Page 56 of A Court of Darkness and Dragons

It disrupted the bond between the Blood Fae and their dragons, I answered, my gaze flicking toward the empty patch of sky where Severeth had vanished. I turned the spell back onto her. I doubt it’ll last long, but neither did ours.

I wonder why Severeth has never tried that spell before, he mused.

I thought about it, watching him lean forward in his saddle until he was nearly pressed along Hein’s neck. His hands stayed light on the reins, but there was a slump in his shoulders I didn’t like. Maybe she was missing something she needed to complete the spell.

What did you use as the base? he asked, voice low even in my head.

My power. Your power.

There was a pause. Light magic, then. But Severeth doesn’t possess that… at least not anymore.

The realization slid in cold and abrupt. The warder, I whispered, almost afraid to say it aloud.

Kaelith’s wings cut through the air in a steady, even rhythm, the wind cold against my face. Zander’s voice slid back into my mind, fiercer now despite the strain in it. What did you mean?

She drained a warder, I told him, the image of Dareth’s lifeless body flashing through my thoughts. I thought she did it just to kill him… but maybe she was using his magic in some way.

It’s possible. His tone was grim, calculating. You can’t siphon from anybody but me, so I wonder what the difference is between your magics. You’re both Storm Reapers.

Maybe it’s because I don’t kill, I said after a beat. You allowed me to take your magic, and it’s easy because of our bond… but she takes it by force. Maybe that’s what kills them.

That’s likely true, he admitted, his mental voice darkening. But it’s scary as hell. I hope she doesn’t latch onto me or one of the other riders.

Kaelith’s mind swept into ours then, her voice a deep, resonant purr. Severeth cannot siphon a rider. The dragons protect their own.

Unless she pulls out that spell that disconnects us, Zander countered.

Then you and Ashlyn do the same to her, Kaelith replied, her tone edged with steel. But next time… you finish her.

Zander’s voice was low in my mind, threaded with warning. Be careful. Severeth assumed she had a way to take the dragon riders out of this war… and you just counteracted her newest weapon. She will try to remove you.

Don’t worry about me, I told him, heat sparking in my chest. She’s the one who should be afraid.

But the bond went silent—too silent.

I turned in my saddle just in time to see him slumped over Hein, his arms hanging limp against the silver scales, fingers brushing the wind with each sway of the dragon’s glide. Hein’s powerful wings kept a steady beat, but I could feel the tension in his frame from here. The massive Striker’s head was low, eyes locked on the horizon, carrying his rider like something precious and breakable.

Kaelith shifted beneath me, her muscles bunching as she flew closer, her deep rumble vibrating through my legs. He’s alive, she assured me, but even her voice carried an uneasy edge.

The wind bit hard at my cheeks as the towers of Warriath came into view, and all I could think about was the pale stillness of Zander’s face and the way his body seemed to sway more with each mile. He had given me everything he had… and now I had to pray it wasn’t too much.

Chapter

Twenty-One

Kaelith touched down with a shudder of her wings, gravel and dust swirling in her wake. I was out of the saddle before she’d fully stilled, sprinting across the grounds toward Hein as Jax and Ferrula closed in from the opposite side.

Zander hung loose in the saddle, and my heart lodged in my throat. Hein lowered himself to make it easier, his great head swinging toward me with something close to worry in his eyes.

We eased Zander down, his boots scraping against Hein’s flank before his legs buckled. His eyelids fluttered, and he blinked up at me with that familiar half-smile. “I think I need a nap.”

“You need more than a nap, Your Highness,” Jax drawled, hooking an arm under Zander’s shoulders and taking most of his weight.

I moved to his other side, slipping my arm around his waist. “Stop calling me your highness,” Zander slurred, his head lolling toward Jax.

“I’ll call you princess if you’ll just get to your bed and get some rest,” Jax shot back, smirking.

“Asshole,” Zander muttered, but there was no heat in it.