Page 31 of Three Dark Kings and the Gilded Serpent

I cry out as the band cuts into my skin, but within my ears are other screams.

I hear Stellen’s Voice. A song of destruction that coats my tongue with the taste of death and the unending need for revenge. I feel his frost, every sharp bite lashing through my mind and body, echoes of vengeance taken.

I hear cries for mercy. So many screams, and I can’t close my ears to them.

This bloodied band holds his deepest pain.

And his worst brutality.

All the horror he put away so he wouldn’t hurt another innocent fae.

Now I’ve freed that fury.

I should be afraid. I should be in pain. This band has closed around my wrist like it wants to sever my hand from my body—would sever my limb if it weren’t for the Dragonstone Blade embedded in that arm.

But I’m not afraid.

Within my mind, above the roaring storm engulfing the landscape, I remember so clearly the Iron King’s admonition.

You always risk this hand.

His voice had ground from his lips as if he were gritting his teeth beneath his helmet. He told me I would never dare to touch his face with this hand if I knew anything about him.

And Stellen, when I was drained of blood and dying in his arms, told me that my voice may be small and my hands may be weak, but even a whisper from me would carry the power we needed to survive.

I hunch over him, my heart hurting and chaos building around me while he lies here, unmoved by the tempest. Unmoved by my grief.

Every part of his body untouched by the wind tearing at the air, a wind that screams like his heart must have screamed when everything he loved was taken from him.

Whoomph-whoomph.

“Stellen!” I scream as my right fist burns with ice and my body shakes. “Don’t you dare.”

Sobs tear from me as I push myself closer, a roar growing in my chest. “Don’t you dare leave me!”

I reach for his face with my left hand, tangling my fingers in his hair while the storm howls and the snowflakes grow sharper, striking at my back like knives.

“Stellen!” I scream. “Don’t you fucking dare!”

Chaos crushes my heart. I’ve fought too hard. I’ve given up too much already. Stellen has given up too much already.

Whoomph.

My fist collides with Stellen’s chest. “Don’t you dare give up!”

The ribbon’s power thumps outward, pounding through Stellen’s chest, jarring his body.

“You’re breaking my heart, Stellen Nas’Lethian.”

My sobs pull at the air, my voice colliding with the next whoomph of power.

A violent, savage roar fills the air around me, the wind collecting my voice and echoing it back at me, sending my heart spiraling.

Pounding. Thumping.

Whoomph-whoomph.

Icy energy shoots along my arm, striking from my fist to the tip of the Dragonstone Blade at the crease of my elbow. And then it ripples backward, toward my fist.