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We had fused before. Merged and became one. Even the memory of our nights together was enough to send heat suffusing my cheeks and racing over my skin.
But not like this. Not in such a final way. Not without my complete and utter lack of consent.
Still, the word “wife” held a secret power over me, eliciting a wellspring of emotions I was struggling to wrap my head around.
I was married. Fucking married to Draven. And the strangest thing of all to me was that he didn't seem the least bit upset. Only vastly amused by it all.
He was right about one thing. Arthur might have married me to anyone he chose. And there would have been little I could have done about it. Was this really so different, a small voice in my head asked? Either way, the marriage had been arranged to solidify a powerful alliance.
An explosion rent the air, unleashing a fiery burst over a section of the palace complex. From our aerial vantage, I looked down to see a scene of pandemonium. Plumes of acrid smoke spiraled upwards, casting an ominous veil over the Court of Umbral Flames.
But I could also see Odessa, strong and firm. Her arms were stretched outwards as she ordered the soldiers around her to release their missiles, again and again. Bolts whizzed from the ramparts, tearing through the wings of the raptor-like mounts and sending some crashing downwards.
“I'd say we're down to a solid forty,” Draven called out.
“Odessa's doing you proud,” I admitted. “Amazing the incredible people you manage to find who are willing to follow you.”
“I'm a born leader. Or so they tell me. But you...” I felt him shift against me. “Daughter of destiny, I believe was the term?”
“Whatever that fucking means. Who even was that? You seemed to... know them.”
Draven was quiet. “You wouldn't believe me if I told you.”
I scowled to myself. “Probably not. Born leader, did you say? More like a born liar.”
Draven chuckled. “You're a force of destiny Morgan Pendragon. Or should I call you Morgan Venator?”
My heart skipped a beat. “Don't you fucking dare.”
A rider cloaked in shadow flew towards us from the front.
“Draven...”
I felt him swivel to see. “You know what to do.” His voice was quiet but confident.
I swallowed hard. “Right.”
Steeling myself for the imminent clash, I fixed my eyes on the approaching adversary.
My senses heightened. The wind whipped against my face, tugging at my braided hair as I leaned forward, feeling power fill my body.
Flames danced and flickered on my fingertips. I focused my eyes on my gauntlets, as if they were an amulet and not simply sigil-covered armor. Flames snaked towards the Valtain hunter like vengeful serpents.
The bolts of searing heat found their mark, colliding with the rider and its steed.
I watched the two figures fall through the air in silence.
“One more down.”
“Don't sound so excited,” Draven chided. “I might think you're enjoying this.”
“You're mighty cheerful for someone whose sister just ran away to join the enemy,” I snapped. “Aren't you worried about what they'll do to her?”
Draven was quiet for a moment. “That was... unexpected.”
“I'd say so,” I muttered.
“But also... not.”
