Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 69119 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 346(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69119 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 346(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
She made it sound so easy. “I’m tired of hearing Lockes scream.” That, and oh, how I hated my weakness. The total loss of control. The inability to stop, think or resist the compulsion to test a man who would never survive my fire. The way each man peered at me before he died, as if I were some kind of eternal flame able to right every wrong.
They’d stopped seeing me as a monster ages ago. Now, I was their last chance at survival.
Rejecting guilt wasn’t an option. But ja. My sister was right. I would still go to Professor Locke. The need strengthened with every minute that passed.
“I mean it,” my sister said. “No guilt. We’ve got more important matters to attend to. Elite warriors are vanishing without a trace, and our father has returned from the dead, as if he is dragonkind’s fabled phoenix, destined to rule us forevermore. But that can’t be right because the legend claims the phoenix is pure of heart, and that doesn’t describe our illustrious father in the slightest.”
My fingers balled into fists. Leopold should have been our phoenix. But nein. Fate had to choose a psychopath. “I once sheared our father’s head from his body, yet he’s now restrained in our dungeon, alive and well. How could he not be the phoenix?”
I mean, legends got things wrong all the time. King Cedric wasn’t just un-pure of heart; he hadn’t died in ash, the other specification. And yet, his head had reattached itself. Not a feat a regular dragon-berserker could perform.
On the other hand, it might have nothing to do with him and everything to do with the goddess who’d restored him, along with eight other primordials once thought long lost.
“Maybe he’s the phoenix, maybe he isn’t. Either way, he’s still a problem,” Adelaide said. “The royal council believes father cannot be killed—by you. Some whisper of removing you from power so they can end him.”
“As if they can.” Since his capture, I’d personally stabbed, mauled and burned him.
“Nothing takes.”
My sister nodded. “Well, something needs to be done, or the whispers will grow into a roar.”
A problem I’d encountered when I’d first taken the crown. Many had challenged me and died for it. “The council has forgotten who they’re dealing with, and what the Drachenveil daughters are capable of.” I drew in a deep breath. “But I’ve heard whispers, too. There’s talk of wedding you off to whoever manages to kill him.”
“Hmm. So I’m to be the ultimate prize, not because I’ve faithfully served as your master-of-arms for two centuries, but because I’m the most exquisite berserkatrix to ever live. Figures.”
“I don’t think your appearance was mentioned,” I replied, trying not to grin. A common effect when in the presence of the ultra-confident bordering on egotistical Adelaide.
“Upp, upp, upp.” She reached out to press a finger against my lips. “My incomparable beauty doesn’t need to be mentioned. It’s always implied.”
I laughed against her finger, then nipped it. “You won’t be marrying anyone but your firebrand, Lady Laid. I swear it.”
“You did not just call me that,” she said, swatting at me. “Since the world’s most perfect woman deserves the world’s most perfect man, and he doesn’t exist, I’m prepared to die a spinster, and you know that.”
I ducked out of the way, commanding, “Convene the council. I’ll deal with the newest Locke and return within the hour for a…chat.”
“Shouldn’t you change before you go?” She waved to indicate my royal dress. “Just in case you fly into an ambush.”
“Ambush smambush. I’m not the one who will be dying today.” I didn’t wait for a response but leaped from the balcony. Smoke unfurled from between my shoulder blades, remained connected to my back and quickly crystalized, hardening into wings with a shiny outer layer.
Wind whipped my hair and gown as I soared through the air.
Up ahead, an entire dragon army stood watch in the sky. Warriors parted, forming a wide path for me, revealing a circle of floating stones. Ten sets of two, each massive monolith carved from star-flecked obsidian and veined with glowing gold that pulsed as if powered by a slow heartbeat. The traveling stones. Doorways to other realms. They hovered effortlessly in the air, swaying ever so slightly on an unseen current.
Wisps of mist coiled between each pair, creating those doorways. I slipped through the desired path, Ashmorra vanishing. As I shot out the other side, icy mountains appeared. Frigid wind blustered, pelting a thousand little needle pricks against my skin. I didn’t let it slow me, tracing my gaze over the rocky, snow-covered terrain. Jagged peaks rose in unforgiving waves. A cloak of white frost covered dense pine forests. Creaks and snaps sounded as tree limbs gave under the weight of the snow. Locke was…
There! The heat inside me cranked to a hard boil. He stood on an ice-white cliff, impossible to miss. Ash and embers, he looked good. Gusts of wind whipped through hair the color of midnight. I’d never seen him in person, only in photos and through the camera feed. I’d been unwilling to get close. Wise of me. Now, my mind drank in his every detail.