Page 112 of Only Flames Remain

Sorin

At Emrys’s announcement, I immediately prepared for flight toward Southgate. I would be damned if I allowed Myrosian spies to step foot in my kingdom. King Mavros had given us his blessing, and Emrys, Valerian, and I had taken flight at once.

It had been only a matter of moments since I had been standing before the throne, begging for the freedom to choose my fated over an alliance. My mind was still reeling as I jumped off the balcony with my brothers in tow.

No one was faster than a dragon.

We could make it to Southgate in a matter of hours, where it would take days for an army.

It was easier to communicate in our dragon forms, though sometimes our thoughts came streaming down the bond all at once, muddling together. It was imperative that we stayed in control in order to communicate effectively. There had been no time to call on the Shadowed Order—and it likely wasn’t necessary, either.

Three dragons could easily take down a dozen men.

There was no need for a battalion.

The wind thrashed against us as we soared over Thornveil, the air current hindering our progress. I had to beat my wings harder and faster to keep altitude where I typically could allow the airstream to take me, easing the brunt of the work.

A quick glance to my left and right told me that Emrys was right on my tail, Valerian struggling to keep up. We were all accustomed to flying distances, but Valerian didn’t have the same speed. The same stamina. His small, copper dragon form was not as powerful as ours. Not as agile. He needed to train more.

He swished his arrowhead tail in agitation.

I hadn’t meant to send the thought down the bond, but it was like that sometimes. When we were in our dragon forms, we weren’t only in our own heads. We were in each other’s.

Emrys groaned as I turned back, focusing my attention on Southgate. With my enhanced vision, I could see it now: the small coastal town visible beneath the thick cloud cover. The air was filled with the taste of an approaching storm. Another few hours and we would have been battling the rain and the lightning as we journeyed south.

Your scouts saw how many men? I asked Emrys down the bond.

He cut a sidelong glance toward me as he pulled up next to me, his crimson wings too close for comfort. Emrys always wanted to test my limits.

Damn him.

Thirteen men, not including Vash. He replied.

And you’re certain Vash didn’t bring these men back as prisoners? I asked.

I can’t be certain of anything without having seen it myself, but the scout said the men were not in chains. They were heavily disguised in a tavern—having just made the crossing. Smart of him not to come straight through Scaldrithor if his allegiance truly has changed, Emrys replied.

That earned my grunt of approval.

Vash’s reputation was notorious in Scaldrithor. It’s true—it didn’t make sense for him to journey further south only to land on Gothryn soil if his aim was to reconvene with us at the castle. He certainly went out of his way for a reason.

And you trust this scout? I asked down the bond.

Just because he isn’t yours doesn’t make him duplicitous. I have my own spies, Sorin. I, too, am a prince of Blackwater. Or has your arrogance allowed you to forget?

Enough! I roared loudly enough through his mind that he flinched back, his crimson wings disappearing from sight for a moment as he fought to regain his composure. You will not speak to me that way!

Or what, Brother? I could hear the sinister edge despite the words not being spoken aloud.

I didn’t have time for this right now. I would put Emrys in his place once the threat in Southgate had been neutralized. I glared at him as my only warning. I curled my taloned claws in preparation as I dove toward him, my horns knocking against his. I was bigger than him in this form. More formidable. He was a fool to threaten me when my anger was already tightly wound and barely leashed.

His scaled body plunged beneath the weight of my hit, a cry escaping his throat as he dropped in altitude.

I will hear no more of it until we return from Southgate, I said.

Valerian remained quiet behind us. He knew better than to insert himself into our conflict. The last century by our sides had taught him that much.

Southgate drew closer as the winds churned, clouds growing dense and dark as they collected water droplets. The storm was building faster than I had anticipated. I stilled my wings, allowing my body to drop beneath the cloud cover as the density in the air thickened.