Page 82 of The Flame King's Queen

“A dragon!” someone shouts, pointing excitedly to the horizon. “A dragon is approaching.”

We all shield our eyes against the sun’s rays so that we may make out which dragon it is. At first it’s a dark speck, but I feel a sickening tightening in my belly as something about the shape—too large, too broad—tells me this isn’t the dragon I hoped it would be. Still, I hold my thumbs and hope.

The dragon’s scales flash yellow.

It’s Auryn, not Nilak. There’s no sign of the white dragon in the skies, only the hulking, hateful shape of Kane’s dragon.

The Temple Crone has been resting in a chair, but now she gets slowly to her feet.

“It is Stesha riding Auryn,” I tell myself in a whisper, hoping it to be true. “Nilak’s wing is injured. He has killed Kane and tamed Auryn so that he may return and fetch help for her.”

But as Auryn alights on the ground, we see that his rider wears black, not white. He swings his leg over the saddle and slides to the ground, limping as he makes his way toward us, and his black clothes shining with blood, but walking steadily and possessing all his limbs.

Ravenna is gazing at Kane in incredulity.

Zenevieve is trembling with both hands clutched over her heart. She shakes her head over and over, not able to believe what she’s seeing. I can’t believe it myself. Stesha is the most ferocious fighter among the dragonriders. For Kane to return and not him, something must have gone horribly wrong.

The watching crowd rumbles in consternation. I can hear people start to wail and cry. There’s not one blue and white banner being waved in the air.

“Zabriel,” I manage to choke out as he returns to my side, but I don’t know what to say. My mate is glaring at Kane with burning red eyes. His scent is thick with fury and grief.

Red glistens on Kane’s face as he stalks toward us. There’s a cut on his forehead and blood has coated half his face. His black eyes flash with malice as he takes in the watching crowd. Hears their angry shouts, their disbelief, their despair.

I push through the crowd and stand before Kane, shaking with rage and grief. “What did you do? How did you do it?”

I picture Auryn tearing Nilak’s wing and the white dragon tumbling from the skies. Nilak perishing from the fall, but Stesha crawling out from beneath his dead dragon. He must have, because Kane has injuries. Did Stesha fight back even though he must have had broken bones? Did Kane murder him in cold blood for daring to covet his dragons?

Kane doesn’t seem to hear me. He doesn’t even look at me. The abuse and condemnation from the crowd has transfixed him, and he narrows his eyes in anger. Beyond him, Aurissa, Auriana, and Ragdyn have moved silently closer to Auryn and bared their teeth at the other dragons.

Zabriel is breathing hard, and he unsheathes his sword.

“You would heap insult upon my misery?” Kane asks him bitterly.

“Draw your sword.”

But I realize at the same time that Zabriel does that Kane has no sword.

A cry goes up from the crowd, shrill with hope and relief. “A dragon! It’s Nilak.”

We all whirl around to look. Approaching from the opposite direction than we expected her, Nilak swoops down and alights on the ground.

Stesha swings his leg over and slides to the ground, and we see that he’s carrying two swords. His and Kane’s. It appears to have been a vicious fight. Stesha’s white leathers are spattered with blood. Strands of his hair are nearly black.

But his face is flushed in victory and his eyes are sparkling.

The dragonmaster strides up to us and tosses Kane’s sword at Zabriel’s feet. “Forgive me, Zabriel. I had to fly a longer route home so that Nilak could express her joy.”

Zabriel’s anger has turned to exultation. “You scared us. I thought you were dead.”

Stesha glances at Kane. “Did you do it?”

Kane cuts his eyes away and seethes under his breath. “I concede.”

The two words are repeated all around us until the news finally reaches the crowd that Kane has conceded and Stesha and Nilak have won.

Stesha picks up Kane’s sword and offers the weapon to the other Alpha, hilt first.

Kane’s expression churns with rage. When he doesn’t reach for his sword, Stesha drops it at his feet, and their gazes are filled with hate. Far from clearing the air between them, the fight only seems to have deepened the animosity between the two men.

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