Page 70 of Fated to the Demon Lord

As the gate rose far enough for us to pass under, Mother gripped my arm and pulled me forward.

I glanced behind. Vaelor plunged the dragon’s claws into his own neck, clawing, ripping off scales. His throat continued to heat, and when he released the blazing fire, he did so on his own body, scorching his own flesh as he drove his claws even deeper.

It felt like a loss. Vaelor would be unstoppable in such a body if he managed to bond with it. But the bonding magic required him to kill the body he wished to bond with from the outside—not from possession. There was no way Vaelor could defeat such a creature in his spirit form, and he definitely couldn’t use me, or even the fellow guards who were nothing but toothpicks compared to this massive beast.

“Denara.” My mother tugged on my arm at my slow steps, bringing me out of my thoughts. I hurried forward, and we rushed out the gate.

We hastened across the valley, heading for the forest where Erlinen and the others waited. I found myself glancing back every few seconds, hoping to see Vaelor. I told myself he’d be fine and focused on my brother, who had a pale, dazed look about him.

A loud roar caused the rocks to rattle, and I gazed upward to see a massive shape soaring through the sky. The dragon swooped past us and then wheeled around before descending to the ground on three legs. His front claw was pulled to his body, bleeding and dripping. He breathed deep, scales torn from his chest, and the smell of charred flesh and blood oozing out, falling in giant drops into the earth.

Gerand cried out, and Mother’s hold on my arm grew tense. Her hair flew wildly about her, and she gazed at me with frenzied eyes.

“Can you control him in this state?” she asked.

I stared into the dragon’s orange, agony-filled eyes. This was Vaelor. “I don’t need to control him.”

He would never hurt me.

He reached out with the claw he’d held against him and laid Feron’s body in the grass.

My heart broke at Feron’s mangled form, and the way Vaelor had carefully handled his friend’s remains. “We’ll take him with us,” I said.

Vaelor emitted a low rumble. He drove his dragon claws into his body one more time, slicing into his chest and going deeper. Blood gushed from the wound in streams. He released one last roar of agony before ripping out his own heart. The dragon collapsed to the earth, the large, dripping organ dislodging from his talons.

Vaelor came out of the dragon and into existence.

He walked up to Feron, whose bones were crushed. Blood and gore flowed out of Feron’s lifeless body, making him barely recognizable. With slow, labored steps, Vaelor sank to his knees.

His wings unfurled as his body arched, his face lifting toward the sky. A raw cry tore from his throat—a sound of pain and helplessness that seemed to rip through him. His chest rose and fell in ragged breaths. Then he folded inward, his wings drawing tight against his back as he hunched over his fallen servant.

Erlinen cried out from the tree line and rushed to Feron’s side, sobbing.

Mother released me and moved to the maid’s side, laying a hand on Erlinen’s shoulder. “We’ll take his body with us, and we will honor him.” She motioned to the trees, and several others moved forward to help retrieve Feron’s body.

“Did we lose anyone else?” Mother asked.

“No.” Bargoth lumbered up to us. “Everyone else got out.”

Mother searched the surrounding faces. “There was a couple who were taken by guards.”

“Once they saw Mirvarax going wild, their guards abandoned them, and they made it out,” Bargoth answered.

When Feron’s body was wrapped and moved, Vaelor rose, a haunted expression on his face.

“If you bonded with a body, would you be able to raise his spirit?” I asked, thinking of all of the bodied soldiers in Spiritu Malignos who raised the spirits of the mercenary army. Technically, that had to be within Vaelor’s powers.

Vaelor’s head fell forward. “I’d need a soul blade in order to raise the dead and Throk won’t issue those until after the Final Proving is over.”

That was right. I recalled Throk telling me about the obsidian blades used to raise the spirits from their dead bodies. There were still five days until the Final Proving ended. I’d learned from the book on Spiritu Malignos that a spirit had to be raised within two days after their body died or else not even the soul blades would work on them.

There was no way to save Feron.

But that didn’t mean Vaelor couldn't claim a body. “What about the guards?” I asked him.

He raised his head a little to look at me. “What about them?”

“You don’t want one of their bodies?”