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I roar, shaking him off me. He’s a persistent fucker though and tries to swipe at me. His talons scratch across my scales, not even breaking the skin. I snap my jaws at him, backing him up before I lunge.
My teeth sink into his legs and blood fills my mouth. I shake my jaw, tearing chunks from his leg until it’s completely mauled. “You’ll pay for that,” he hisses.
Soon we are a blur of teeth, fire, and talons. I feel each time he gets a hit on me; at this close range, there is no missing. Each hit is meant to hurt or kill. Nothing is holding Aeron back. A crazed look gleams in his eyes and I no longer recognize the dragon who has been my advisor since I became king all those years ago.
My father had warned me Aeron was hot-tempered, I just never believed him until it was too late.
Aeron’s jaw comes close to my throat. Too close for comfort. But he’s getting sloppy. He no longer has the endurance of a young dragon and with the amount of blood he’s losing…well, it’s only a matter of time before he makes a mistake.
I could be merciful and let the older dragon live. Imprison and rehabilitate him. Let him prove his worth in society.
But he hurt my mate.
The dragon has to die.
“This could have been different, Aeron. We could have been a ferocious team.” I’m surprised to feel a pang of sadness at my words. It’s true. Aeron is a powerful dragon, but he lets his greed and selfishness color his decisions. I agreed with him on many goals, just not the approach.
Things could have been so different.
“The kingdom will fall in your hands. You useless, piece of?—”
I’ll never know what he would have called me, though I can guess. I take advantage of his distraction and lunge straight for the jugular. Dragons are built for endurance and killing one is extremely hard, but no one can live with their throat ripped out.
Blood gushes from the open wound and Aeron’s eyes widen. He honestly hadn’t expected to lose. To die when he had gotten this far.
“May the goddess take pity on your soul, traveler,” I murmur. Aeron opens his mouth, but nothing comes out except a trickle of blood. I watch as the light leaves my advisor's eyes and he sags against me.
I dump his body unceremoniously onto the floor. His last shift takes place and soon the great dragon is reduced to nothing more than an older man. Naked with his throat ripped out. His unseeing eyes remain open.
It’s done.
“Wife. Come to me.” I speak silently through the bond only Rose and I share, testing out its limits now.
Soft footfalls work their way around Aracelia until I see the entirety of my wife. She’s ghostly pale and looks like a strong gust of wind could blow her over. There are dark circles under her puffy, red eyes.
My eyes trail down her body. Not in a sexual way, but I take in every injury on her. The one that disturbs me the most is the almost healed busted lip and the slight purplish color to one of her cheeks.
If Aeron wasn’t already dead, I’d kill him again for touching her.
“Come,” I repeat.
I barely have the chance to shift back before Rose runs toward me, throwing her arms around my neck, and sobs into my bloody shirt.
Chapter 29
Rose
Ifeel like I could close my eyes and never wake up, but the nightmares of the last week plague my every thought. My body sags against Malix in relief and I dissolve into a puddle of tears and hysterics. “Mina! She’s?—"
“Hurt, but fine. Vivia is taking care of her.” Malix has no reason to lie to me, but I don’t quite believe him. I witnessed firsthand the abuse Mina was put through at my expense. I heard the sickening slash into meaty skin and her cries of pain as I ran away like a coward.
“I need to see her. I need to make sure she’s okay.” I’m fixating on this one thing. It’s so much easier to take in one major problem at a time than take the entirety of my situation in. Even now my body trembles and threatens to war against itself if I allow myself to be pulled into the dark place that’s begging to drag me down.
“Please, we have to go. We have to help her. We have to?—"
“Rose.” Malix reaches out to steady me before I can delve further into the hysterics bubbling inside of me. My emotions are a jar with a lid threatening to burst, ready to spill out at a moment’s notice.
“Everything is going to be okay,” Malix soothes, rubbing my arms to calm me. I want to argue that no, everything is not okay. In fact, everything is the opposite of okay.
