Page 55 of A Court of Darkness and Dragons

I let another drop fall past his lips, my voice quieter now. “This isn’t something he can change later. But that bond allowed me to siphon his magic. I didn’t realize I took it all.”

Ferrula shrugged, her mouth twisting. “Everybody runs the risk of burnout. He will recover.”

I didn’t answer, just kept my palm steady against his mouth, willing him to take it in—willing it to work—because if it didn’t, nothing else would matter.

Riven’s voice cut through the tense silence. “It won’t matter when you’re the queen.”

Ferrula grunted, and I pulled my hand back from Zander’s lips, glaring at her. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.”

“We’re all thinking it,” Jax said from where he stood beside Ferrula, his broad shoulders tense but his expression infuriatingly casual.

I swept my gaze across them, catching the flicker of guilt in Riven’s eyes, the half-smirk on Tae’s lips, the knowing look Naia tried to hide. “Obviously you’ve been discussing this behind my back,” I said, returning my focus to Zander, searching his face for any twitch, any hint of returning color.

“Well, yeah,” Riven admitted without shame. “It’ll be cool to have a queen who’s a rider. That’s never happened before.”

“There have been many female riders who were—” I started.

“—part of the court, sure,” Tae cut in smoothly, “but not a queen.”

“Zander doesn’t want to be king,” I reminded them firmly.

Ferrula leaned toward me, her green eyes steady, voice low. “He doesn’t, which is exactly why he’s the right choice. If we win this war, he’s the one we need. Even Dorian knows it. I think he would have stepped down even if he weren’t infertile.” She gave a small shrug, her scar catching the light. “I have more respect for the older Rayne than ever… but Zander is meant to be king. Dorian doesn’t have his power, and only Zander has you.”

Her words settled in my chest like a stone, heavy and unyielding, but there was something in the way she said you that made my heart pound. Not just a lover. Not just a rider. Something more. Something binding.

Zander’s low groan had my head snapping toward him. His lashes fluttered, and then his storm-gray eyes blinked open, still hazy but unmistakably alive.

“What… happened?” His voice was rough, frayed at the edges.

Relief slammed into me so hard I almost laughed. “You let me drain you,” I said, pressing my palm to his cheek. “And I had to give you blood to make you heal faster. It worked—barely.”

His brows drew together. “You drained me?”

“I needed enough magic to break Severeth’s spell,” I said quickly, knowing the argument that could follow. “You should have stopped me. I wouldn’t have⁠—”

“—done it unless you had to,” he finished for me, voice sure. He exhaled slowly, still pale but steadying. “From my side, it felt… like you reached into the core of me. Not my magic, not my body—me. And then it was gone, pulled so fast I thought I’d fall apart.” His gaze softened, though it was tinged with a warning. “If you’d taken any more, Ashe, I think you would’ve taken me with it.”

I swallowed hard, my throat tightening. “I know. We have to be more careful.”

His eyes swept over me, checking for signs of strain. “You look like you’ve been through hell.”

“I feel like it.” I straightened, glancing toward the horizon where the army still loomed. “We have to get back. You can ride with me or with Hein.”

A corner of his mouth lifted. “I’d love to ride on Kaelith’s back sometime⁠—”

I arched a brow. “Oh, would you now?”

“—but not during a war,” he finished dryly. “Get me to my dragon.”

I reached for his arm, bracing him as Hein lowered his massive head beside us. The air smelled of smoke and lightning, and every muscle in my body screamed that we were far from done here.

Jax slid in beside me as I hooked my arm under Zander’s, the weight of him telling me exactly how much strength he was lacking. We got him upright, and even with Jax taking most of his weight, Zander’s steps were sluggish, his jaw tight.

He didn’t protest when Jax boosted him onto Hein’s back—proof enough of how bad it was. He adjusted the ropes himself, looping one around his waist and tying it to the saddle. The movement was mechanical, practiced, and not at all like him. Zander Rayne didn’t secure himself to a saddle unless he thought there was a real chance he might not stay conscious.

I vaulted onto Kaelith, the familiar slide of her scales under my hands a small comfort. One by one, Thrall Squad lifted into the air, wings beating hard against the wind. Thankfully, it appeared Severeth had decided on a temporary retreat, her black dragons fleeing before our approach.

Zander’s mind brushed against mine the moment Hein’s wings caught the currents. What did that spell do?