Page 47 of Empire of Flame and Thorns

Two shifters are standing in the corridor beyond. Thankfully, they were facing each other when I glanced around the corner, so they can’t have seen me. I risk another quick look to determine who they are.

My gaze drifts over two sets of black leather uniforms before I pull back again. Black uniforms. That means that they’re from the Black Dragon Clan. Draven’s clan.

“Lower your voice,” one of them hisses.

“I just don’t know how much more of this I can take,” the other growls back in a voice that is certainly not lowered. “Did you see how he bowed and scraped before them back there?”

An angry breath echoes between the walls. “Yes. And trust me, I despise it as much as you do. Despisehimas much as you do. But you need to keep your voice down. These walls might have ears.”

“I don’t care! It has been two hundred years. Twocenturiesof bowing before the Icehearts and watching Draven degrade our entire clan by behaving like their loyal lapdog. How could he sell us out to those fucking vultures?”

My heart lurches. Draven? They’re talking about Draven? Shock and disbelief pulse through me. I had heard the rumors, of course. But I hadn’t realized just how much his own people despise him.

“I said, lower your voice! You and Draven might have been friends back then, but he’stheircreature now. If he hears you disrespecting him like this, he’ll have your fucking head.”

“Let him try. Fuck, I can’t believe that Azaroth chose him. How could he ever pick someone as corrupt and spineless as Draven fucking Ryat?”

I’m not an expert on dragon shifter culture, but I know that Azaroth is their god. And because only one person in each clan can possess their signature magic at any given time, which also makes that person the clan leader, they believe that Azaroth isthe one who chooses which one of them to pass the magic to. Apparently, they’re not happy that Draven inherited their storm magic when their last leader died.

“You believed in him once too,” the calmer of the two replies. “Remember? You were his best friend.”

“Don’t remind me. If I had known what he would do, that he would willingly make us all subordinates of the Silver Clan just so that he could get the job as the Commander of the Dread Legion, I would have killed him before he even inherited his magic.” He heaves a deep sigh. “I thought… I really thought I knew him.” A bitter laugh rips from his throat. “But apparently, Azaroth isn’t the only one who was fooled by him.”

Resting the back of my head against the cold stone wall, I consider their words. The angry-sounding guy apparently used to be Draven’s best friend. And now, he hates him. All of his people hate him.

I wonder if that affects him. Bothers him in some way.

A scoff threatens to escape my throat, and I have to clamp my mouth shut to stop it.

Of course it doesn’t affect Draven. Someone who sold out his own people doesn’t have those kinds of emotions. If he gave up his whole clan in exchange for the position as the leader of the dragon army, the Dread Legion, then he clearly cares nothing for other people.

“Did you hear that?” the calm one suddenly snaps.

“No.”

“Someone is here.”

Alarm crackles through me.

Pushing off from the wall, I sprint back down the corridor in the direction that I came from.

And when the two dragon shifters round the corner, I’m already gone.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Failure hangs over me like a gloomy cloud, and I find myself scowling as I stomp down the stairs and towards a bathing chamber on a different level. My attempt to spy yesterday yielded no results. And today I’ve been too preoccupied with trying to predict what the next trial will be that I haven’t gotten anything productive done.

My mind churns. It feels as if a swarm of angry bees is trapped inside my skull. Andthatis dangerous. If I’m going to have any chance of making it through the next trial, I need to have a clear head.

The door to the bathing chamber appears at the end of the hall. I glance over my shoulder to make sure that I’m not being followed as I close the final distance to it.

Alistair hasn’t dared to attack me again, but I can feel his threatening stare every time he sees me. And I really don’t want him to mess with me. Not tonight. This is the final evening before the next trial. I need to make sure that when I go to bed, I’m in the right headspace. So instead of using the bathing chamber in my own corridor, which is where Alistair lives too, I decided to sneak down to one on the other side of the south wing in order to get some space to think and breathe and get my headon straight. Because right now, that is something that I sorely need.

The corridor behind me is empty, so I open the door and slip into the bathing chamber.

Warmth and humid air hits me in the face as I step across the threshold and into a short corridor. I move quietly in case there is someone else here. I’m fairly certain that there won’t be, since most of the people who stayed in this corridor have already been eliminated. It was the whole reason why I picked this specific bathing chamber, after all.

Gleaming white faelights cover the pale stone walls as I sneak up to the first doorway on my right and peek inside. Only an empty dressing room meets me there. I pull back and continue towards the actual bath.

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