Page 53 of Only Flames Remain

“What did you call her?” His voice was strained, twisted with barely contained fury.

The sound of his voice was lethal. I never wanted to be on the other end of that wrath.

Wings stirred the air, and I glanced over my shoulder once. I glimpsed the black, leather wings of the prince. They spread outward and outward, knocking over tables and Vireth alike as they began to flee the tavern.

“Aveline, let’s go!”

With one last glance, Enora pulled me through the open doorway as screams erupted behind us.

CHAPTER 16

Sorin

It had been a long time since I had incited a bar fight. And over a woman, no less. Valerian was all too obliged to join in when he heard the first punch thrown. The man who had been harassing Aveline fell before me, his cheek red and likely broken where my fist had connected.

I would teach him a lesson for speaking about a woman with such a vulgar tongue. Teach him a lesson for daring to question the crown prince. If I were to ascend the throne, I needed to demand respect and accept nothing less. He was too drunk to mind his tongue, but I would leave him with a reminder he would never forget.

The man was bewildered as I brought the chair down, cracking it over his head. He was knocked out instantly. Valerian hollered behind me and I turned to aid with dispelling the others.

What in the seven hells had possessed Aveline to come into this tavern? The crowd was beyond rowdy.

The strain of recent political events was still tangible in the air. The citizens of Gothryn had been sheltered from war for many years, but the truce with Myros was on the precipice of breaking, and everyone could feel it.

All I could think as my fist connected with another jaw was that, not unlike this fight, the war with Myros had all started over a woman…many centuries ago. Back, even before King Mavros’s grandfather had taken the throne. Myros and Gothryn had arranged a political marriage between our two kingdoms. The bride sailed from Myros, across the Saltale Sea, to marry the Gothryn prince. Only…she never arrived. She was thrown from the vessel during a volatile storm, succumbing to the tumultuous waves and drowning.

Myros claimed she was murdered by dragon fire. They claimed intentional sabotage of the alliance. Gothryn claimed it was a divine punishment from the old gods for aligning with the Veytari in the first place.

The war between us had lingered ever since.

I laughed to myself as another man was knocked out at the end of my curled fist. The tavern had devolved into utter chaos at this point, people screaming and sprinting in every direction. Drinks and blood were being spilled about, shouts and cries filling the air.

The Veytari woman had taken direction well and had gotten Aveline out quickly before the situation deteriorated.

One Vireth thought to jump onto my back but was easily shaken off with one quick snap of my powerful wings. I could hear Valerian laughing at my back, having one hell of a time. I’m sure he was glad he decided to join me tonight.

Another Vireth ran straight into my fist, or at least, it felt that way.

It was almost too easy.

I dispatched the last without so much as a scratch on me, Valerian joining me to clap me on the back.

Unconscious bodies were strewn around us. Half of the tables in the tavern had been broken, bottles littering the floor and a gouge taken out of the wooden bar somehow. I made a mental note to dip into our coffers to pay the owner of the establishment for the repairs.

“It’s been a long time since we’ve had this much fun together, Brother.” Valerian’s answering smile revealed his white teeth, coated in blood from a split lip.

I shook my head, a hint of a smile creasing the corner of my mouth.

I turned my face away before Valerian could see. I needed to set a good example for my youngest brother, and starting an all-out brawl was the exact opposite of that.

I hadn’t been able to control my anger when I had seen that man touching Aveline against her will. Valerian and I had followed her and the Veytari she was traveling with into the bar, the hoods of our cloaks up to keep our identities hidden. We were barely two sips into our ale before I tasted the tension in the air, only to see that man’s hand grazing Aveline’s backside. One moment she had been sitting in the booth peacefully drinking her own ale, and the next she was pressed up against him—her delicate arm bruising in his grip.

Even if it hadn’t been Aveline, I would have stepped in.

No man should ever lay hands on a woman against her will. He was the lowest form of coward and was punished as such. I should have thrown him in the dungeons, but a broken jaw would surely make him think twice next time.

I wasn’t sure what it was about her…but she drew something primal out of me. Despite finding poisons in her room earlier—which I had yet to tell anyone about—I felt the urge to protect her.

I had only just met her, but I couldn’t stop thinking about her.