Page 96 of A Court of Darkness and Dragons

His gaze seared into me, eyes like twin suns. I nodded once, my throat tight.

His mind pressed deeper. My son looks to you. He will not approach me. I must touch him to reconnect him to me, and to the horde.

What do you want me to do? I asked silently.

Bring him to me.

I slid from Kaelith’s saddle, boots striking the earth with a jolt. It wasn’t easy to move through the throng. The freed dragons loomed taller than me even at their smallest, and though they shifted uneasily to let me pass, the press of scales and wings made the air feel claustrophobic. Still, step by step, I pushed forward.

The small golden stayed tight at my heels, his claws clawing the grass, his breath quick and uncertain. When I broke into the open, only a few feet from Siergen’s towering bulk, the young dragon froze. His trembling head lifted, golden eyes staring wide at the true leader of the horde.

I turned back, reaching out to brush my hand against his snout, my fingers smoothing over scales still warm from flight. His breath gusted against my cheek, shaky and raw.

“Siergen,” I whispered aloud, my voice carrying into the silence. “What is your son’s name?”

The golden titan lowered his massive head, grief and pride radiating from him in equal measure. Ria wanted to name him Namiren.

My throat tightened, the name heavy with love and legacy. I pressed my palm more firmly to the young dragon’s muzzle. “Namiren,” I said softly, “meet your father. This is your home.”

The little golden dragon whimpered once, then took a single step forward.

Siergen moved with a slowness that belied his size, every step measured as though afraid the earth itself might break beneath him. His scales blazed like a second sun as he drew closer to Namiren.

The young dragon shivered violently, his small wings twitching, claws scraping the earth. Then—hesitantly—he lifted his head. When their noses touched, the trembling stilled.

Namiren leaned closer to me, pressing his flank against my side as if to anchor himself, but I felt it—he was listening. Communicating with his father in a way only dragons could.

Siergen’s head turned toward me then, and the look in his eyes nearly broke me. Pain. Fury. Shame. All woven into the golden fire of his gaze.

I did not know he had been harvested from his mother’s body, his voice thundered into my mind. He was too underdeveloped to live.

I swallowed hard, laying a hand against Namiren’s warm scales. “Veralin was one of the most powerful fae alive,” I whispered. “But he used that power only to enslave those around him.”

Yes, Siergen growled, his mental voice edged with sorrow. I have made the connection with my son. I can see his mind… it is completely undeveloped. His body is that of an adolescent, but his magic—his magic is fully formed. The next few years will be trying for the horde.

I pressed my cheek against Namiren’s neck, my throat aching. “But you can help him?”

We will help them all, Siergen answered. His gaze swept the cluster of dragons huddled beneath Kaelith’s wings and against the flanks of their chosen riders. We must contain their magic while they learn and heal.

I stroked Namiren’s scales, feeling the pulse of his heart beneath my palm. “Kaelith said their souls are damaged.”

Yes, Siergen admitted, his voice reverent and raw. In truth, I never dreamed this was possible. What your mother did—what you have done—is a miracle.

I exhaled shakily, bitterness slipping into the air between us. “Yeah, but my grandfather is the one who put us in this place to begin with.”

He let his power control him, Siergen rumbled. His wings shifted, blotting out the sky for a moment. It can happen to any being with magic. Even a dragon.

The weight of his words sank into me.

The air stirred then, heavy wingbeats breaking the stillness. Two dragons landed at the edge of the clearing, their bodies tense, their eyes wild with a desperate kind of hope.

Siergen’s gaze flicked to me. They are the parents of one of the younglings huddled near Koddos.

I turned in time to see a small blue dragon lift its head from beneath Koddos’ protective flank, its wide eyes locking onto the pair that had just arrived. The sound it made—half cry, half roar—split the clearing in two.

Koddos lowered his massive head until his nose nudged the little blue dragon tucked against his side. The youngling’s eyes flicked toward him uncertainly, then toward the two larger dragons. A deep rumble rolled from Koddos’ chest, coaxing, encouraging.

The small dragon inched forward, talons dragging grooves in the earth. Its wings trembled, but when Siergen stepped in front of it and lowered his great head, touching his snout gently to the youngling’s, the trembling eased.