TWENTY-FOUR
KOL’S HOURS WERE a blur of tree trunks, a pale sky that grew dark and star pocked before slowly giving way to dawn, and the torment that poured out of the collar and made him feel like every part of him was an inferno of unendurable pain.
The girl’s voice was a lifeline that sometimes broke through the terrible whispers of his collar, but the longer he stayed away from her, the harder it was to hear her.
By the time the sun rose on the day after he’d left her behind, her voice was gone, and he was alone with the whispers. The pain. And the vicious beat of his dragon’s heart.
He had to go after her.
He couldn’t.
He had to rip her heart from her chest.
He wouldn’t.
He wouldn’t, but it was impossible to remember why.
Near midday, he stumbled, going down hard on his knees as the distance between him and the girl became liquid fire in his veins.
He was going to die.
No, she was going to die.
He wasn’t a killer.
He was nothing but what his queen had made him to be.
The rage pumping through his chest collided with the power that surged out of the collar and became an unending stream of torment. Every breath he took was a razor in his lungs. Every move away from the girl was a knife that flayed him from the inside out.
He clutched his head in his hands and screamed until he was hoarse.
He had to go back. He had to. He was fire, blood, and death, and the girl’s heart was his salvation.
Salvation.
His tortured thoughts grabbed on to the word.
He was a predator, and she was his prey. Once he held her heart in his hand, he’d be saved.
He looked up. Ahead of him, the cold, clear expanse of a lake separated him from the vast reaches of the eastern Falkrains. Beyond the mountains, something beckoned him. Something like home, if he’d ever had one.
If he ran, he could be in the eastern Falkrains by nightfall.
If he ran from his prey, the pain would tear him to pieces.
Kol dug his fingers into the ground beneath him, and closed his eyes. Fought to ignore the pounding of his heart and the whispers of the collar.
He would not be a monster.
He already was.
He was a monster, and nothing would change until he took his prey’s heart.
The collar’s whispers skittered through his mind, and red-hot pain poured into his veins, obliterating everything but a vicious need to hunt.
To kill.
To finally be free of this torment.
He threw his head back and roared, and the whispers became screams echoing inside his head.
He was fire, blood, and death.
And the girl was going to die.
He found her as the sun reached its midpoint in the sky. She was almost out of the mountains, almost to the open ground that led down toward the rushing river that separated the mountains from the forest that stretched between the north and his queen’s castle. The man was with her, but his blade was sheathed. The bird was hovering, and the whispers in Kol’s mind scraped until he was raw.
Identify the biggest threat.
Kill it first.
Kill them all.
The man’s weapon was a threat, but the man couldn’t run.
The bird was faster, but its beak and talons would do little but slow Kol down.
It couldn’t stop him.
Nothing could.
He was a monster, and he’d come for his salvation.
The girl froze in the act of building a fire and looked at the trees around her. Kol?
His lip curled, and his muscles tensed.
Where are you? I know you’re close. I can hear your thoughts.
Hunt . . . you. The words surfaced from the wreckage of his mind, and he curled his hands into fists. Break . . . you.
You don’t want to do that. She looked confident.
Yes. He did. It was all he wanted. All he craved with every vicious heartbeat.
“He’s back,” she said as she slowly climbed to her feet. “And he’s worse.”
Gabril grabbed his sword as he lunged to his feet.
Hunt. Kol’s voice was barely human. Kill.
I can help you. The girl’s voice was calm. No one has to die.
The collar exploded into a frenzy of blistering pain, and he rose from his hiding place to lock eyes with his prey.
“He’s coming.” The girl glanced at Gabril. “Don’t try to stop him. He’ll kill you. He’s lost control.”
“Lorelai—”
“I never questioned your training methods, because you were the expert. Don’t question me about magic.” The girl lifted her bare hands, palms facing toward Kol. His heart thundered at the sight of her unprotected chest.
Her heart was his for the taking.
His pain was almost over.
“Point your sword toward the ground, take a few steps away from me, and try not to look like a threat,” she said to Gabril. Then she gave the bird a stern look, and it shrieked at Kol as it settled into a nearby tree, its black eyes focused on him.
The man took a step back, pointed his sword toward the ground, and looked like an attack dog about to come off his leash as Kol exploded out of the trees and came for the girl.
Prey. He snarled.
Come to me, she said as she lifted her hands.
Kill you.
Come.
Her voice was a balm against the searing pain in his mind, and he shuddered to a stop, his breath heaving, his body shaking. The collar whispered, murmured, screamed. The pain scoured his body until he was nothing but fire.
Blood.
Death.
He clenched his fists around the collar and tore at it, but it didn’t budge.
“Don’t touch that collar,” the man breathed. “Irina’s magic is in there, and it might be a trap.”
The girl nodded without taking her eyes from Kol’s.
Kol released the collar and closed his eyes as her scent reached him. Evergreens. Snow. Sweet burning wood.
He was fire. His chest burned with every breath, and only the girl’s heart would make it better.
Come to me, she said again, and his eyes flew open.
He snarled as he lunged for her, dragon talons extending from his fingertips.
She waited until he was almost upon her, and then dove beneath his outstretched arms, crashing into his knees and bringing him to the ground. He kicked out and whipped his body toward her. She elbowed him in the jaw, knocking him back. His talons scraped her shoulder.
He scrambled to get his feet beneath him again, and she leaped on top of him, her bare hands pressing into his chest and sending a bolt of magic straight through his dragon heart.
He threw her off him, sending her spinning into the underbrush. With a snarl of rage, he crawled after her, his heart screaming for her blood, the collar whispering until he could hear nothing else.
She watched him come for her, her hands raised as if to stop him. Foolish prey. He pulled himself into a crouch and leaped. Her bare hands slammed against his chest as he pinned her to the ground, and the brilliant heat of her magic arrowed into him.
He threw back his head, the cords of his neck standing out, his chest laboring with every breath as she sent her magic through him, cutting him off from the rage that lived in the empty space where his human heart had been and softening the messages of pain his body kept sending.
Help me. His voice, broken and raw, rose above the collar’s whispers. He looked at her face and found fierce compassion in her eyes, resolute determination in the set of her mouth.
I am. Her thoughts spun quickly, almost too fast for him to follow. She was thinking of magic, of remedies, of how much pain she could take from him without Irina realizing she’d lost her huntsman.
Grab the tree beside us. I don’t want to cause more damage to the land, but we don’t have a choice. She jerked
her chin toward the sickly looking maple. Hold on to it with both hands, and whatever you do, don’t let go until I’m finished.
He didn’t question her. Slowly, he climbed off her. She moved with him, keeping her hands against his skin. He turned, dug his now talonless fingers into the bark, and braced himself.
Taking a deep breath, she said, “Nakhgor. Find his pain. Ja`dat. Send it into the tree instead.”
Her magic flared, his dragon heart pounded, and the collar was a band of agony.
“Nakhgor. Ja`dat.” Her voice rose as the magic surged through her and into him, rushing like a river that refused to be stopped. His dragon heart fought her, but Kol himself wanted to be saved, and the part of him that still survived bowed to the strength of her magic.
The brilliant light flowed through him, gathered the worst of his torment and sent it through his hands and into the maple.
Kol cried out as the tree shivered.
Power was an all-encompassing flood of light inside the girl, and it spilled over from her thoughts to his. It was pain and pleasure—freedom and a chain that bound her to an onslaught of weariness she couldn’t stop if she tried.
He felt her struggle to push the weariness back. To do one last thing for him. Concentrating the last of her energy, she pushed her magic toward the thick gray shroud that kept him from his memories. Her voice trembled with power as she yelled, “Nakhgor. Ja`dat.”
The shroud tore. The maple split in two with a tremendous crack. Kol’s memories came flooding back, and with it the restraint he needed to gain control of his dragon heart.
The girl gave him a crooked little smile before she slumped toward the ground.
Gabril called out a warning, but Kol had already wrapped his arms around her. Already pulled her against his chest so that she wouldn’t fall.
His mind was free from torment. The collar’s whispers were muted, its pain a dull ache.
She’d saved him. Again.
He tried to say, “Thank you,” but her eyes fluttered shut, and she slept.
TWENTY-FIVE
KOL WALKED AHEAD of Gabril, who had the unconscious princess carefully slung over his back as they made their way toward the Silber River that flowed from the western edge of Ravenspire to the eastern reaches of Eldr. Gabril said that Lorelai was going to use the river to keep her promise to help Eldr.
Lorelai.
Not the girl. Not prey. Not anymore.
Lorelai.
Kol’s mind was finally clear, thank the skies, and though pain still pulsed from Irina’s collar, though his dragon heart still longed for blood, the warm sense of connection he felt to Lorelai, even while she was unconscious, helped him hold the worst of it at bay.
Seconds after Kol had saved Lorelai from hitting the ground as she fainted, Gabril had lifted the princess away from him while warning him that, dragon or no, Kol was dead the second he even looked like he was thinking of hurting Lorelai.
Kol couldn’t blame him. If someone had treated Brig the way he’d treated Lorelai, he’d have incinerated them where they stood.
Gabril stumbled as they climbed over a pile of loose gray stones that marked the border of a steep, grass-covered slope. Instantly, Kol pivoted, lunged toward the man, and wrapped his arms around the princess’s waist to keep her from falling.
Gabril found his footing in seconds. “Remove your hands from the princess.” The absolute authority in his voice would put Master Eiler to shame.
Kol steadied Lorelai against Gabril’s back and then slowly stepped away. Her long black hair lifted gently in the wind, and the scent of evergreens, snow, and sweet burning wood made his dragon heart pound mercilessly in his chest, but he tamped it down and concentrated on the pale curve of her cheek, the sweep of dark lashes against her skin.
“If you’re through memorizing the way she looks, I suggest you get in front of me again and start moving. And I swear on my life, if you are leading us into a trap set by Irina, nothing, and I mean nothing, will save you from me. Do I make myself clear, son?”
Kol tore his gaze away from Lorelai and nodded respectfully. It was a small miracle Gabril was tolerating his presence at all, especially considering the fact that Kol couldn’t communicate with him.
Not that any of Kol’s current thoughts were worth communicating to Gabril. Not when he was thinking about how desperately he missed his family. How much he longed to fly over Eldr’s craggy landscape and walk the spacious bronze halls of the castle with Brig at his side. How fast he could wake Lorelai up so she could keep her promise and save Eldr. How he could get his heart back from Irina without losing himself to the torment of her magic again.
Maybe Lorelai would help him with that the way she was helping him with Eldr. Not that he had any right to ask. But she was Irina’s enemy, and so was he. Which meant in a strange way that they were allies. He glanced at Lorelai again and noticed the way her dark lashes lay against the paleness of her skin and the way her red lips parted slightly while she slept.
His heart beat faster, and warmth unfurled in his stomach as he stared at her mouth and imagined thanking the courageous, beautiful princess of Ravenspire with a kiss.
Skies above, he sounded like an idiot. Eldr was still falling. Irina still had his heart and a hold on him through the collar around his neck. Lorelai was in terrible danger from Irina, he had no idea where his friends had gone, and his dragon heart kept agreeing with the collar’s whispers that he would never be free until he killed the princess. This was no time to think about kissing a girl. Even one as intriguing as Lorelai.
Apparently, he’d recovered his memories just in time to lose his mind.
When Gabril stumbled again, going down hard on one knee, Kol raced to his side and lifted the princess from his back. He cradled her against the warmth of the dragon’s fire in his chest, and waited for Gabril to get back up and curtly demand that Kol get his treacherous hands off Lorelai.
Instead, Gabril bowed his head for a moment, breathing hard, pain bracketing lines around his mouth. Kol looked at the distant line of hornbeam trees that marked the bottom of the slope and pretended he didn’t notice.
Lorelai’s scent stirred his dragon’s heart, and it pounded viciously against his chest. He gritted his teeth and gentled his hold on her. He thought of Brig, trusting him to stay alive and to save Eldr, and of his friends insisting on following him and protecting him because he was their king and their friend.
He thought of Lorelai facing down a boy who deserved to die and choosing to save him instead.
The whispers from the collar urged him to hurt, punish, and kill, but he held fast to the memory of Lorelai’s courage and stood steady.
After a moment, Gabril climbed to his feet, his hand pressing hard against his left leg. He studied Kol, his expression unreadable. Kol tried to look like he wasn’t a threat, and almost wished that Gabril could see into his thoughts the way Lorelai could.
Almost.
Except not the thoughts about kissing Lorelai.
“It’s getting close to nightfall. The last time she healed someone, she was out for two days. We need to find shelter for the night. Obviously we aren’t going to camp in the open like this. If you’re up to it, I’d appreciate you carrying her for a while.” Gabril sounded begrudging, as if he was offering Kol an olive branch but might decide to smack him with it instead.
Kol nodded, and tried hard not to let himself react as Gabril drew his sword.
“You’ll walk in front of me. My sword will be out at all times. If you try to hurt her, I will drop you where you stand.” Gabril met his eyes. “Lorelai thinks there’s something worth saving in you. Do your best to prove her right.”
Kol adjusted his grip on the princess, tipping her head against his shoulder, careful to avoid having any part of her come in contact with the collar, and then set his sights on the hornbeam trees in the distance. Their thick trunks, low cradles, and profusion of gently twisting branches that stayed low to the ground would provide excelle
nt cover. He jerked his chin toward the trees and looked to see Gabril’s reaction.
The man grunted. “That will probably work. Let’s get moving.”
Kol had taken three steps when Lorelai’s bird dove out of the air where she’d been flying in lazy circles and landed hard on his shoulder, her talons digging into his skin. He glanced at her, and she nipped at his face.
He leaned his face as far away from her as he could, and she slapped the back of his head with her wing.
Kol glanced at Gabril for help.
The man shrugged. “Don’t look at me. That bird answers to Lorelai alone.”
Sasha dug her talons farther into his skin and knocked her wing against his head again.
He glared at her. He was the king of Eldr. A Draconi warrior. He refused to be intimidated by a bird.
She bent her neck and shoved her face into his, matching him glare for glare.
Fine. Maybe he was a little intimidated. Luckily, he no longer had the words to share that humiliating fact with anyone.
Gabril chuckled, and Kol sighed.
They reached the hornbeams as the sun began its western descent. Gabril hovered over a small fire, cooking a simple dinner of beans with chunks of a rabbit Sasha hunted for them. Kol laid the princess on her bedroll inside the tent he’d helped Gabril erect. Then he settled down on a spare blanket and stared out the tent flap at the darkening sky while he thought of everything that was stacked against him now.
Somehow, he had to get his human heart back from Irina. He had to get this collar off his neck. He had to find his friends and pray that Lorelai woke up in time to help save his kingdom from the ogre invasion. If she didn’t, his people would be gone.
Brig would be gone.
His throat ached at the thought, and even the warmth of the dragon’s fire in his chest couldn’t chase the chill of dread from his skin.
After everything he’d done, every piece of himself he’d sacrificed, he couldn’t bear the thought of failing Brig.
Who is Brig? The princess’s voice entered his mind.
He whipped his head toward Lorelai and found her eyes open, though she still looked exhausted.
The Shadow Queen (Ravenspire) Page 19