We feel it in each other.
The differences. The similarities. The same blood runs through our veins. The same power. The same determination to survive and to… do the right thing.
“I’ve missed you,” I tell her.
“Yet another thing I never expected you to say,” she says, giving me a wry smile.
“Well, don’t get used to that, either.”
“Also, I’ll admit, I didn’t think you’d be the one angling for a peaceful resolution under these circumstances,” Brynn replies. “You’ve definitely changed in the time that you’ve been away.”
“I’ve always been pragmatic,” I say. “Truth is, I’ve seen what the dragons are capable of. They may or may not be able to take the world above back. Of that, I can’t be sure, but I am sure of something else.”
“They’ll do it bloody,” Chad finishes my thought for me. “It will take lives. Too many from every side. We have to avoid that.”
“Yes. So, there you have it. Two Salem witches and a… half-demon, apparently, on our way to rescue a dragon prince from a plot to basically destroy the world as we know it,” I say, matter-of-factly, asI look up the wall and identify the grooves I need to put my hands and boots into in order to climb to the top of the jeweler’s building.
“Sounds like the blurb of a fantasy novel,” Brynn mutters, twisting a strand of hair around her finger like she always does when she's nervous. “Except those always end with the hero getting the guy and saving the world. I've read enough of those paperbacks to know we're probably screwed.”
34
BRYNN
Draethys feels ripped from a legend. Were it not for the gravity of our situation, or its urgency, I’d have loved to just stick around and explore the city. To marvel at its magnificent and humongous dome. The braziers and the stone structure that holds this place together so well. The towers with their flickering flames. The memories of their past sculpted into frightening yet beautiful statues of their ancestors.
The gleam of precious stones and the ruffling of silk, the golden bands and belts, the subtle shimmer of fire dancing across their human skin. I’ve caught glimpses of some younger dragons in their full forms, too, perched atop the buildings as their amber eyes scan the city, searching for anything suspicious.
“Brynn, try not to get lost in the scenery,” Esme murmurs at my elbow.
I force my gaze back as she nods toward the street.
“Good, he’s on the move again,” she says.
We’re crouched beneath the arched wing of an obsidian dragon—a decorative part of a cultural center’s façade, from what I can tell. A few yards down, sliding along the shadows without any guards, is King Bemmar himself. Cloaked in black, he’s trailing someone unknown, and naturally, we’re on his heels.
“Who is he after?” Chad whispers.
Esme narrows her eyes, watching where the lane narrows and leads up a flight of worn stone steps. “Not Byzu, he’s too big.” She shakes her head. “It’s Anees. Bemmar’s second son.”
My chest tightens. “But Anees was—he was the good one?”
Esme bites her lip. “Exactly. Which makes no sense.”
“So maybe Bemmar’s up to something else?” I suggest, heart thudding.
She gives me a patient look. “He’d never turn on his children. He’s ruthless, yeah, but he’s fair, and he loves each of his sons the same. When I told him about Byzu… he was shattered. Heartbroken, not just furious. And it seemed like something clicked for him.”
Chad leans in. “What?”
Esme shrugs. “Don’t know. But right after, he stormed out with the guards, no warning. That’s how I slipped away from the palace. And I’m convinced he let me go.”
“For you to leave, not go chasing after him,” Chad replies.
“Oh, lighten up, Valgrave. You've got two Salem sisters protecting your scared little hind,” I reply.
Chad's lips twitch, not quite a smile. It’s all I’m going to get. He’s still smarting from my spell.
Esme's already moving, her fingers weaving that shadow-magic of hers around us. The cloak settles over my skin, and I press closer to my sister's side. Magic has rules, and this one's simple: the more bodies under the cloak, the faster it frays.
