Page 93 of Wrath of the Dragons (Fear the Flames #2)

Chapter Seventy

Elowen

I turn away from Garrick and press my forehead into Sorin’s when he drops his head. The scent of charred flesh stings my nose and eyes, but I focus on Sorin’s presence as the walls that once caged us crumble and the man who ordered it all lies broken at our feet.

“We should get back to the battle to finish this once and for all,” I say, and Sorin presses his head harder against mine before I kiss his snout and climb up his wing.

He takes to the skies after I strap myself into the saddle, rising above the buildings along the canals with Garrick’s body in his back claw.

Venatrix and Delmira continue burning the beach, and I fly over the ships to ensure they know that their king has fallen.

Basilius and Calithea fight against wyverns over the battlefield in the distance, ripping them to shreds and discarding the leathery bodies over enemy lines.

Sorin cries out, jerking back but not quick enough as a wyvern springs up from the roof just under him and latches its jaws around his neck. Fear floods through me in an instant.

“Sorin!” I unhook my harness and unsheathe a knife before jolting forward.

The beast jerks, and I wrap one arm around Sorin’s neck to stop myself from falling while raising my other hand to plunge the knife into the wyvern’s eye.

Blood bubbles up and coats my skin as I repeat the action until the creature is in too much pain to hold on.

It shrieks as it unlatches itself, and though blood coats its fangs, the wounds aren’t deep enough to kill Sorin.

I remain perched on Sorin as he lunges forward and sinks his fangs into the wyvern’s neck, just as it bit him. He shakes his head, decapitating the creature as its bones snap under Sorin’s strength, and its body crashes into the canal far below.

I scan my surroundings for other threats, but my pulse doesn’t calm down. The sky around us may be empty but Sorin’s scales are cold, and growing more so by the second.

Something is wrong.

Dragon scales are never cold; being close to them is like sitting in front of a roaring hearth.

“You’re all right, my love.” I run my hands down his neck as I drop back to the saddle. “You’re okay.”

He screeches and thrashes his head side to side like he’s trying to shake something off, but nothing is here.

I scream his name as we lose altitude, and my stomach flies into my throat before he recovers.

My heart pumps so fiercely that I can feel it in my fingertips.

We’re still in enemy territory, and we’re flying too low.

Sorin cuts to the left at the last possible second to avoid crashing into a building and keeps shaking his head as he takes us higher again.

Something is very, very wrong.

I cry out in time with Sorin and grab my chest. It feels like someone is trying to hack our bond in two.

It’s pulled on, knotted, and yanked, but whoever is doing this amplifies their magic, and the pain morphs into thousands of knives stabbing at the unbreakable force.

I gasp for air as Sorin falters again, too lost in my pain to be frightened.

I haven’t felt this kind of sensation since my father hired a mage to try to break the bond between me and my dragons—the day my mother died after the spell rebounded.

Ailliard freed me from the dungeons after that.

I can’t imagine how much worse the torture would’ve become after the queen was killed.

I don’t remember my mother before my imprisonment.

The only detail I can recall of her was that she stared at the wall and sat silently by my father while I was tortured in front of the throne.

She never came to my cell in the middle of the night to sneak me some scraps of food when the king was asleep.

She didn’t even try to run when the dragons began blowing flames. Sometimes I think she wanted to die.

The bond twists again and Sorin cries out.

I rub at my chest to try to ease the piercing pain, but even breathing too deeply hurts.

I force myself to fall forward, but I move too late.

An arrow that I was too distracted to spot manages to skim my ear, but the droplets dribbling onto my shoulder aren’t what worry me, it’s the fact that Sorin didn’t see it at all.

He would never let anything hurt me, ever since I was a child.

The mage that my father hired to break the bond was from Thirwen. I don’t remember his face, but I do remember that.

Oh gods.

What if it was the mage who nearly killed Cayden? I glance down at my arms despite them being covered, but the markings that swirl around my arms are proof of what I did in the wake of Nykeem’s bomb.

You will be cheating death, and there is always a price to pay, Sage’s voice enters my mind as Sorin cries out again.

No.

No.

Oh, gods, but it makes sense. Cayden is the most protective man, and Sorin is the most protective dragon. Sage spoke of balance. I saved one protector only to lose another.

Not Sorin.

Sorin cannot be my price.

I will not let anyone take Sorin from me.

“I’m with you, sweetling, just hold on,” I manage to say through the pain and focus all my power on the bond, trying to pull it away from whoever is toying with it. A wyvern with the first rider I’ve seen in this battle aims straight for us. “Zayèra!”

Dragonfire spills from Sorin, but the force is blocked by the same kind of wards that protected Garrick as he ran from the castle.

I reach for my crossbow and fire it, but the shield shoots up again.

I don’t want to risk summoning dragonfire myself right now knowing that Sorin needs me to grasp the bond, and I can’t do both.

My hand tightens on the saddle horn as we gain speed, and once we’re close enough, my suspicions are confirmed.

Atop the wyvern sits Nykeem. I remember seeing his face through the wards, and the horror that coated his features as I melted them. Each time I’ve fought a wyvern and their mount, the rider had white eyes like I do when I slip into my dragons’ minds, but Nykeem is fully conscious.

Flames won’t work here. Sorin needs to attack. I command him to discard Garrick’s body, and the king of the conquered kingdom crashes into a watery, unmarked grave. My crossbow will be of little use, so I attach it to the saddle and tighten the strap around my waist. “Vetàs.”

Sorin’s front claws shoot forward, tearing through the shield as he blows more dragonfire.

His bottom talons lock with the wyvern’s, rendering it immobile given that it has only two legs.

It bites Sorin, utilizing its only defense left, but Sorin rakes his other talons down its chest and belly as we tumble to the ground.

Neither the mage nor I can reach for our weapons as they plummet.

The pain in my chest lessens, and Sorin’s scales begin to warm in Nykeem’s distracted state.

I shove his hold out of us. Sorin unlatches his claws from the wyvern’s and throws it to the ground before taking to the skies again, but Nykeem isn’t with the corpse of the creature when I look down.

My head throbs painfully in the aftermath of the manipulation and I summon Calithea as another wyvern rides for us without a mount.

Something is still wrong with Sorin, and I don’t see Nykeem anywhere.

I need to get Sorin on the ground and behind our lines.

The battle isn’t far, but it’s impossible for me to spot anyone I love from this altitude.

Pain shoots through my chest again, and I look down to ensure I haven’t been wounded.

Nothing is there. It’s burning hot, like someone is pressing a brand fresh off the fire into my ribs.

Sorin screams along with me, his flight faltering, and my stomach rises as he sharply dips.

He thrashes his head again, crying out like he’s in more pain than me, and his scales are freezing .

Calithea is too far away for me to wait.

I know I’ve been caught in a trap, but I can’t lose Sorin.

If I slip into his mind, I won’t be able to defend myself, but I know that’s the only way I can help him fight off this assault.

Thirwen’s magic is rooted in mind control and manipulation, and they often slip into the minds of their familiars.

My dragon will not pay the price for saving Cayden—I will, no matter the cost.

I look to my wedding ring and drag my thumb over the stone before pressing it to my lips. Sorin cries out again, and I can’t take it anymore. Sorin would never abandon me, and I won’t abandon him. If he plummets to his death, then he’ll be taking me with him.

“I’ve got you, sweetling,” I say soothingly and Sorin whimpers. “I’m right here.”

I take one last glance at the battle still several yards away and let the world fade around me.

I follow the bridge between our minds, which looks like a forest made entirely of emerald-green wisps.

Where Basilius’s mind was tranquil, Sorin’s is chaotic, made even more so by the unwanted presence spreading like decay.

It withers the vibrant green as Nykeem tries to take hold of Sorin’s mind by smothering his soul.

I send out a wave of power and light to fight off the darkness trying to swallow him.

Nykeem is no match for our bond now that I’ve fully immersed myself and can throw him out.

The colors of my markings fill the space—silver, gold, lavender, and blue—and shield the green wisps that curl around me.

Sorin’s always protected me fiercely, and I will not leave him to fend for himself.

I slice through the black webs, forcing the mage back in this battle that nobody else can see.

Something pulls at me and tries to force me out, but it’s not Nykeem.

It’s something beyond Sorin’s mind. I don’t know what it is.

I don’t even care. I stay until no trace of an intruder remains and fortify it with a shield of my own to prohibit anyone else from entering again.

I’ll have to do it with the other dragons once the battle is over—and after I kill this fucking mage.

I uncurl myself from Sorin as I retreat into my own mind, but the world rushes around me when I regain my sight.

Wind whips through my hair as Sorin flies at me.

The severed straps of my saddle flap around my waist. The ground quickly rises up to meet me as I plummet toward the battlefield.

Blood rushes from Sorin’s neck from the previous puncture wounds and arrows jut out of his wings.

He’s the fastest dragon, and if he can’t catch me, none of them will.

He screeches, pained and panicked as I spread my arms out on either side of me and keep my eyes locked on his.

It’s okay, I say down the bond. I love you. No matter what happens.

He screeches again as his claw wraps around me, and I cry out. My chest and side throb painfully as he hugs me to his body, and we fall from the sky together.