Page 120 of A War of Three Kings

“Scared of a few scales, are you?” Silvan growls as he climbs onto the red dragon.

“Yeah. One of those things almost ate me last time.” Drake points at the sky with his sword, toward a black dragon. It must be Miryth up there.

“That one didn’t like your tongue,” Silvan calls over. “I suggest you keep your mouth shut.”

“Grumpy bastards,” Drake mumbles, and Klara slaps him across the back of the head, giving him a dark look.

Ezekiel huffs beside me, and it sounds a lot like laughter.

“I am doing this,” I growl. “You can do as you like.”

Still clutching Keira’s hand, I race up the golden ridges of Ezekiel’s tail, picking up momentum to take us to his back and carefully skirting around the barbs.

“I will join you on a dragon, Drake, and protect your back.” Klara leads him toward the blue dragon, talking to it in hushed tones to ask permission.

“You’ll probably toss me in its gullet and find a younger husband,” he retorts, and a half-smile curls my lips. He always makes his damned jokes when confronted with an emotion he can’t handle.

Klara whirls on him and curls her fingers into the chest plate of his armor. “If you die here, Drake, I will march into the afterlife and drag you back by the ear. I will be livid if you make me a widow.”

I straddle Ezekiel’s shoulders, holding on to his spikes and trying to ignore the fact that this is equally as terrifying as riding a horse. At least he is likely to catch me if I fall. Maybe. Dragons are temperamental bastards.

I guide Keira until she takes her place in front of me. She grabs her bow and quiver of arrows, preparing for the next wave of attack. I start to weave straps of air around her to keep her in her seat, but find she has already put some in place.

A squeak erupts from Keira’s lips as Ezekiel launches into the air and she fumbles for anything to hold on to. I wrap my arms around her chest and hold her tight, despite how my stomach dips and my nerves flare.

I don’t let go of her until we are above the sparse treeline and her heart rate slows. Mine crashes so hard against my ribcage it feels like it will shoot out of my chest.

I give Keira the space she needs to nock her arrows and let them loose on the enemy below. It is a marvel to watch the flames dance across her fingers and up the arrow shaft without burning it to cinders.

Warriors flee and fight beneath us in a jumble of house colors, their number spreading far through the forest. The mere shadow of the dragon falling over the humans is enough to send them into a frenzy of fear. Ezekiel swoops down low, spraying clusters of the enemy with his venom before soaring back up out of their reach. It is dizzying, but I keep the contents of my stomach down, despite how it revolts. Keira sends a look of pure exhilaration over her shoulder.

Cyprien rides up on a black dragon beside us, with Lilly straddled behind him, and both give me a nod. As we fly over the sparse forest, I grasp the life force of immense trees and spear their thick branches into the fleeing army, swiping roots across the ground and crushing dozens in a single wave.

I search their number for the men Ineedto kill. My hands twist with the fierce desire to inflict pain on the mad king or Lord Desmond. To command the trees to pulverize their bodies. To force the earth to swallow them whole.

It becomes an obsession.

Every other hostile life I snuff out as I leave a wake of crimson on our trail holds no gratification for me any longer.

Edmund races past us, standing on the back of the other black dragon, almost entirely in his primal form except forhis face. He laughs maniacally as he explodes trees within the enemy’s midst and throws out hundreds of sharp, woody projectiles from them. His fireballs shoot out alongside the flaming breath of the dragon.

I can’t help smiling at the insane bastard. He is all Tuatha Dé Danann craziness unleashed.

Possessive. Feral. Bold.

He has to suppress his true nature every other day of his life to be the good and just lord. The compassionate father.Today, he can be as crazy as he likes.

We attack the army for days across the northlands until they pass out of the ruins of Fort Blackrock and into the midlands. I drain my power multiple times on that mad pursuit. The army is severely fatigued when Edmund makes the call to stop their march.

I stand between him and Keira on the cracked pile of stone blocks that was once the pass of Fort Blackrock. Much of the fortifications hugging the mountains still stands, but the strategic defense of the thick iron gate and battlements above it are nothing more than rubble and ash.

Black soot marks everything, and its scent, mixed with the acrid tang of black powder, still hangs in the air.

“Are you sure about this?” I glance between Edmund and Keira. “We can slaughter that entire army if we continue our pursuit. Maybe even kill the mad king.” My fingers twitch to do exactly that.

Edmund turns rabid eyes on me, the ghosts of flames burning behind the green. “Don’t think I’m not tempted.”

Keira places a hand on my arm, forcing me to look at her. “If we fight into the midlands, the rest of the kingdom will rise up against us, assuming it is an invasion and a grab for the throne.”

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