Page 44 of Three Dark Kings and the Gilded Serpent

Dragging deep breaths, I push myself upright as the final weight of ice flows off me.

The buzzing in my ears clears.

Northward, in the direction my feet are pointed, snowstorms continue to rage, a blanket of white covering the border and seemingly everywhere north of it, but behind me, surprising warmth beckons, an amber glow growing stronger.

It feels like…

My heart leaps into my throat as I struggle upright, managing to make it to my knees so I can turn into the warmth.

A line of Ember women stands in the freezing cold behind me. Their bare hands are outstretched while their bodies are fully covered from their necks to their feet in silks that whip around their forms.

Heat waves ripple from their hands.

They’ve formed a heat chain, a combining of their quiet fire that is most powerful when performed by a group of Ember women.

At their center is my sister. To her right is my aunt. On either side of them are the sixteen women of my father’s harem, one of whom is my mother. I don’t know which one she is. Only the women in the harem know her identity and none of them would tell me when I asked.

Because of that, I bestowed on all of them the title of Mother to the King, collectively the Mothers, and gave them all the security that my biological mother would have.

“Brother.” My sister’s voice reaches me like a whisper, although, judging by the way her mouth moves when she speaks, she’s shouting to be heard. “Are you okay?”

I’m completely naked, kneeling away from the women and twisting at the waist to maintain some dignity.

Every one of these women is risking her life for me right now. The snowstorm could form another avalanche, let alone freeze them to death if their heat chain fails. The sandy snowflakes swirling through the air are as sharp as knives—already several women bear cuts across their arms, their silken clothing torn in places. Worst of all, they’re standing close enough to me that a single outburst of my flames would turn them to ash.

I never expected this.

Am I okay?

My voice chokes in my throat before I can answer.

“Brother!” Zenaida dares close the gap between us as she demands a response.

I give her a nod, trying to process the unfamiliar emotions I’m experiencing. Gratitude. Hope.

Yet what comes out of my mouth is born from resurging fear. “You shouldn’t be here! You could be killed.”

She stops in her tracks, but her smile is instant.

“He’s okay!” she shouts back to the other women.

I should be focusing on steadying myself, making sure my bones are healed, but I take a moment to search the women’s faces, seeking one for whom my life might mean more. Any sign that might reveal who gave me life.

Their expressions are all impassable.

It seems that, even now, their years serving my father have given them the ability to mask every emotion they might be feeling.

“Clothe yourself,” my sister says, carefully picking her path along the uneven ground, choosing the flatter mounds of cold lava that poke up through the freezing water before she chooses one on which to stand and throws me a wadded-up pair of fire-resistant pants.

I catch the clothing before the wind can snatch the pants away.

Turning my back, I quickly pull on the garment, only to once again face the snowstorm being kept at bay by the heat chain.

My shoulders slump.

I survived the pulse of energy and then the avalanche. Maybe stopped both. But I haven’t done a fucking thing to stop whatever’s causing this storm.

Zenaida reaches my side. Like Kaiba, she is brave to choose to stand in my presence. “The smoke started coming into the city.”