Someone crashed into my back. I staggered, heat shifting with me as the flames moved in tandem. Arms locked around my waist. I shifted, half-turning, and the violet dragon snapped its jaw shut, cutting off the blaze.
A sob tore from behind me. I stopped moving. Her weight sagged against me.
Smoke curled from the tatters of my tunic. My chest lay scorched bare, hair singed away. The shallow wound across my ribs steamed where fire left it half cauterized.
Small fingers dug into my abdomen—ten hooks like dragon claws dragging through tender muscle.
I pressed a hand over hers and raised my gaze to her father.
“Purged in dragonfire,” I said, pitching my voice above the tide of whispers that rippled through the crowd. Let him challenge it.
His jaw clenched, and his grip whitened around his sword. Argos bared his fangs and snarled, shouldering through the gathering toward the landing.
Nereus lifted his chin. “The Draconis Blood Oath is satisfied.”
A tremor jolted through me. Her fingers clamped harder, hooking into my muscles. I bit down a groan and waited for her father’s verdict.
“Take him to my floor,” he spat, then turned, vanishing into the crowd.
I met Greaves’ eyes. Deep lines furrowed his brow, but the corner of his mouth twitched—a ghost of disbelief, maybe even pride.
“You trusted your gods,” I murmured low, the words meant only for Nienna.
She sobbed into my back, each tear leaving a chilled trail down my spine.
Nyxaria descended the steps, white skirts sweeping across the stone. A hint of the confident queen Nienna would make one day.
The frown between her brows was sharp, but she gave the smallest bow before extending a hand. Masses peeled apart to form a path through the crowd. “This way, King Kallias.”
Mouths hung open. Hands covered them. Eyes stared, wide and unbelieving. Whispers passed between them like wind through dry leaves.
“I’m afraid I can’t move.” I squeezed the fingers leaving gouges in my flesh.
Above us, the dragon made a sound—deep, rumbling. A soft, strange croon.
I craned my head to meet her gaze.
She lowered, bringing an enormous eye level with mine. That iris, larger than my skull, slit to a thread before darting toward the princess behind me. It flared wide, then narrowed as it returned. The dragon exhaled, a breath strong enough to rattle loose stones.
Still, she didn’t move away.
Her eye dashed once more to Nienna. Back to me. Another hiss, low and scraping.
“She’s waiting for your assurance,” Nyxaria whispered.
I dipped my chin, searching for words a dragon might understand. “I will protect her with my life.”
The beast snorted, the sound something between disdain and amusement.
Lips touched the burned skin of my shoulder blades. Nienna’s hand unlatched from my waist and caught mine. I turned to her, then attempted to wipe the soot and tears from her cheeks, but only smeared them further.
Her eyes were swollen from crying. Her face blotchy and pale beneath the grime.
And I had never seen her more radiant.
But this trial wasn’t over.
I stepped the way Nyxaria indicated, and Nienna’s fingers squeezed mine. She drew herself up, lifted her chin, and inhaled—her expression hardening into the dignified mask of royalty. One that demanded respect.
