Page 66 of A Court of Darkness and Dragons

But the truth of his words lingered in the air like a blade at our throats. We were prey walking into a predator’s nest, and every step closer to the castle meant darker shadows, and more teeth.

Chapter

Twenty-Five

The air shifted, as heavy as a storm breaking. Kaelith’s growl curled through my mind, deep and furious. I don’t like this. Her voice vibrated with a primal kind of rage, her power prickling against my skin even through the distance.

I know, I sent back, swallowing against the ache in my chest. But it couldn’t be helped. Her reply was nothing but a hiss, her agitation pressing at the back of my mind.

We stepped from the narrow, damp tunnel into a cavernous chamber. Our boots echoed against smooth stone, the sound eerily loud in the emptiness. Torches burned along the walls, spilling their orange light across the room’s breadth. It was massive—wide enough for dragons to walk through, tall enough for their wings to stretch, though the air smelled stale, as though no beast had passed here in some time.

“This must be a holding room for their dragons,” I whispered, glancing at the iron rings embedded into the stone along the walls, places where chains had likely held dragons once. A shiver ran down my spine.

Zander’s gaze swept over the chamber, pointed and calculating, before lifting to the far side. “There.”

I followed his gesture. Stone stairs, carved broad and steep, climbed toward unseen heights. My stomach knotted. “These must lead up to the throne room.”

The others fell in around us, boots muffled on the gritty floor, the silence broken only by the crackle of torch flames. We started forward—toward the stairs, toward Veralin. The Blood King.

Then—darkness.

The torches extinguished in unison, like a great exhale had sucked the fire from the room. The sudden blackness was absolute, swallowing us whole.

Ferrula hissed, sword whispering from its sheath. “That wasn’t natural.”

“No shit,” Jax muttered, the scrape of his boots telling me he’d stepped closer to her.

I stilled, heart hammering. My storm magic flickered against my skin, desperate to ignite. Kaelith⁠—

Her growl tore through my mind, louder now. Something waits in the dark.

The chamber breathed around us, vast and unseen, and I realized the torches hadn’t just gone out. The air itself felt heavier, darker—like the shadows themselves had come alive.

“Zander?” My voice cracked the heavy dark that had swallowed the room, but there was no answer. My pulse jumped. Ferrula? Jax? Naia? Nothing. Not even an echo of footsteps. Only silence.

Kaelith?

I am here, her voice thundered in my head, firm and grounding.

“What is going on?” I whispered, my own voice sounding small against the oppressive weight of the dark.

Dark magic. It is isolating you.

“Why?”

That is yet to be⁠—

Her voice cut off as pale light flickered before me, spinning into a shape that made my lungs seize. A woman—her hair like mine, but glimmering with a silver sheen, lavender eyes glowing, ears pointed with delicate sharpness. She wore a gown of deep-violet, and her hands trembled as she reached for me.

“Ashlyn,” her voice was soft, broken, aching. “Why have you forsaken me? I died for you. Protected you.”

My throat tightened until I could barely breathe. “Mom?” The word slipped from me before I could stop it, before reason could slice through the ache clawing up from my chest.

That is not your mother, Kaelith’s voice cut through, calm, anchoring. This magic is meant to break your will. It is similar to the dragon trial.

I clenched my fists. “You are not my mother.”

The woman’s image wavered, then melted like smoke dissolving in the wind. In her place, another shimmered into existence.