“I tell you the truth.” My words were steady, though doubt scraped inside my ribs. He was Cruor. He wanted to test my blood, see if it could summon dragons at his command. Could Velli magic latch onto Draconis power like a parasite? Could hebypass Tallon entirely and keep me stored like a filled canteen, uncorked only when useful?
If he could—he wouldn’t need to put up with Tallon.
To him, it was worth the risk.
“There are things I suspect even you are ignorant of.” His free hand curved around my throat, tilting my head aside. My pulse skipped a beat, the first thrum of panic coursing through me.
“You are wise. Your parents taught you well.” His gaze fixed on the frantic beat beneath my skin. “But they sheltered you. Some things you could only learn from… experimentation.”
“If I could call the dragons, why would I wait? Wouldn’t I have done so by now?”
Because I didn’t know how.
Frustration flared hotter than fear. Nothing answered when I reached inward—no spark, no mechanism waiting to trigger. It felt like shouting into a well, hearing only my own echo return.
“You are naïve, Dragon’s Heart.” Hips pressed into mine. Fingers dug into my waist as his mouth lowered to my neck. “Untested power. Untapped instinct. You never tried to wield it.”
His lips brushed my pulse, sighing at the frantic beat.
“I don’t take pleasure in controlling others.” Even if I could command the dragons, I wouldn’t. That bond belonged to their riders. I would not twist it like the Velli twisted their people.
“And that is why you will remain a caged pet rather than a queen.” His voice softened into something nearly tender before he sank to his knees.
I gasped, and the balustrade bit into my back as I recoiled.
His grip tightened at my hips, bruising pressure blooming beneath his hands. “Surely you didn’t think I would be so careless.” He lifted my knee with practiced ease.
No.
The protest died in my throat. Copper flooded my tongue as I bit down, air scarce against instinct to thrash. Panic threatened to fracture my composure.
“Don’t make me call Egath.” His breath ghosted over my thigh.
Please—Ronan! Gyrak!
My gaze snapped to the darkened room. Egath watched, green eyes intent, posture relaxed. Ready. Willing. A servant awaiting instruction. A tool.
I clutched the smooth stone, tilting my head back toward the sky. Tears stung, blurring the moon-drenched clouds.
They weren’t coming. Whatever Kallias believed, whatever hope I’d clung to, they didn’t hear me. I had no magic. I was a flightless hatchling, cared for and loved, but nothing more.
His mouth brushed sensitive skin.
My foot jerked.
A low chuckle vibrated against me. “Come, Egath, remind her to be still.”
His long body unfolded to full height, tilting his head with an expression threaded with anticipation rather than reluctance as he approached.
Could I throw myself over? Egath would catch me before I cleared the stone. Resistance would only feed cruelty. I had to pretend—play my part, the role that would protect me. A tortured whimper escaped me, one that could’ve been interpreted as pleasure.
Above us, clouds churned, driven fast by the rising wind. Moonlight struggled through their thick shapes. I fixed on them, on that blur of moisture. Such a small thing, but the rain it carried and the shade it provided blessed and broke nations.
I could almost pretend I didn’t feel the sting of a blade along my inner thigh—that I didn’t hear Egath’s slow approach… That the descending cloud was dragon-shaped.
A thunderclap split the night. Stone shuddered. Metal rang against marble.
I jerked, gasping as the sky ignited.
