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Lykem came running with my frail father in his arms.
I stepped forward, my eyes blinking rapidly as my brain tried to process that it was really him. My dad was alive. After all these years.
There was a second of relief before he looked up at me from where he lay draped in Lykem’s arms. “Did you kill him, Son?”
I nodded just once, and his eyes fluttered closed. “It’s too late then.”
“Too late for what?” I asked firmly, but he didn’t answer. His breathing evened out, and he was unconscious again.
“Too late to save Drago,” a familiar voice sounded from behind me.
I turned to find my grandmother standing there, dressed in a loose, charcoal-colored dress that fell to her ankles.
“You have some fucking nerve showing up here, Estelle,” I spat.
Her eyes rolled. “And you have no clue what you’re talking about. I tried to warn you, but you didn’t listen.”
I stood taller and crossed my arms over my chest. “When the fuck did you try to warn me? Before or after you helped Knox steal my mate?”
My father groaned, causing my attention to turn back to him. “Don’t speak to Nannio that way.”
“You have no clue what she’s done,” I replied roughly as tension consumed my body.
He coughed, spitting up blood in the process. “Yes, I do, and you need her, so whatever you’re angry about, you need to get over it.”
“Why? Knox is dead, and she should be next for helping him.”
My father’s pale body shook. “Your brother’s heart might have stopped beating, but he isn’t dead, Son.”
Estelle stepped closer to our small group, but I made sure to keep distance between us as she spoke. “Darius is right. Knox needed to die by his own blood, and you’ve just helped him become exactly what he needed to be in order to truly destroy Drago. And he won’t stop there. He intends to head for Earth next.”
“What exactly is he?” Dawsyn asked as I stood there consumed with wrath.
My grandmother kept her gaze on me as she answered. “An Ember dragon.”
Son of a bitch.
* * *
