Page 116 of Wild Flame

I gripped his hand. “It won’t kill me. I’m staying with you.”

He simply nodded, but I saw the love and pride shining in his eyes.

The Talonar had subdued some of the entranced riders and were still fighting others. Malik bent to pick up one of their discarded swords.

As he did so, I couldn’t help but wonder how he was so coherent even with the help of the obsidian and not out of his mind like Sura. Then, all at once, I remembered what Amir had said. Manticore venom. He had said he used a form of manticore venom in the Fleshfire. Malik had been stung by a manticore and survived. So was he partially immune?

Whatever the reason, I was glad for it as we headed back to where Leif and Amir still fought.

“Good to see Leif following the plan,” Malik observed.

I looked up at him. “What? What plan?”

Just then a bellowing roar sounded from the direction of the main part of the palace, and mere seconds later, Azrun came diving through the broken portion of The Sphere, spreading his wings wide and swooping low.

“Amir!” Malik bellowed.

The prince’s eyes fell from Azrun and widened as he caught sight of his brother striding towards him. “Malik!” he said in surprise, taking a faltering step back before he seemed to recover his nerve. “It’s not possible. How—”

“It doesn’t matter how!” Malik thundered. “Look what you’ve done!” Releasing my hand, he gestured to the burning landscape around us, to the partially shattered dome.

Azrun shook the ground as he landed not far off and snapped at Virath. The other dragon immediately turned toward the larger threat and the two became a wall of biting teeth and slashing claws. Wormoth quickly backed away from the warring dragons and bent to lick at a wound on his foreleg. He appeared worse off than I had realized from his fight with Virath, and I hoped it was nothing too serious.

“Tell me it’s not true!” Malik roared, his face a livid mask, taking a few more steps towards Amir. Leif moved to stand beside me, his eyes darting to his injured dragon. “Tell me you aren’t the one behind all this!” Malik demanded. “Sending someone to assassinate Zara—our little sister who adores you, the assault on Three Points, using Ramin to attack our own people? Murdering innocents and destroying lives all so that you could what—be king?” He spat on the ground in disgust.

Amir didn’t shrink under the onslaught of his Malik’s fury. In fact, he hardly seemed affected at all by his brother’s words. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand. You’ve been given everything your whole life, while I’ve had to claw and scrape for every little thing I wanted.” There was no remorse on his face at all, only hatred as he stared back at Malik. “You don’t deserve to be king,” he spat. “But I do.”

Malik shook his head and just stared at his brother. “Well, now you’ve ensured that will never happen. Your plan failed. And youwill spend the rest of your life in the dungeon until you are put to death for your crimes.”

Amir just smirked. “No, dear brother, I won’t.”

He threw the blade towards me. I made to move aside, but thanks to my injury, I knew I would be too slow—

But then Leif was there. Thrusting his body in front of mine. Taking the blade meant for me.

I felt his body jerk before he went down, taking me to the ground with him.

Shouts and roars rang out, but I was barely conscious of any of it as I turned Leif to his back, cradling him in my arms. The knife protruded from his chest, near his heart.

“Leif!” I cried.Oh, no!“Leif!”

“Leida . . .” Leif gasped for breath, and his throat made a horrible gurgling sound as blood appeared at the edges of his mouth. His eyes found mine. “. . . sorry, Leida. S-So . . .”

Shock held me immobile as his eyes fluttered, then closed. “No, no, no, no, Leif!” I cried, gripping him tightly as his big body shuddered, then went still in my lap. Horror suffused me. And the feeling only grew as I heard a mournful, suffering keen and looked up to see Wormoth stumble and collapse to the ground mere feet away, making the ground shake. The great beast’s big muzzle stretched out toward his fallen rider, and my heart clenched as I watched those shining, brilliant eyes dull and darken before he too went still.

My head went quiet as cold suffused my body.

Malik was shouting at Amir, and I had the vague notion that the two were fighting. Swords clanged, but I could barely hear it. I wasn’t aware of blood all around me—my own, Leif’s—nor the pain in my side that had turned to a dull numbness that I knew I should probably be concerned by. Nothing broke through the barrier of cold—the ice in my veins.

Leif was dead. His dragon was dead.

Disbelief and pain lanced through me, followed quickly by a healthy dose of guilt. Leif had saved me. He had sacrificed his life—his dragon’s life—for mine.

Because he loved me.

I couldn’t help but feel unworthy of such a monumental sacrifice. My eyes took in the man in my arms, then moved to the now dead dragon. There was a weight on my chest, making it hard to breathe.

I gently slid Leif’s body to the ground—and was suddenly jerked out of my numb haze as I was pulled roughly to my feet. A breath later, cold steel was pressed to my throat.

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