Page 138 of Merciless Is My Crown

Tavion shoved a path through the crowd, and we arrived outside in time to see the enormous black dragon swoop out of the clouds, dark membranous wings stretching the length of ten horse carts. If I squinted, I could make out the slender form clinging to his back and the tiny speck flying alongside them.

I frowned. No sign of Tristan.

“Do you see him anywhere?” Tavion muttered beside me. “He should be here by now.”

“No, and I’ve been looking.” I scanned the crowd again. “Tristan has to be here somewhere; it’s been an hour since the explosion.” I handed my iron bands over to Tavion and shadows spilled like a dark, stormy ocean at our feet, sending the crowd skittering back. Sophie remained close, her eyes wary but curious, too.

“He’s probably hiding because he fucked up and almost got us killed,” Raz muttered.

“Go look for him, Tavion,” I muttered for the tenth time. “Trust me, no one is going to lay a finger on me. Not now.”

Indeed, the Fae kept their distance, pointing and whispering but respectfully cautious. Word of the king’s death had spread like wildfire, and that Zorander Vayle, the king’s former commander, was now in charge of the Keep, and soon, the entire Solarys army.

“I’m not leaving you alone and Tristan can take care of himself.” Tavion’s grin turned slightly evil. “Besides, I wouldn’t miss this for the world.” He pointed at the sky, cupping his hands around his mouth and shouting, “A dragon is coming. Give him room to land.”

“Tavion,” I muttered reprovingly as the crowd both craned their necks and tried to scramble away in all directions, kicking up a cloud of choking dust. “Seriously? That wasn’t what we planned.”

“This is going to be fucking legendary.” His green eyes were alight with anticipation. “Blackcastle will talk about this day for centuries.”

“I’d rather they didn’t.” I shifted uncomfortably. “I’d rather everyone go about their lives and forget about today all together.”

“If you really wanted that, you wouldn’t have agreed to Zeph landing in broad daylight in his dragon form. We should have had Tristan here as his wyvern. They wouldn’t have known what to do.” Tavion sounded positively giddy.

“You know a wyvern, too?” Sophie asked, shading her eyes, her gaze fixed on the sky.

“A golden one. He breathes fire. I’m telling you, today is the kind of day that goes down in the history books.”

“You are impossible.” I squinted as Zephryn circled above us, the light illuminating every bone in his immense wings. Despite everything, I couldn’t stop my surge of excitement at the utter grandeur of an enormous dragon soaring above us, neck and tail stretched out as he swooped down over the crowd, everyone ducking low.

I counted every scale on Zephryn’s belly as they passed overhead, Torin’s grin turning incandescent when they blew past us, the air ripping her hair free.

“He really is something, isn’t he?” I murmured, standing back up to watch him bank and come around for a landing, the crowd fleeing.

“He really fucking is.” There was enough jealousy in Tavion’s voice I ran my hand up his arm.

“I’ll take my wolf any day of the week, just so you know.”

“Nice of you to say, wife, but gods…” Tavion blew out a long, appreciative whistle when Zephryn flapped those wings as he came in for his landing, engulfing us in a choking cloud of dust. “Fucking look at that monster.”

Then I was wrapped up in his arms, sheltered from the choking cloud, my face protected by his cloak. “Do you have dragon envy, husband?” I asked softly, pausing when Tavion’s eyes flared wide.

“Say that again,” he murmured, his lips tracing my cheek.

“Husband?” I asked softly.

“Yes,” he whispered. “Say it again.”

“You are my husband, Tavion. From now until forever.” I leaned into him, the sound of the screaming, panicked throng around us fading away. Time seemed to slow down like we were trapped in this single moment together. “I love you.”

“And I love you, wife.” His chest shuddered from the force of those words, hands tightening on me like he’d never let me go. “From now until forever.”

The only good thing about all the dust was it allowed Zephryn and Simon to pull on trousers before the citizens of Blackcastle got a good look at them, Torin striding over to greet us, that wild grin still on her face.

She looked younger, like she’d left the last three centuries behind her, and before I knew it I’d thrown my arms around her neck. “That was some entrance.”

“You asked us to make an impression. We did our best.”

I surveyed the wide-eyed crowd creeping back, fear and awe painted on their faces. “They’re impressed.”