The weapon sank deep into the spine, jarring against the vertebrae. The beast twisted as the shaft drove deeper, past shifting bones. It convulsed, then crashed to the ground. I tightened my grip, refusing to let go.
Short legs buckled beneath its weight. With a groan, the mammoth collapsed. I gave the spear a brutal twist to ensure it was dead. It twitched once, then lay still.
My limbs trembled as I sank to my knees against the rough hide. Armor scraped against wiry hair.
Shaking, I loosened the buckle on my gauntlet, my throat tight as I yanked it off.
Weathered, calloused skin glowed with the light of the sun. Warm. Assuring. A shudder ran through me, and I slumped forward, eyes burning.
“Elohios be glorified,” I whispered, tears carving trails through the blood on my face. He had not forsaken me.
Greaves reached me, his hands fumbling at my chestplate. “You did it, Kal. Radaan is safe.”
The heavy plate slid off the beast, crashing into a pool of crimson.
Light erupted from my chest, seeping through the layers of padded clothing as if they weren’t there.
“Rise, Golden Warrior, Chosen of Elohios.” Greaves’ words pulled me to my feet. I rose, bracing my boots upon the fallen mammoth, and cheers rose from the crowd.
Civilians and warriors stood side by side. Soldiers pressed their fists over their hearts in salute. Commoners cheered, their cries interspersed with sobs as families clung to each other.
The light beneath my skin flickered once, flaring with power before it blinked out. Just like before. As if nothing had changed. As if the only difference in this fight had been my doubt.
I turned my face to the sky, my soul stretching outward, searching for answers. Had I been forgiven without asking? Had I been shown mercy? The deception of my relationship with Nienna churned in my gut—so vile, so wrong. Yet Elohios had still granted his blessing.
I was the Protector of Radaan. King of the Plentiful Plains. Golden Warrior, chosen by Elohios.
A confused soul.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Nienna
Watching Kallias ride away, death etched across his face, was unbearable. The day I left home had been easy compared to the raw ache that tore through me when he turned his back, spurred his horse, and vanished into the distance.
My chest burned with loss, shoulders weighed down by dread. Dageel’s estate felt suffocating, a silence thick with worry as we waited—listened—for the blare of a horn. A signal that he had slain the beast—or fallen to it.
Gayle sat in the sitting room, the faint creak of the sofa barely audible as she shifted. I remained by the window, staring out at the sprawling green that had swallowed Kallias whole. The absence of my dragons gnawed at me. This was his duty, a trial of kingship, a blessing from a god—but with a dragon at my side, I could have kept him in view.
I could have known.
Whether he was hurt.
Whether he had died.
“He is blessed, Princess,” Gayle murmured, her voice heavy with worry. “More than any ruler before him. Elohios will guide him.”
“He’s still just a man.” I whispered. Radaanians had no dragons. No magic. I’d studied the paintings of the mammoths—towering behemoths that would dwarf any human. A king on horseback would barely reach their chest.
“You haven’t seen him in battle.”
“The soldiers will help him?” I asked, uneasy. Her words carried a gravity that implied everything rested on him.
“No.”
I spun toward her, disbelief striking. “You can’t be serious.”
She stood and crossed over, joining me in the silence. “Princess, your land is far from here. You worship no gods, only dragons. Magic comes from creatures you can see. Here, we have faith in the unseen. Elohios has given Kallias a sign of his blessing—a rare gift. When he fights, he… glows with light that stretches across the Veil.”
