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Heart hammering, I pushed against his shoulders to no avail. His grip held hard, his motive sure. He wanted…
“Soulfire,” I whispered, nearly choking on the word.
“Yes.”
I kicked and fought with my arms and legs, the rest of me pinioned against him.
“Be still!” His voice thundered with Morgon dominance. I bowed my back, the torture of defying his will paralyzing me. “Succumb to me, and the pain will go away.”
“No.” I shook my head, frantic.
“You must.” His beastly features contorted to reveal the savage monster he truly was. “If you do not, everyone you know will die.”
Captured in his fiery gaze, I saw the crumpled bodies of Lucius and Jessen in a pool of blood. I saw my parents ripped into pieces on their living room floor. I saw Lucius tossed off the roof of a high-rise with broken wings. I saw Kris, Macon, Sorcha, Lorian, Valla, Kieren, Kraven, Conn—all of them—glassy-eyed and lifeless. Finally, across my mind flashed an image of the one I loved most, stretched on a floor, beaten beyond recognition with the cool, void expression of death frozen in place. I didn’t know whether he put those images in my head somehow or whether I conjured them myself. The impact was the same.
I swallowed the lump swelling in my throat. I had no choice.
“Yield to me,” he commanded. His eyes flickered to the medal dangling at the hollow of my neck. “Be what she never was. Be my queen.”
Saint Portia.
Oh, God. This beast, this abomination was…Larkos? It wasn’t possible, and yet I knew it as surely as the stars hung in the sky, as the wind whispered through the trees. Larkos Nightwing, the first Morgon who wiped out all of dragonkind, held me pinioned in his arms, demanding that I be his queen, be what Portia never could.
I could be what she never was. The death of him.
Something had happened between them. Their heartbond wasn’t strong enough. She killed herself in vain, unable to seal his fate as well.
But I could.
I could bond him to me, accept his horrific embrace, his barbaric body, his heartless heart. I could wind him around me in a way where my death would unequivocally equal his. I could kill this beast clutching me in his arms as if I were already his possession.
Kol would never forgive me. But he would live. As would my family and friends.
“Yield,” he growled, tightening his grip on my braid, my scalp pulling in pain.
“Yes.” Pulse pounding a death knell, tears streaming in hot protest, I gave him my consent. “I will be your queen.”
Triumph spread across his face as he lowered his lips to mine, a growl vibrating from his chest. The moment he sealed our mouths, something slammed into us both. We tumbled sideways. I rolled out of his grip to the cold ground.
Kol loomed over the beast, rage vibrating an electric current in the air, sword slashing forward. The king flung his weight upward, knocking Kol to the side, but not before his sword lanced across his shoulder.
He yelled, swiping a sharpened claw through the air, just missing Kol’s face. Ready for him, Kol swung, silver glinting, catching the tip of the beast’s hand.
The creature screamed, clutching his bleeding hand. Three shadows swept into the clearing—Valla, Conn, and Lorian.
The beast’s face contorted into a dark mask before he skyrocketed up into the night, breaking branches of trees as he spun upward. Lorian and Conn trailed in his wake, cracking more branches. Twigs and leaves falling like rain.
Kol flew to my side and scooped me off the forest floor.
“Kieren.” I pointed the way I’d come. “He’s hurt.”
“Bowen and Kraven found him already,” said Valla, gaze fixed on Kol. “You get her out of here.” She vanished into the heavy darkness above.
Clinging tight, I pressed my cheek into the curve of his neck and shoulder, sighing at the instant warmth of my heart, safe in his arms again. But the tightness of his jaw, the steely glance of his gaze, and the iron-clad embrace nearly stopped my breath. He knew what I had nearly done. What I would have done, willingly, had he not come.
We flew under the treetops, not over. I closed my eyes and waited, hoping we didn’t have far to go. Somehow I knew where we’d end up. Sure enough, when he landed and I opened my eyes, we stood within sight of Petrus’s cabin. A square of yellow light glowed in the near distance.
He set me on my feet with a violent jolt, gripping my shoulders, eyes blazing like a madman. I felt his agony, a visceral lash in the air against my skin.
