Page 93 of A Court of Darkness and Dragons

The dragon leaned a little heavier into me, as if it understood. And hope warmed the shadows.

Chapter

Thirty-Eight

The screech of iron against stone echoed like thunder as the last cage door groaned open. One by one, the dragons shuffled forward, their claws scraping the cavern floor, wings trembling with uncertainty. Their scales shimmered with their restored colors, but their movements were hesitant, wary, like creatures unused to freedom.

Zander moved to my side, his gaze flicking from the dragons to Kaelith and Hein, who loomed at the top of the chamber, their eyes glowing like twin suns. “How do we get them to follow?” he asked quietly. “Kaelith and Hein can’t speak to them—not the way they do with the horde.”

I shook my head, my hand still stroking the golden dragon’s scales as it pressed close to me like a child seeking comfort. “We can’t command them. They don’t understand that. We have to… lead them.”

He frowned. “Lead them?”

I began walking toward the stairs. The golden dragon walked with me as if he were afraid I would leave him behind. We ascended the steps, and the others followed.

Before I could speak, a rush of wind whipped overhead as shadows moved above. Other dragons—ones who had been tethered to the Blood Fae and had fled into the wasteland—were gliding down through broken arches, their wings whispering in the air. They landed hard on the stone floor, their bodies coiling low, their massive forms shrinking as they lowered wings and necks in a gesture of submission.

I held my breath as they crept closer, step by hesitant step, like wounded animals inching toward a safe hand. Their wings sagged, their necks bowed, as if begging for approval.

Kaelith’s eyes flared, her gold gaze burning as she shifted. Slowly, deliberately, she stretched one of her great wings outward, an unmistakable gesture of acceptance. Three dragons immediately pressed themselves against her side, their bodies trembling until they melted against her, curling like hatchlings seeking warmth. Her tail coiled protectively around them, and a low, soothing rumble vibrated from her chest.

My throat closed as I watched the golden dragon at my side lean toward me, pressing its muzzle against my chest. Its breath shuddered, hot and uneven. I lifted my hand and ran it over his scales, stroking gently. “It’s all right,” I whispered. “You’re safe now.”

The others watched, their crimson eyes dimming, confused, before one shifted, then another, following Kaelith’s example. Soon, nearly fifty dragons—creatures who had once been enslaved, twisted into weapons of death—clustered around Kaelith. They huddled together like lost children, their bodies pressed into one another for reassurance.

Kaelith’s voice thrummed through me, solemn and steady. They have never known independence, Ashlyn. Their every breath, every choice, belonged to their riders. Now that those bonds are severed, they look for guidance. For a mother to teach them what freedom means.

I looked up at Zander, my hand still stroking the golden dragon’s trembling flank. “I think Kaelith just became the mother of fifty dragons,” I whispered.

And though the thought terrified me, it also sparked something fierce and unshakable in my chest. Hope.

Kaelith’s presence coiled through my mind as the castle ruins settled into a fragile, aching quiet. Fifty dragons huddled beneath her outstretched wings, her vast body a living shield around them. Their eyes flicked between her and Hein, as if uncertain.

Many of these dragons still have parents back on the isle, Kaelith murmured, her voice threaded with something softer than I’d ever felt from her. But some… some are orphans. Those who have lost their kin will not be left adrift. We will guide them. They will be made whole again.

My hand smoothed over the golden dragon’s scales, his body pressed tight to my side as though he could crawl beneath my skin if I let him. His tail curled around my boots like a child clinging to its mother’s skirts. “Will they grow?” I asked quietly.

Kaelith’s answer came slowly, thoughtfully. It is hard to say. Their souls are damaged. What Veralin did cannot be erased. But their spirit… that is strong. Honestly, Ashlyn, what you have done here is a miracle.

A lump rose in my throat. I glanced down at the pendant against my chest, still glowing, heavy with its weight of blood and sacrifice. “My mother died for this pendant,” I whispered. “So there would be a way to set them free.”

Yes, Kaelith replied, her voice low and solemn. She did. And I am sorry you never got to meet her. But I know her spirit lives on in you.

My eyes stung, tears threatening, but I pressed my palm harder against the golden dragon’s scales. “Thank you, Kaelith. I appreciate it.”

She rumbled in my mind, a sound that was almost a purr, her wings settling heavier around the cluster of freed dragons. All except the gold. He pressed closer, awkwardly folding his wings as though trying to make himself smaller, just so he could press more tightly against me.

Across from us, Hein gave a sudden growl and launched himself skyward, his wings sending a blast of wind over us. I flinched, one hand tightening around the pendant.

“What’s he doing?” I asked, turning to Zander.

Zander exhaled slowly, a weary smile pulling at his lips. “He’s grabbing them a snack. He assumes they eat mostly sea creatures.”

Leyriam nodded, his pale braid slipping forward over one shoulder. “That is true,” he said gravely. “Other than the animals protected within the Fae Sanctuary—and the ones Veralin tainted with dark magic—the rest of this isle is devoid of life. The seas alone have sustained them.” He glanced around. “We will seek out the remaining Blood Fae. With the bond to their dragons naturally severed, they will live, but are now mortal.”

“Good,” Zander said.

The golden dragon nuzzled into my shoulder with a low rumble, and I stroked his head with shaking fingers. Fifty dragons, broken but free. My mother’s sacrifice honored at last. And Kaelith’s wings wrapped around them all like the promise of a new beginning.