Wings of Flame (The Dragons of Ascavar Book 5)

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Wings of Flame (The Dragons of Ascavar Book 5) Page 37

by JD Monroe


  Lotheraos moved lightning fast to cover Sidran’s mouth, fingers pressed to the tight seam of his lips. His protests were muffled against the dragon’s grasp. “If you say anything I don’t like, I will tear your jaw right off your face,” he said calmly. “It is only by our mercy that all your limbs remain attached.”

  “Besides, we all know you’re powerless,” Sohaila said calmly. His eyes flitted to her. “You’re just a normal hybrid. You’re smart, but your power was in all the people you manipulated. All your people and your toys are gone. By yourself, you’re nothing.” His eyes widened. “Remember me?”

  Lotheraos released his face, and Sidran stretched his jaw. “My Chosen will take up the banner in my absence.”

  “Maybe,” Velati said. “But you’re still here with us.”

  His eyes narrowed as he looked from Sohaila to Marlena. “And you. Vystus will judge you. You may walk freely now, but you turned your back on the god that gave you this power. He will not abide such a betrayal.”

  Marlena raised her hands and looked up at the stone ceiling. “Come and get me,” she said. Then she folded her arms, leaning in closer to Sidran. “I think you made Vystus up.”

  “Foolish girl,” he spat. “What does a twenty-year-old idiot know about the ancient gods?”

  “I’m almost thirty now, thanks for the reminder,” Marlena said. “And the day I got here, I asked the queen’s scholars to research Vystus. No records of him.”

  “I don’t have to defend his divinity to you,” Sidran said. “The power of the Aesdar speaks all the defense he needs.”

  She shrugged. “Just saying.” She looked up again. “I think you know your way around blood magic, and you pumped me and the other Aesdar so full of it that it made us this way. A story about a white-scaled dragon god made perfect sense, and you counted on us being too stupid to see through you,” she said. “Shame on me. But in the end, you lost. Thirty years of planning and a made up god on your side, and you still couldn’t do it.”

  He scowled. “I’m not going to talk to you.”

  “Oh, this will be fun. Just remember, you made me this way,” she said. She grabbed his face. “Tell me the truth. Answer my questions.” Her tattoos flared bright. Her power was palpable, like a swarm of tiny gnats crawling on Sohaila’s skin.

  Sidran gritted his teeth, pulling away from her. “No,” he said flatly. She pushed him harder, and his muscles trembled with the effort of resisting her.

  “Marlena, you can stop,” Velati said, gently pushing her aside to glare down at Sidran. “We’ve been merciful with you so far.”

  “You can kill me,” Sidran said. “I go on to glory. I do not fear death.”

  “We’re not going to kill you,” Velati said. “But between the five of us in the room, I think we can castrate you and keep you alive.” His ice spear widened into a blade. Without blinking, he reached down, grabbing Sidran’s crotch. The other man writhed away, letting out a whimper as he squeezed. “This will cut so clean you’d think it was steel. And ice…you might not feel it for a minute.” He tilted his head. “Frostbane here could cauterize it before you even bleed.” He frowned and looked over his shoulder. “I always forget. Is castration just your cock, or is it the whole package?”

  “Actually, I believe it’s just the balls,” Lotheraos said.

  “It’s a good place to start,” Frostbane said.

  “Fuck you,” Sidran said. Then his face contorted in pain as Velati squeezed harder. But instead of striking him, Velati slapped the flat blade lightly against Marlena’s thigh. Her fist clenched, and the tattoos ignited with light again.

  “I’m doing it,” Velati said, resting the blade against Sidran’s leg. “You should have answered her the first time.”

  “No!” Sidran bellowed. As he twisted away, his head slammed into the metal chair with a painful clang.

  Marlena grabbed him again to take advantage of the distraction. A bright light burst from her as her power slammed into Sidran. His tense muscles relaxed, his shoulders slumping. “Tell me the truth.”

  Sidran’s brown eyes went wide and glassy. He stared at her like she was the avatar of his god. “What do you want to know?” He let out a sigh of relief as Velati released him, backing away. Behind the chair, Velati’s lips curled into a wicked smile.

  “Do you have anything else planned for Farath?” Marlena asked.

  He shook his head. “Not yet. Once my army arrived, they were to collar all the dragons or kill them, just like in Ironhold. Any who rebelled were imprisoned or drained for blood.”

  “Do you have another army? More forces on the way?” she asked.

  He nodded. “A small reserve in Agni.”

  Marlena looked up, shaking her head.

  “Agni,” Velati said. “Are you working with the king? Tell us about your arrangement.”

  Over the next hour, they peppered Sidran with questions. At one point, he shook off Marlena’s hold and started cursing at them. Frostbane released a focused burst of flame that seared his forearm into a blistered purple ruin, allowing Marlena to take control of him again. He apologized, but Sohaila knew a fake apology when she saw one. Reluctantly, she rubbed orveran into the wound to numb his pain and keep him talking.

  Sidran was in league with the king of Agni, a human nation to the south that hated dragons. When he began hatching his plan to eradicate dragonkind, Sidran had realized he needed far more troops than he could gather as a secretive cult in the human world. Over nearly three decades, he’d built the powerful military force, recruiting heavily from Agni and the humans of their neighboring nation of Braequa, which had tenuous relations with dragons.

  The king had allowed him to recruit, even sending much of his own military force under the Chosen banner, with the agreement that they would split the wealth, and the king would be gifted the city of Ironhold—intact.

  “And what were you to get out of it?” Velati asked.

  Sidran had shrugged, a cold, casual gesture. “The fall of your kind. You are a scourge, an evil blight upon our existence.”

  “Well, that’s reasonable,” Velati said mildly. He sighed. “We’re done here.”

  “Kill me,” Sidran said. “I do not fear death.”

  “I’m sure you don’t,” Velati said. “But you wanted to claim the throne of Adamantine Rise, and I think you should get to enjoy your throne for a while,” he said, patting the back of the iron chair.

  “Rimewing, does he really need his balls?” Lotheraos asked. “I’d love to make a necklace out of them.”

  “But there’s not enough for all of us,” Frostbane complained.

  Velati smirked. “I’m sure we’ll determine an equitable outcome.”

  After leaving the claustrophobic dark of the dungeon, Velati kissed Marlena’s cheek and sent her on to find something to eat, with a promise he would join her shortly. He looked nervous, his gaze not quite meeting Sohaila’s as they stood in the open vestibule outside the lift to the upper levels of the citadel. “Sister, may I have a few minutes?”

  They had barely spoken since Kaldir woke. “I suppose,” she said evenly. Her love survived despite Velati, not because of him, and she wouldn’t forget it.

  Without speaking, she followed him up the winding stairs to the second floor and out to a small balcony. Ash and rubble piled around their feet. Looking up, she could see where another balcony above them had been shattered and torn away from the wall.

  “You look like you’ve recovered well,” he said. “I hope you’re not overdoing it down in the city.”

  “I’m not,” she said.

  He nodded solemnly, staring out at the fractured cityscape. His posture was tense. “Marlena enjoys spending the day with you. Thank you for taking such good care of her, even though you’re displeased with me. I hope that someday you can forgive me for intervening, and that you’ll understand why I did it.”

  She turned to him. “I really want to be angry with you.”

  “If you’re goi
ng to punch me again, please aim below the neck,” he said, giving her a sidelong glance. “My nose just healed from last time.”

  “It’s no fun if you allow it,” she said with a sigh. “I know you did what you felt was right. And knowing you as I do, I can’t be angry with you for it. I forgive you, and I hope you forgive me for punching you.”

  “Marlena tried to kill me the first time we met,” he said. “I’m good at forgiveness. It’s behind us.”

  She laughed, watching as he pulled a glittering silver pendant from his pocket. Letting it unfurl from a delicate chain, he held it up in front of her. An intricate knot of silver encased a gleaming blue stone. “What’s that?”

  “It’s the token of the Lightweavers. Irazia asked me why I hadn’t made it official after all you’d done for us,” he said. He gestured to her. Her heart thumped as she bowed her head, letting him drape the thin chain around her neck. She gently touched the small blue stone. “I’m sorry it’s not nicer. I’ll have a proper one made for you. But it seemed insulting to let you continue on without a formal recognition.”

  “You didn’t have to do that,” she said, still holding the pendant. “It’s a lovely gesture. Thank you.”

  His gaze softened, and he gave her a gentle smile. “I was very hard on you, but you rose to the occasion in every way. You noticed things even I didn’t. Hundreds of our people were likely saved because of your clever ideas. I lost track of how many soldiers told me they’d patched up their wounds and made it to shelter because of your gifts. And of course, I can never sufficiently thank you for what you did for Marlena. For me.” He bowed deeply to her. “You are, beyond any shadow of a doubt, a true Lightweaver, as mighty as one of the Arik’tazhan.”

  Her heart thumped as he leaned in, grasping her cheeks gently to kiss her forehead. Before she lost her nerve, she embraced him. He stiffened for a moment, then hugged her tightly. “Thank you,” she said. “For taking a chance on me and not sending me back.”

  Releasing her, he smiled down at her. “I know the look of someone who is spoiling for a fight. I’ve been there many times. What will you do now?”

  She raised her eyebrows. “That depends on you. Do you intend to pursue the trail into Agni?”

  He sighed. “Between the two of us, I truly wish I could say no. I want to take Marlena somewhere quiet and beautiful, far away from the blood and strife.” He smiled sadly. “And yet, that’s always been a part of who I am. Someone has to do this.”

  “Does it have to be you?”

  “Not for forever, but for right now, it does,” he said. “When we swore our oath to the old queens, they dubbed us the Unresting. I suppose it sounds poetic, but it’s really quite literal. We swore that we would not rest until our task was complete.” He shrugged. “And it’s not complete. I would be happy for your help but I won’t demand it.”

  She nodded. “When do you intend to head south to Agni?”

  “Not right away,” he said. “We’ve sent scouts, and our people are still recovering. Marlena needs to rest a while longer before I’m satisfied, though I know she doesn’t want to hear that.” He chuckled. “Within a week or so, we’ll make a decision. In that time, I need to go home to the human world and inform them what’s happened.” He gave her an indulgent smile. “In the meantime, spend a few days with Dawnblaze. Enjoy the life we fought so hard for. I certainly intend to.”

  When Sohaila returned to the healing pavilion, she found Kaldir on his feet next to the bed he’d occupied for over a week. A series of bite marks still marred his chest, where he would forever bear the scars of the Aesdar’s wicked teeth. With help from Ayla, he maneuvered his arms into a loose coat, leaving it open over his chest.

  “I am finally free of this prison,” he said.

  “Yes, we’ve been absolutely dreadful to you,” Ayla Mara said with a sly smile. She gestured to Sohaila. “Sister.” Though Kaldir had failed to mention it, he distracted Sidran while Miko carried Ayla to safety, giving his word that she would be protected. Afterward, Ayla had made Kaldir her personal responsibility when Sohaila was away. “He can go if you think he’s ready.”

  “I am ready,” he said flatly. “Do I have no choice in the matter?”

  “None,” Sohaila said. She pressed her hands to his chest to search him. He still had some healing to do, but he was whole enough to leave the healing pavilion. Nodding to Ayla, she said, “I’ll get this prisoner where he belongs.”

  Taking Kaldir’s hand, she guided him out of the pavilion and into the wreckage of the healing gardens. Her heart ached to see the smoking ruin of the beautiful place, but the Marashti and the Shrine Wardens had been hard at work sweeping the paths, cleaning the stain of Sidran off the holy place.

  They were barely a hundred feet from the pavilion when he grabbed her shoulders and stole a deep kiss. A warm thrill oozed down her spine. She broke away, tracing the flat plane of muscle over his chest. “Where do you want to go?”

  “Anywhere with you,” he replied.

  “Easy enough.” Grasping his hand, she led him through the winding paths and down to the healers’ quarters. Her room was pleasantly dark and cool. She lit the everlight globe on the wall, filling the room with a hazy blue glow.

  With a wince, Kaldir sat on the edge of her narrow bed. “Do you have other things to do?”

  “A few, but I suppose I can spare a few hours for you,” she said, cupping his cheek. “I’ve been scolded at least once a day for overdoing it, so perhaps a bit of rest is in order. How do you feel?”

  “Better,” he said. “Admittedly, not entirely whole, but much better than I did.” He stroked her cheek gently, then pulled her down for a kiss. “I missed doing this.”

  “As did I,” she said. “We might have scandalized the younger healers even further.”

  “Indeed,” he murmured. He shifted, pulling her into his lap. His arms looped around her waist, securing her close to him.

  “I spoke to Velati earlier,” she said. “He intends to pursue Sidran’s trail and make sure it’s finished.”

  He nodded solemnly. “Then I will follow.”

  “Will you?”

  “I would like to return to Ironhold and stay someday, but this is important. I will rest better knowing that the people I love are safe.” He stroked her cheek. “That you are safe.”

  “You know I’m going with you,” she replied.

  “Of course you are,” he said with a resigned sigh. “Who would I be to tell you otherwise?” He tipped her chin up. “I intend to escort the prince back to Ironhold first, along with the Iron Blade. I made a promise to the queen, and I would feel better knowing the city is still safe. I can be back here in a few days.”

  “We can be back. I’d like to go with you,” she said. “Velati plans to return to the human world and tell the Exile queen what happened so they can be vigilant. We have a bit of time.”

  “Do we now?” Kaldir said, amber eyes lighting up. “Then I will make good on that promise, and we will go to Ironhold.” He raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps tomorrow.”

  She shifted her hips, grinding slowly against him. He gave her a wicked smile. “And what shall we do until then?”

  To her surprise, he picked her up easily and deposited her on the bed, then sank to his knees in front of her. “Well, you’ve been working so very hard,” he said, running his hands up her legs. She shivered as he found the laces of her slim trousers, slowly untying them and sliding them down. “Taking care of everyone in this city.” He kissed the inside of her bare thigh, following down to her knee, to her calf. With his eyes on hers, he untied the sash around her waist, then slowly untied the closures of her dress. He let out a satisfied sigh. “You are magnificent.”

  “You are so full of it,” she replied.

  His eyes went comically wide. “Is that any way to speak to a General?” He rose higher, kissing her lips before descending to her throat and shoulder. “I am not full of it. Every inch of you is perfect,” he said. As he laid feathe
r-light kisses across her skin, his fingers drifted between her thighs, teasing until she parted for him. His touch ignited a familiar warmth. “These are perfect,” he said, palming her breast as he covered the soft skin with his lips. Her heart raced as he switched sides, letting his teeth graze gently over her.

  “You know, you should be in bed resting,” she said.

  “I’ve been in bed resting for a week,” he replied. His fingers slid inside her. She sighed with pleasure and eased back, spreading her legs further for him. “I want to take care of you.”

  “I like being taken care of,” she said with a happy sigh.

  “I can tell,” he said. He followed the trail over her stomach, down to her mound, then diverted at the last second to kiss her inner thigh. The brush of his stubbled jaw against her sensitive skin made her shiver. His tongue darted out, teasing lightly at her. “I have a thought.”

  “Do you? I’m having a hard time thinking with you doing that,” she said.

  “Not me. All I’ve been able to do is think about taking you to bed. You’ve made it clear that your kiss heals, but do you have to be the one doing the kissing? Or will this heal me?” He covered her with his mouth, tongue lapping hungrily at her.

  She arched up with a gasp. “I don’t think it works that way.”

  “Hmm,” he said, his deep voice rumbling into her as he made another deep pass with his tongue. “Have you conducted experiments?”

  “I have not.”

  “Sohaila, this is very unscientific of you. How can you speak so authoritatively when you don’t know for sure?” He shrugged. “Consider this your first test.”

  “You are so ridiculous, I can’t even—”

  She gasped in shock as he fully covered her, his tongue joining his deft fingers in stoking the fires of pleasure. His fingers curled slightly, and his other hand traced the back of her thigh, finding the unusually sensitive place there. He knew her body, knew every hidden place that would ignite like wildfire. She breathed deep, sinking into the hazy warmth, the insistent pulling pressure gathering between her legs. Her heart swelled as she watched him, his gaze occasionally flitting up to hers.

 

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