Page 28 of Only Flames Remain

Home.

Over a century ago I had constructed the Gothic castle, a lone apparition hidden among the ebony cliffs that curved around it. It was the solitary edifice that occupied the small island, taking up almost all the available land above the crashing waves below the steep cliffs. Stormgaard was an island a few miles beyond Southgate—easily accessible if you were a shifter and had wings, but private enough to escape court.

The politics of court had never been my forte, and I desired a place all to myself. There was no one there to whisper in my ear. No one to hold my questionable parentage over me. No one to breathe incessantly down my neck and criticize my every movement.

I gazed down at the empty castle from my place in the sky, mournful of the blissful few weeks I had spent there before receiving news of King Mavros’s decline. I doubted I would be able to return any time soon, but I would wish for it anyway.

I turned east, doubling back toward the Gothryn palace. By the time I set foot on the railing to my balcony, the sun had set. Gothryn was enveloped in an eerie, moonless dark.

I cast my gaze skyward and a soft smile turned up the corners of my lips.

I loved a moonless night.

The stars were on full display, twinkling brightly overhead. I might have to sleep outside tonight—it was too beautiful of a night to squander. The night air was cool against my skin, lifting tendrils of hair off my face as I released an exhausted exhale.

I pushed the double doors to my rooms inward and was surprised to find Rensford there, a book in his hands as he leaned back in his chair. His booted feet were kicked up on the slip-covered ottoman. I narrowed my eyes at him as I moved toward him, kicking the ottoman out from beneath him. His legs fell to the ground with a frustrated huff.

“Not only do you invade my rooms, but you don’t even have the decency to take your shoes off?” I asked, turning toward the washroom as I scrubbed a hand through my hair.

“I have news,” was his only reply, his voice strained.

My interest piqued and I turned back, mouth parted. I noticed he had also pushed the delicate decanter aside to place his book atop the table beside him. A whisper of anger sizzled up my spine. I wanted everything in my chambers to be just so. I spent hours meticulously organizing my things. I knew the exact way I had left them. I eyed the decanter before marching forward to pour myself a drink.

I offered Ren the second glass, but he declined, shaking his head. He ran a hand down his own face, his dark skin taking on a tawny glow beneath the flickering lantern light.

“As your oldest friend, am I allowed to say I am worried about you?”

I cocked an eyebrow at him. “Are you worried about me, Ren?”

I took a generous sip, the liquor burning its way down my throat.

“Yes,” he admitted, crossing his muscled arms over his chest. “It has been days since you have taken a feeder. You have been meeting with your father daily—which is stressful enough as it is. Then there’s Emrys, breathing down your neck about the crown being rightfully his. Not to mention the curse has taken root deeper than I’ve ever seen before. Azhar is concerned it has moved to your arm. It’s spreading. You are having trouble focusing. Trouble shifting. I’ve never seen you so—”

“Weak?” I asked, grinning wide enough to show my sharpened teeth. “Thanks for the reminder—but I can handle it.”

I took another sip.

“Can you?” he asked, rising to his feet to stand before me. He wasn’t nearly as tall as I was, but where I was lean muscle, he was pure strength. He more than made up for the fact that he wasn’t a dragon shifter with hours and hours in the training yard, cultivating impressive muscle. “You don’t need to carry this weight on your own. If there is anything I can do to help…”

“There isn’t,” I replied sharply. “I appreciate you Ren, I really do. But I have it under control.”

He was thoughtful for a long moment, wondering if he should push me or not. He came to the right conclusion, my anger already simmering beneath the surface. Ire rose within, quick as the turning tide. It drew back out into the ocean depths just as swiftly.

“If you’re sure…” he replied, his tone unconvinced as he watched me.

“I’m sure.” I sat in the chair he had vacated, kicking my own booted feet up onto the ottoman. His eyes flashed, mouth tight. I scoffed. “It’s my ottoman.”

He shook his head at me. “Are you interested in the news I’ve waited alone, in your chambers, for hours to bring?”

“Nobody said you had to wait alone.” I winked.

Down went another sip.

Ren eyed the glass as if he wanted to smash it out of my hand. It was one of the few vices I had left to keep myself in control.

“Where were you?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

I sucked air through my teeth and chided him. “Did you forget about our meeting with Faedwyn? Too preoccupied yourself? Should I be the one who is worried?”