When she veered above K’seer, I rested my cheek against her scales, my grip loosening.
She was showing me my people.
I couldn’t just vanish into the sky and leave them—not to Ronan, who had the temperament of a crab. He might inherit the throne of Draconia, but he would need a steady voice of reason at his side. Sorrow lanced through mychest.
Tallon would rule Radaan next.
My brother couldn’t face him alone.
Kalepsi circled above K’dan, then angled back toward the landing. I frowned with confusion, wondering why she wouldn’t return me to the Nest—then saw my father.
White hair stark against the night, he watched us at the tip of the landing.
Argos hovered above us, pulling up as Kalepsi beat her wings, slowing her descent. She dropped hard. Stone cracked under her weight—unbonded dragons did not land with care. My teeth clacked, the copper tang of blood seeping over my tongue. I held tight, breath hitching as her long neck twisted to peer at me. Her pupil widened.
We weren’t bonded, but the soft croon she gave—nostrils flared—felt like reassurance.
Father kept his back to us, hands laced behind him, tension rigid across his shoulders. His robe, a shade of summer sky, snapped in the wind. Boots planted, spine straight.
The father I adored. The man fated to kill the one I loved.
He would do it. I had no illusions. As a Well, magic filled his every breath. Faster, stronger, more powerful than any rider. Kallias was a mere mortal. He stood no chance.
Grief sank into my bones, heavy and jagged, iron driven through marrow.
Kalepsi chuffed, lifting her head, teeth clicking together in a sound too gentle for her size. Encouraging. Urging. Like a mother nudging hatchlings from the Nest.
I drew in a breath, but it caught in my throat. When she lowered herself close to the ground to ease my descent, I tucked loose strands of hair behind my ear, then slid down her side. Even so, I stumbled when my boots struck stone.
Her muzzle nudged my back, and I staggered forward—toward him.
With arms wrapped tight around my ribs, I crossed the distance as Kalepsi launched skyward, vanishing into thenight.
Father’s robe snapped again, revealing his pale tunic and breeches. I stepped to the edge beside him. Wind tore past us. The city lay far below, a sprawl of dim rooftops and glinting lights.
Beyond the cliffs stretched the north sea. And beyond that—Radaan.
“You have to kill him?” My words barely carried, plucked away by the gusts.
“Have you come to make your plea?” His voice cracked, gravel thick in every syllable.
My nose burned, a sign more pitiful tears hovered close. I flared my nostrils, fighting to hold them at bay. “I already have.”
He inhaled, slowly. Raised his hand.
Moonlight gleamed on his skin; steam curled from his palm, as though the heat of his magic boiled his blood. He closed his fist, knuckled it behind his back.
“He has done this to himself.”
I studied his face. Wrinkles carved deeper than before, eyes raw and bloodshot.
“You will never forgive me. I know that. But he made this choice.”
“He came to right our wrongs. He didn’t lie.” My nails dug crescents into my skin; pain helped. It steadied me. “We haven’t lied. He chose honor, Father. You have to see that.”
He bowed his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. “This is bigger thanchoice. It’s consequence: mine, for sending you to a foreign court alone; yours, for loving a man you were fated to lose.” His voice broke. “Do you think I want my daughter—my treasure—to watch me kill the one she…” He faltered, then swallowed. “Loves? I want to see him bleed for the pain he caused you, for his recklessness. But I’ve never wanted you to suffer.
“Were I a weaker Vessel, the blood oath might only destroy me and Argos. But as a Well? It will destroy Draconia.”
