Page 95 of Three Dark Kings and the Gilded Serpent

My skin prickles. All over.

A groan of pain sends my Lethian armor into a frenzy, the threads streaming across my skin, swirling and sliding, as if it’s rearranging itself, but I can’t be sure into what because I can’t even open my eyes to slits now.

A second later, the light grows even brighter, beyond unbearable, and I cry, “Stop! Serpent! I can’t go closer.”

The light is burning me. Scorching across my face and neck and arms and⁠—

My right arm most of all.

The serpent jolts at my cry, veering sharply to the right, and I experience a moment of relief as he turns away from the light source, whatever it is. Only for a new cry to tear from my lips.

Sharp pain cuts along my right arm like a knife slicing open my flesh.

My arm yanks forward against my will, stretching back toward the light, forcing me to twist at the waist.

For a heartbeat, something about this feels familiar.

Another encounter with silvery light just like this… After Antony sank his fangs into my neck and Stellen carried me through the tunnel in the bloodlands, I was slipping in and out of consciousness, but I remember my arm had risen.

Drawn to that light.

A gentle pull.

Nothing like this.

Dark light explodes around me. I don’t know where it came from or why it’s happening or how to escape it.

A second later, I’m wrenched from the serpent’s back, yanked back into the brightness, my right arm outstretched and the pull on my body so intense, I fear I’ll be torn apart.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Antony

I’m going to make Hadrian hurt.

For what he’s done to my family, and that includes Thyra.

I soar along the charcoal cliffs and to the Ember border.

Earlier, I caught sight of Azul heading in the same direction as me but flying farther inland. I’m certain he’ll steer clear of the border towers, where explosions indicate the Ember and Iron Fae are locked in battle.

It took me hours to reach this point even at full speed and my mind hasn’t stopped churning with everything Victor told me.

Most importantly, I’m flying into this battle with my brother’s blessing. What I’m about to do might help the Ember Fae, but I’ll also make Hadrian pay.

Behind me, artificial starlight gleams across the Iron Kingdom while ahead of me, the natural moonlight is obscured in thick plumes of black smoke quickly cut through with blasts of frost.

I don’t intend to make my presence known, keeping to the shadows as I proceed carefully toward the center of the battle where Hadrian has concentrated his weapons.

No doubt, he’s determined to cut a wedge into the Ember Kingdom, especially at nighttime when his army won’t be exposed to the heat.

So far, Stellen’s repelling the smoke, but Hadrian’s oil and iron supplies are deep.

My grin fades. Hadrian’s playing the long game. Losing for now, but the goal will be to wear Stellen down.

Judging by the waning strength of the next explosion of ice, Stellen won’t be able to fight much longer. Not that the Ember Fae aren’t working well with him. Where Stellen isn’t, the Ember warriors are.

I reach the chaos, approaching the back of the Iron Army. In the sky up ahead, a group of Ember Fae on golden serpents have driven a legion of eagle riders back across the border into Iron airspace, near to the line of catapults. It would make sense to try to explode the bombs before they can launch, but the waiting canisters are encased in a shield that protects them from aerial attack.