Page 181 of Vicious Is My Throne

Thank you. For getting me this far.

The reek of rot turned to smoke and fire, bits of burning…stuff floating in the air as Gelvira writhed and howled, hunks of liquidy flesh sloughing off onto the floor. Lightning licked and crackled over her dark form, veins of white illuminating the black, writhing mass pinned against the wall.

Godsdamn it, you were supposed to teach me magic, I scolded. And not that flame bullshite. Real magic.

You would have been a terrible student.

And you were an awful teacher. But…you promised.

Her raspy chuckle echoed through me…and then was gone, leaving echoing silence in its wake.

One last shriek and Gelvira went still, that white light consuming her from the inside out, the pool of black growing at her feet—blood, or something like it.

The stars floating around us flickered out, shadows swirling before they, too, vanished. Overhead, the rock groaned like the world was screaming, and in the darkness overhead, something crashed.

Rock shattered on the floor beside us.

Then a wyvern’s roar preceded the plume of red-tinted fire licking up through the center of the chamber, illuminating everything in horrible relief.

“Get the fuck out of there,” Zorander shouted from the crevice opening. “This entire mountain is about to come down.”

76

ANARIA

Zorander’s shout had barely died away when the ceiling groaned hideously again.

“We have to leave.” Raziel dragged me across the floor, his sweat-slicked palms sliding over my skin.

“We can’t just?—”

“We have to,” Raz said sternly, reading my mind. “We can’t take her with us. It’ll be all we can do to get ourselves off this mountain. We’re still surrounded by miles and miles of blight, still too far from Darkspire for any of us to reach without rest and food and healing.”

“Get your arse moving, Raz,” Zor commanded as more rock fell.

Leaving Sylvi here felt wrong. Like the skulls in the tunnels.

Like the throne in Torin’s room. “But…”

Raz shook me gently. “Anaria, it’s time to go. Tavion’s hurt, remember?” He nudged me toward the opening. “We have to check on him.”

At the mention of my mate’s name, I limped for that crevice and the faint glow of light beyond. I didn’t know how long we’d been in here.

Whether it had been hours or a day.

Only that my body ached with exhaustion, like I’d been sucked dry, down to the marrow.

Tristan was perched on the edge of the small outcropping, spiked tail tucked in tight, wings blocking the blighted wind as Zor led us out of the crevice. I had just enough magic left to throw a barrier around us.

“Let me see him.” Raz crouched beside Tavion and set his palm over his heart, his head bowed for so long I stopped breathing. “He’ll live,” Raz finally muttered, and I sucked in a breath that was too long in coming.

“We have to get off this mountain and across that plain,” Zor told us steadily, even as the ledge trembled beneath us, the only thing between us and a two-thousand-foot fall.

“I can’t fly that far,” Raz admitted. “Not by myself, certainly not carrying anyone.”

We were silent for a moment, peering out over the blight-infested wasteland.

“I’m tapped out. What about you?” Zorander nudged the wyvern, who only folded down his wings.

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