Page 1 of The Flame King's Queen

1

Zabriel

My head is bowed. Blood drips from my lips down my chin and spatters on the ground between my thighs where I’m kneeling. Every breath I take threatens to choke me and sends red-hot shards of glass through my chest.

I believed I could spot a traitor by now. I grew up with cruel, unpredictable Emmeric, who despised us all and his dragon. When he took a knife and slit our parents’ throats, I was outraged, traumatized, shocked. I’m older now, wiser, or so I thought.

I lift my head and glare through my curtain of tangled black hair at Leibel and Elysant.

Traitors.

“Please understand why we have to do this,Ma’len,” Elysant entreats me. She wears the crimson robes of theHratha’len, the women of Flame Temple.

Bythisshe means hold me captive while a third traitor murders Isavelle. My bride is half human and a witch, and so she has to die. To these Maledinni who stand before me, she’s notone of us, and so she is a threat to all of us.

Leibel’s expression is cold and ruthless as he grips his halberd, the long, pole-like weapon topped with a blade that all wingrunners carry.

My mind races with possibilities to save Isavelle. Elysant and Leibel have disarmed me and tied me up, but if I can get that weapon out of Leibel’s hands, I can kill them both and escape. Leibel is a Beta, which means I’m bigger, heavier, and faster than he is. Elysant is a slight young woman, but she wields dragon magic and poses a much graver threat. It’s her magic that is binding me now. She has lashed my arms behind my back, and only she can undo the magical ropes. Even without my injuries, I couldn’t hope to struggle free. I broke what feels like several ribs when Emmeric blasted me off my feet and across the ethereal planes, and I made things worse when I fell trying to mount my dragon. Bone shards must have pierced my lungs because blood is dripping from my lips, and there’s a wet, rattling sound in my throat every time I take a breath. It’s getting harder and harder to breathe. I think I’m drowning in my own blood.

Gods, this is all my fault. I shouldn’t have let Isavelle out of my sight. I shouldn’t have let her enter the ethereal plane to look for the missing villagers, but this is her home and these are her people. If I had stopped her, her tears would have been scored on my soul.

But she would have beensafe.

Isavelle.

And my baby.

My teeth clench in rage and despair. Why did I not instantly understand this morning why her scent had changed? I thought an Alpha would realize with stunning clarity what that sweet, hopeful fragrance coming from his Omega meant. I let my mate and unborn child leave my sight while we have enemies circling us. My skin should be flayed from my back and my knot cut off. I deserve to die, not them.

Scourge, I call in my mind.Save them, Scourge.

But the words echo uselessly around in my own head. My connection to my dragon has been severed by whatever cruel magic ensorcells my body. I’ve never felt more alone in my life.

I stare down at the magical red bonds wrapped around my chest. Isavelle used one word to disrupt the magic in the High Priest’s swords so I could break through his blocking and kill him. I can’t even remember what the word was. Even if I could, it would be useless to me because I am neither witch nor warlock.

“A dragon is approaching.” Elysant lifts her eyes to the fog that closes in all around us. “I can feel it.”

A dragon. It hurts to raise my head, but I force myself to watch the misty horizon. The ethereal plane is an unnerving place. I was held captive here with my people and dragons for five hundred years, locked in magical slumber. It was not meant to be traversed by mortals.

Leibel turns on the spot as he searches the misty gloom. “Which dragon? Is it Scourge? I thought you saidMa’lencouldn’t call his dragon once you bound him with magic.”

“That doesn’t mean Scourge won’t come looking for his rider.”

Leibel mutters under his breath, “Everything’s too hazy to see very far. I hate this place. Foul witchcraft brought us here. If Scourge rips us apart—”

“Let’s moveMa’lenout of sight. Quickly, over here.”

Together, they grasp me under the arms and attempt to drag me toward the shelter of a small tree. Hiding me from whatever might fly over us.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” I growl, thrashing back and forth in their grip. I spray blood as I speak, and more blood runs down my chin. I can feel the bones in my chest grinding together. The pain is nearly blinding, and I struggle to stay conscious. I can’t pass out if Scourge is nearby or another dragon and their rider who can rip these traitors apart.

I manage to pull myself out of their grasp so violently that I crash to the ground, landing heavily on my injured side. Black spots swarm before my eyes. As I’m lying with my cheek pressed against the dirt with blood filling my lungs, I see the dragon.

Not in the sky, and it’s not Scourge.

Gold and turquoise scales flash through the mist, moving sinuously and silently. Esmeral is wearing the same incandescent, spitting-furious expression as when she pinned Kane against a rock after ripping a giant hole in his dragon’s wing. The little dragon cares not for who is bigger than her or who outranks her. She will protect her rider to the death, and her mate’s rider, from whoever threatens them.

I lay in the dust, not daring to move as Esmeral slinks, silently and unnoticed, across the ground toward us. My throat closes with emotion. My mate’s little dragon is everything to me, just like her rider. It feels as though Isavelle herself has come to save me so I can save her.

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