Page 71 of A Court of Darkness and Dragons

I blinked, the illusion flickering, but Veralin only laughed—low and terrible. “You feel it, don’t you? The pull of destiny. Do not deny it, Ashlyn. You were born for this.”

I tilted my head, feigning fascination with Veralin’s grand illusion, letting his red gaze drink in the lie that I might bend to his offer. My fingers brushed the key at my throat, and through the chaos of my thundering heart I whispered in my mind, Kaelith, how do I reach the keyhole?

Her magic pulsed hot through our bond, as quick as lightning. I do not know exactly what the key does, she said, her voice edged with strain. But it is tied to me—tied to us. To dragons. I believe it has something to do with our bondage.

Bondage? I pressed, careful not to let Veralin see my thoughts flicker. You mean the black dragons?

Her presence flared suddenly, violently, as though she had lashed out against something unseen. I felt her recoil, wounded, scales shuddering against the pressure of ancient wards. The throne is not what it seems, she hissed. It is the artifact he used to enslave my brethren. He sits atop their chains. That is how he holds them.

My stomach dropped, the weight of the key at my throat burning hotter than ever. If I unlock it, Kaelith… what happens?

Her silence stretched until it hurt. Finally, If the key turns… the fae ties to their dragons will dissolve.

The truth hit me like a blow to the chest. The black dragons will die?

Yes. There was no hesitation in her answer now, only grief. It cannot be helped. But the fae will not. They will simply lose their immortality.

I pressed my lips together, forcing myself not to look at Veralin, who still watched me like a predator certain its prey had nowhere left to run. He had no idea how close I was to unraveling his hold.

It is the only way, Kaelith whispered, mournful but resolute. But you cannot reach the throne while he guards it. He will never stray far from the artifact that gives him dominion.

Then we need him away from it. I forced my mind to sharpen, already building the ruse in my thoughts. How do we draw him out?

Kaelith’s growl vibrated through me, low and dangerous. Provoke him. His pride is his weakness. He will not allow insult—especially from his own blood. Make him burn to prove his power. Make him face you, away from the throne.

I let my eyes narrow as if weighing Veralin’s offer, turning the key between my fingers as though tempted. But inside, my pulse hammered like war drums. All right, I told her, gripping the plan like a weapon. Then let’s make him lose his temper.

“What do you want from me?”

Veralin’s cruel smile deepened as I spoke, as if he were savoring my question. “What do I think you can do for me? For them?” His came closer his eyes glowing with perceived victory, and I swore the air pulsed with the heartbeat of the enslaved dragons. “Give them fertility, Ashlyn. Give them life, as only a fertile female of your bloodline can. But keep them mine. All you need to do is renounce your pathetic friends, your fleeting attachments, and stand where you belong. Beside me. Feeding me.”

“You want to siphon my magic?”

His voice lowered, dark velvet soaked in venom. “Feed me your power, the power of your shifting dragon. She is the key. She always was. And through her, you.”

The words slammed into me like a physical blow. My breath caught in my chest. Kaelith. It was always you. The reason Severeth hunted me. The reason Veralin’s eyes glittered with insatiable hunger every time they touched me. Not for me alone, but for her. My dragon. My Kaelith.

But why Kaelith and not Siergen? My mind spun.

Her voice moved through my mind. Because he thought Siergen dead. Because no one ever saw through the disguise of the red Courier. But my chest constricted, rage blooming like fire. I am fertile. A female. And in this instance, I am more powerful than my brother ever was.

The truth scorched through me, searing away hesitation, until only fury remained.

I lifted my chin, letting every ounce of my Storm-born anger blaze in my eyes. “You’re pathetic,” I spat, my voice trembling with the force of it. “And your vanity rivals your stupidity.”

Veralin’s expression faltered, the smug mask cracking just slightly as my words struck him. His crimson eyes narrowed, and the air grew cold around him.

Inside my head, Kaelith’s growl thundered through our bond, proud and feral. Yes, little storm. Break him. Bring him to his knees.

Chapter

Twenty-Eight

Veralin moved toward me, his shadow spilling across the blood-stained floor like a living thing. His red eyes glowed brighter, locking on me with venomous hunger. “Defy me, and I will burn every scrap of your fragile life. Death to your squad. Death to your dragon. Death to your lover.” His lips curved, cruel and deliberate. “I will make you watch them break before I destroy you.”

I laughed—quick, brittle, reckless. “Your threats are getting old.” My boots echoed across the stone as I moved again, forcing Veralin’s gaze to track me. The throne pulsed behind him, that cursed heartbeat I couldn’t ignore.

Wait for my signal, I whispered into Zander’s mind. When I give it, rush the throne. The others will follow. I’ll need the distraction.