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I get up and run along the canyon, dodging around boulders, the only thought in my mind is getting help for my mate. I should have insisted we leave the building. Zabriel is in a rut and he needed me, and he got hurt.
Some way off in the distance, I think I hear Esmeral call to me, and I follow the sound.
As I run toward the dragongrounds, I’m suddenly enveloped in darkness. It drops over me like a heavy velvet cloak. I slow to a halt, staring around me with wide eyes. I can’t see a thing, and the only sound is my ragged breathing.
Another vision? Now? I don’t want this when Zabriel needs me. I blink and shake my head like I’ve got water stuck in my ear canal, hoping to clear my mind.
When I open my eyes, something is just visible across the ocean of darkness. A figure is walking toward me. A tall, familiar figure with long, dark hair, a strong jaw, and captivating eyes. His clothing is like nothing I’ve ever seen him wear before, but I’m too distracted by the strangeness of seeing him so suddenly.
My heart is in my mouth. “Zabriel? Is that you?”
The tall, muscular man stops before me and studies me with sad eyes. “Do you not know your mate?”
Fear seizes me. “Of course, but you’re not dead, are you? I just left you with Scourge.”
“I just wanted to see you one last time.” He smiles crookedly at me, a smile filled with sadness. For a moment he holds his breath, and then lets it out in a great rush and shakes his head. “That will have to be enough. I wish…”
He sighs and turns away, and the darkness begins to fold over him.
I reach for him, a sob rising in my chest. “Wait. What do you mean one last time? Please don’t die. The burns…”
“I’m not dead.” He glances over his shoulder at me. “Not yet.”
Those two words fill me with desolation. “You’re going to be fine. I’m going to fetch theHratha’len. You can’t die from burns. You’re the Flame King.” My voice cracks and tears spill down my cheeks.
“You’re right. Burns won’t finish me off. I won’t die today.”
Fear is revolving in my chest. “Meaning you are going to die? What are you not telling me?”
He turns back to me with a soft, sad smile. “You’re falling in love with him, aren’t you? That means I’m too late. I don’t blame you for this, Isavelle. I blame myself. I fought my way through to you once for a few seconds and then I couldn’t again until just now.”
If this is Zabriel, then why is he talking about himself as another person? Why does he look like he’s another person? Now that I look closer, his eyes are blue gray. His hair is dark brown.
I press my lips together and shake my head. If my other vision about my family was false, then this one might be a trick as well. “I don’t believe that you’re real.”
The man gives a short, humorless laugh. “Well, you’re right, in a way. Can you guess why I look like this?”
“This is how you looked before you bonded with Scourge. How I saw you all those weeks ago.” Visions aren’t supposed to look back at me or talk back to me. If this isn’t a vision, then what’s happening?
“I knew you were clever.” His mouth quirks in a smile, but then the smile vanishes, and his expression grows bleak. “I’m not going to survive, Isavelle. Being the Flame King is a target on my back. I wanted to see you one last time with my own eyes. Not Scourge’s eyes. I don’t think I’ll be strong enough to return to you ever again, so this is goodbye.” He gives me one long, final look, and then turns away, his head bowed.
I don’t understand what’s happening, but seeing my mate walk away from me is the most distressing thing I’ve ever seen. Losing Zabriel would rip my heart out. “Don’t say that. We all need you.Ineed you. You told me that you want to be the best king you can be, and I won’t believe that you’re just going to give up.”
The man stops and glances at me over his shoulder. “I’m not the Flame King. This is me speaking to you as Zabriel. Purely Zabriel. Only Zabriel.” He hesitates and turns toward me. “Am I not enough for you like this? Is it him you really want?”
“Him who?”
“The Flame King. Scourge. The Alpha and his dragon. Look.” He pulls the corner of his mouth back from his teeth and runs his tongue over them. He has no dragines.
I shake my head, confused. Zabriel is the Flame King, and he and Scourge are intertwined. I’m not choosing. Those two are meant for each other, as I am meant for Zabriel.
“Being Maledinni is a gift and a curse, and so is being the Flame King,” the man explains. “You mean so much to me. The real me. I can’t help but wish that I could be just a man and you could be my bride. You’ve wished for the same thing. I know you have.”
Do you remember when I was Isavelle, the village girl, and you were Commander Zabriel, a soldier who rides a dragon?
I nibble on my lower lip, watching the man. His expression is so sad. So lost. He has the air of a man who has given up. Almost.
“Have you ever wondered why you saw me when you were fleeing from the Flame King?” the man asks softly.
