Page 27 of Only Flames Remain

“It will be a work indenture. A contract. You can buy out your contract or work it off. In your case, you will work it off.” She glanced over her shoulder, leaning closer with a hushed voice. “Until the prince is dead, of course.”

My glare felt as though it might sear right through her.

“I’m sorry, Aveline. I know this isn’t ideal, but neither is anything else about this situation.”

“You’re telling me,” I scoffed. “This is a godsdamn nightmare.”

“Maybe you can pray to Firanor for some luck?” she suggested.

“You heard those women last night,” I said, swallowing hard. “The age of the gods is long over. The old gods have forsaken us. There is no point in any of it anymore.”

“Are you saying you don’t pray anymore?” she asked, a brow raised in my direction.

Her tone had grown uncharacteristically serious. She knew that I still prayed. Each morning and each night. Every solstice. Every time I needed a little luck or a little guidance. I’m not sure it did any good. But still, I prayed. What was this realm if there wasn’t something greater out there? What were we all here for? She might not believe, but I did. My mother did.

“Land ho! We approach Gothryn! Make ready!”

The shouts of the deck crew drowned out everything else, including my own thoughts. I stood, brushing the dirt—or rather—mud off my borrowed trousers to no avail. We needed to go down below and gather our things to prepare to disembark.

Despite what I said to Enora earlier, I sent a silent prayer up to Firanor for luck and Orrithan for guidance. Maybe if I had prayed more to Inachus, the sea god, I wouldn’t have been so astronomically ill this entire journey.

The thought had a gentle laugh bubbling to my lips.

Before disappearing down below to prepare for docking, I took one long look at the mountains that materialized through the cloud cover in the distance. I could make out a grand castle from here, its obsidian spires reaching up into the endless azure sky. I couldn’t explain it, but something about the construction and architecture of it reminded me of a dragon. I wondered if the castle had been built before the reign of the Blackwater bloodline, or after.

Scaldrithor crystalized beneath my gaze as we sailed closer. It reminded me so much of Majur that it sent a pang through my chest. The docks weren’t too far off, bustling with trade and merchant vessels. The Wraithwood mountains could be seen beyond if you focused your sight, so high reaching that the tips were capped with snow as they stretched into the clouds.

I had expected the Vireth to live vastly different from the Veytari. I was surprised to find that their kingdom appeared to be thriving from this distance. The streets were cleaner, the architecture more sophisticated. There were no beggars on every street corner, no pick pockets weaving through the marketplace searching for their next unsuspecting victim. The same strife that had taken root in Myros did not impact Gothryn, it appeared.

Or Scaldrithor, at the very least.

As my gaze turned toward where Enora and Quinnick had disappeared, something caught my eye in the distance. I turned back just as quickly, but the fleeting image was already gone.

Had I imagined it? I could have sworn he was right there, clear as day.

A tall, handsome stranger. Standing on the dock.

A long, gilded sword tight in his grip. Black, scaled wings unfolded at his back and flapped against the thrashing gales as inky hair beat against the wind to cover his eyes.

They hadn’t been just any shifter wings.

They were the wings of a dragon.

CHAPTER 9

Sorin

The ship destined for Scaldrithor with the load of weaponry from Faedwyn never arrived. I had waited down by the docks all afternoon for sight of the vessel, but none ever came.

Too angry to storm back into castle Gothryn, I sprouted my wings, taking to the skies to scour the Saltale Sea for an incoming ship. I wanted to give them the benefit of the doubt—maybe they were simply behind schedule.

But the only inbound vessel was one full of humans sent from Myros. A gift to mollify us and hopefully foster a tentative peace between our two kingdoms once more. We had plenty of humans…but we accepted the offering anyway.

There was no such thing as too much blood. Especially when we needed to keep up our strength and reserves. Frustrated, I flew back toward the castle. I detoured south to fly over Southgate and castle Stormgaard as the sun descended over the horizon, casting Gothryn’s skyline in tangerine-colored hues.

I missed Stormgaard.

It had been months since my father had called me back to castle Gothryn to train by his side. I yearned to return home. That’s what Stormgaard was to me.