Page 85 of A Court of Darkness and Dragons

I believed him. Gods, I believed him. It wasn’t just the steel in his voice, but the way his jaw trembled, the sheen of unshed tears in those storm-tossed eyes. In so many ways, Zander was closer to Siergen than any human, halfling, or fae. It wasn’t just the bond between riders and dragons—it was that Siergen had raised him when no one else had. The sincerity written across Zander’s face was a mirror of the dragon who’d carried him through every trial, every betrayal, every loss.

My chest ached so fiercely it felt like my ribs might splinter. “You know what’s worse?” I asked, my voice shaking.

“What could be worse than this?” His thumb lingered against my cheek, his expression begging me not to break further.

I swallowed hard, meeting his gaze. “He won’t blame me. He’ll blame himself. Kaelith knows it. Hein knows it. So does every dragon on this island.”

Zander’s eyes shuttered, his hand falling away as he glanced down. He didn’t try to deny it—he couldn’t. The silence between us was a confirmation all its own.

Behind us, Leyriam’s voice cut through the roar of the dragons. “Your grandfather could not reverse the bond. Not without his daughter’s pendant.”

My head snapped toward him, confusion curdling into fresh dread. “What pendant?” I asked. My voice was harsher than I intended, tight with hope I didn’t dare feel.

Leyriam’s gaze was steady, grave. “The one he stole from your mother when he killed her. The one we stole from him and hid in the one place no full-blooded fae could enter.”

“Is there a way to save the dragons?” My voice came out desperate, almost raw.

Leyriam’s pale eyes flickered toward the cavern, toward the endless thrashing of wings and tortured roars. His expression was unreadable. “I am not sure,” he admitted slowly. “But… possibly.”

Before I could press him, Kaelith’s power flared so violently through our bond that my knees buckled. The force of it rattled my bones, making my vision swim.

Zander lunged forward, his arm circling my waist, keeping me upright. “Ashlyn—what is going on?” His voice panicked.

“Kaelith,” I whispered, clutching his tunic with shaking hands.

The air around the dragons shimmered like heat haze, their obsidian scales rippling as though reality itself bent around them. Recognition struck me hard. I knew that spell. I had seen Kaelith use it once before—on King Emlem Rayne, when she had locked him into stasis to prevent his death. But this… this was magnitudes more powerful, a tidal wave of magic bearing down on the cavern.

Zander held me tighter as I gasped, the strain in my chest threatening to tear me apart. “She needs me,” I managed, barely able to force the words past my lips. I closed my eyes, surrendering, letting my Storm Fire bleed into her. My magic surged down the tether, pouring into Kaelith like water rushing into a vessel already brimming to the edge.

The dragons stilled, one by one. Wings that had battered their cages fell limp. Claws that had raked metal slid down as their massive bodies collapsed to the stone. Their eyes, burning with pain, fluttered shut. Not dead. Not gone. Sleeping.

A hush fell over the cavern, heavy and absolute. No more roars. No more shrieks of agony. Just the sound of my ragged breathing as Zander cradled me against his chest, his heart hammering as wildly as mine.

The silence was so profound it was deafening.

Kaelith’s voice slipped into my mind, edged with exhaustion. The dragons are in stasis. Their bloodline remains intact. But this is only a pause, Ashlyn. You need to break their bond with the Blood Fae, or the corruption will return when they wake. They will die.

I swallowed hard, my hand still clutching Zander’s sleeve as if I needed his anchor to keep from drowning. I turned to Leyriam, the glow of his wards casting his features in a pale light. “If there is even a chance to save them, we have to try. Will you help us?”

The Light Fae commander’s gaze shifted, not to me, but to Zander. His silver hair caught the torchlight as his expression hardened. “I will,” he said at last, voice carrying the weight of oaths centuries old. “But you must understand—” His eyes snapped back to mine. “You risk more than just your own life, Rider. You risk that of your dragon. If the tether does not break cleanly, it could destroy her.”

Zander’s arm tightened around me, his jaw clenching as he stared between us. I felt the warning in him before he spoke, but my heart had already made the choice.

Chapter

Thirty-Five

Idrew in a shaky breath, the weight of Kaelith’s words still squeezing my chest. “Then tell me,” I said, my voice rougher than I intended as I looked at Leyriam. “Tell me about my mother’s pendant. How could it help the black dragons?”

Leyriam’s expression softened, though grief shadowed the lines of his face. His gaze flicked to the cavern below us, where the dragons lay unnaturally still, their breaths slow and heavy under Kaelith’s spell. “Your mother,” he began, his tone reverent, “was defiance woven into flesh and blood. When she saw what Veralin had done, when she realized the extent of his corruption, she created something no fae before her dared.”

He lifted his hand, tracing a small glowing rune in the air as if sketching a memory. “The pendant was forged from her own blood, tempered with ancient light wards, and bound by her life’s magic. A tether not to enslave, but to release. It is the only artifact that can sever the unnatural bonds between the black dragons and their riders. She designed it so their power would no longer be a weapon wielded by those wishing to enslave them.”

I placed a hand over my chest where my own pendant hung, heavy and cold against my skin, though I knew it wasn’t the same one. “So it was her final act of defiance?”

Leyriam nodded slowly, his silver hair catching in the cavern light. “Yes. Even when Veralin held the pendant in his hand, he could not use it. It rejected him. Just as it would reject anyone who sought dominion over the dragons rather than their freedom. And he could not destroy it either, for her blood was too tightly woven into its magic.”

I swallowed hard, throat tight. “Then that’s where he got the idea, isn’t it? To restore their fertility. That was my mother’s idea.”