before the battle commences.”

I nod, checking on my crossbows to ensure they’re loaded properly, and swing a quiver of arrows over my shoulder.

He holds the tent open for me and I hand my weapons off to a waiting soldier.

“Attach these to Venatrix’s saddle. I’ve already handled all the others.

” I let her see my eyes glow gold for good measure as I issue the command through the bond.

“I’ve commanded her to let you approach, so you have nothing to fear, but don’t linger. ”

“Yes, my queen.” The woman bows, her black-and-blue armor glinting in the sun as she follows my orders.

The camp is a series of tents in the house colors of our allied forces: blue, red, and orange.

Finnian leads me to the largest structure, with three peaks at the top, and though my leathers are lined with fur, the fire blazing within is welcomed.

Cayden’s helm rests on the table, as does the sword I gifted him for the winter solstice, and his obsidian armor easily makes him the largest man here.

Our generals bow their heads as I pass them, taking my place beside Cayden at the center of the long slab of wood covered in a map of Zinambra. The silver armor and red capes worn by Zarius and his generals are a stark contrast to Galakin’s gold.

“You won’t be with the fleet?” I ask Zale, taking note of his heavy plate. Naval soldiers favor leathers, considering they’ll sink like a rock if they fall overboard.

“I’ll be leading a battalion into battle.

I want Thirwen and Imirath to see that their enemies are united against them on all fronts,” he responds.

“However, my fleet is mobilized.” He points to the southern tip of Imirath.

“There are no sightings of ships from the southern isles and our goal is to surround the fleet. If they flee to shore—”

“I’ll burn them alive. They’ll be like sitting ducks on the beach,” I state before turning to Cayden. “I can command two dragons to remain with the army.”

“No, you need to utilize their full force to monitor as much ground as possible. We cannot risk Garrick or Fallon escaping on a boat and raising supporters elsewhere. This war ends today.”

“We should march soon,” Ryder states. “It won’t be long before they reach us, and they’ll have an advantage if we don’t get to the top of the hill.”

“We will march soon, but we’ll be marching to the base of the hill we stand upon,” Cayden answers, and the tension grows within the silent tent as seasoned soldiers glance at one another.

“The base of the hill?” Ser Rhys asks. “I beg your pardon, Your Highness, but—”

“Mind your tongue and there will be no reason to beg,” Cayden cuts him off.

Rhys bristles. “I’m aware you have experience, but standing at the base of a hill is suicidal.”

“We will see Cayden’s plan through,” Zarius cuts in, and I manage to keep the surprise off my face. “He is the most notorious swordsman and would not have become the demon of Ravaryn through faulty plans.”

Cayden dips his chin, and Zarius does the same.

Something unknown to me is communicated through their eyes.

Though it seems it’s unknown to all of us.

If I didn’t trust Cayden to lead the ground forces, I’d pull him aside and demand to know what he’s thinking, but even before I knew Cayden, I knew of him. His mind is as lethal as his sword.

“We would be fools to believe Imirath and Thirwen don’t have as many scouts monitoring our camp as we have theirs, and not every plan can be spoken aloud,” I say. “Cayden will not begin this battle at a disadvantage. If you can trust in anything, you can trust in his reputation.”

Ser Rhys bows but doesn’t say anything as battle horns blare in the distance, accompanied by the sound of thousands of boots and hooves slamming into the earth.

“Garrick and Fallon were not sighted with their armies, and I imagine their queens are with them,” Cayden says to me.

“Do what you must to force them out. I’ll command a battalion to search the field for Nykeem and eliminate him.

I’ll be ready for the rulers when they flee the castle upon your assault. ”

I nod before glancing to Zarius. “As I said, the fates of the rulers of Thirwen will be up to you.”

“Nobody marches before my command,” Cayden states. “Any who disobeys will be shot down on my order. Ensure your soldiers are aware of this and begin preparations.”

Everyone slowly filters away from the table to take to their individual tasks, and the dragons screech overhead.

Their sharp eyes must be able to see the enemy already.

I turn to Finnian first, now that only five of us remain.

His throat bobs as he looks down at me and reaches forward to wrap me in his arms. He presses one hand to the back of my head and the other around my waist, hunching over a bit to accommodate our height difference as I stand on the tips of my boots.

“We survive together,” he says. “Today is no different.”

I hug him tighter. “Against the world, Finny. You and me.”

He presses his forehead to mine, squeezing my hands as he blinks his teary eyes. “No other words. No goodbyes.”

I press my palm to his cheek, letting the love in my eyes speak the words neither of us can manage to get out.

I don’t think there’s a proper way to thank someone for loving you when you felt unlovable, becoming your family when you had no one, and morphing into a home when you didn’t know what to look for in one.

“I promise to let you drag me to every tavern in sight when the battle is over.”

His brows knot as he laughs, and we leave it at that.

I won’t be able to mount a dragon if I even contemplate a world without Finnian.

We exist through what and who we love; it fills the cracks hatred chisels within us and gives us a reason to trudge through our worst moments.

Even when you can’t find the strength to live for yourself, you can for someone else.

Ryder and Cayden are the least emotional, and perhaps it’s because they fight beside each other every battle, or maybe it’s due to their experience. But Saskia has had to say goodbye to them an equal amount, and it’s clear she’s having a hard time reining in her feelings.

“I’m with you,” Ryder says.

“I’ll be on your left,” Cayden responds, reaching forward so he and Ryder can clasp each other’s forearms. “To battle, brother.”

Ryder turns to Finnian, offering him the same goodbye gesture he gave to Cayden. “You’ll be manning the archers atop this cliff?”

“Until the lines get too mixed, then I’ll join the battle.”

“Good. You’ve got the best aim out of anyone so at least I have a slightly lower chance of being hit with a rogue arrow.” He sighs, stopping in front of me while pointing skyward. “You give those bastards hell and keep a wyvern from mangling my pretty face.”

“You have my word you’ll be just as pretty when the battle is over.”

“Something to live for.” His smile widens, but twitches when he turns to face Saskia, staring up at him with misty eyes. “None of that.”

She blinks faster, her dark lashes glistening with the tears she’s desperately trying to suppress as she flings her arms around his neck.

Ryder tightens his hold around her waist, kissing the top of her head before he lets go.

I throw my arms around Saskia next, breathing in her jasmine scent before taking one last look at a group of people who have come to mean more to me than I ever imagined.

“I’ll see you soon,” I say as Cayden threads his fingers through mine and leads me from the tent.

Soldiers have already begun forming their ranks, and a mixture of House Veles, House Ilaria, and inverted House Liluria banners flap in the wind.

They patiently wait for their leaders to escort them to the battlefield, prepared to fight, prepared to die.

I’m not one for speeches, but I release Cayden’s hand and step forward knowing this will be my final chance to address the army before I take to the skies.

“Soldiers of Vareveth,” I begin, raising my voice enough to ensure they can all hear me.

“You are of the dragon kingdom, and you must fight as if the very fire that resides within the winged beasts lives with you. A dragon does not cower in the presence of steel, and nor shall you.” They slam their swords into their shields twice.

“I was born to House Atarah, one of the oldest ruling houses of Ravaryn, but at the end of this battle it will be House Veles banners adorning this city. It will be ours!” The soldiers slam their steel together again, raising their voices in a cheer as I persist. “To our allies who have come here to join our fight, the loyalty of a dragon is not a fickle thing. You stand with us today, and we will not forget your bravery. In being here, you help free the people of Imirath—my people by blood—from the grip of the tyrant Garrick Atarah. When the sun sets on this day, you will stand as the victors of a new world anointed in his blood!”

The cheers are deafening as I look back at Cayden, and he takes hold of my hand again to escort me through the lines.

Soldiers look to us with respect and adoration.

My heart pounds in time with the war drums vibrating the earth as the battalions call out for vengeance, for retribution, for the death of their enemies.

I hope my father can hear them from where he cowers in his castle.

I hope he’s looking to the skies with fear, waiting for me to descend.

I have come for my throne, and I will not cease until the Imirath crown is ripped away from him.

We step through the tree line, and anxiety tightens my throat.

I can put on a brave face for the soldiers but not for Cayden.

He’s going to be down there on the field leading the charge, and our enemies will be pointing their blades at him.

I know he’s strong. I know he’s survived countless battles.

But all it takes is one second for your life to change and tragedy to strike.

“Please don’t,” I whisper in a thick voice, looking down at his boots when we stop beside Venatrix. “We said everything we needed to last night.” I don’t care that he doesn’t know what our future looks like because I want to live it. I won’t let Garrick take away someone else I love. I can’t.

“I’ll only say this once.” He frames my face with his hands to keep my gaze locked on his.

“None of this is worth it if you don’t walk off that field.

I have no intention of dying, but I need you to know that if I meet my end today, no grave will ever claim me and my soul will never find rest until it’s with yours again.

I will always find a way to get back to you, even in death. ”

I don’t know who moves first, but in the next second my arms are around his neck and his are around my waist, and our lips collide. He kisses me like he’ll never see me again, like he wants to pour every ounce of his love and protection inside of me to keep me safe.

I’m breathless when he pulls back, and he leans in to give me another quick kiss as if he can’t help himself. “If you don’t get on her in the next thirty seconds, I don’t trust myself not to tie you to a tree again.”

A half smile weighed down by far too many emotions stretches across my lips, and letting him go is one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. It feels like something is severed between us when I break the contact, pulling away from him sooner than I’m ready.

“Show them why you’ve been named the demon of Ravaryn,” I say, looking over my shoulder with one boot on Venatrix’s wing. “Be every bit as bloodthirsty as the whispers claim you to be; do whatever you must to survive and come home to me.”

“I will,” he answers as I settle myself in Venatrix’s saddle, and watches as I hook the straps to my harness.

“And you must show them who you are, El. They were fools to make an enemy of you. Now slaughter them for it. You are the dragon queen; you are everything your father feared you’d become.

Force him to watch as you burn his reign to the ground. ”