Page 126 of Crown of Betrayal and Blood

Face a blank canvas, Sterling dips his chin—the only acknowledgment he gives the king.

I gasp again, finally drawing in a short, ragged breath. Then another. And another. Grief and a burning rage intertwine inside me. I want nothing more than for Xenon to pay. To make him suffer for all he’s done.

The king turns away from me, raising both hands in the air.

Shadows boil up from the ground and from in the eyril field, separating into their own lethal forms.

Dark, sinuous shapes that lope, slither, and bulge along the ground. Like a mutated and misshapen cavalry straight from the darkest of nightmares, they race across the field toward us.

The drachen pour from the field in droves, dozens—no, hundreds—of them. Too many to count.

On shaky legs, I push myself to my feet.

Sterling lifts a single finger. Helene’s pale face tinges blue, a stark contrast with the glossy black braid around the crown of her head.

Desperation pulses through my veins. No. No one else is going to die tonight.

Fuck Xenon and his threats. If I don’t do something, none of us will survive this.

I lower my dampening shields.

Help me.I empty every bit of desperation I have into multiple bonds. The dragons respond immediately.

Fury mixed with resolve.

Aid is on the way.

Magic thrums as flames lick my palms, but I don’t dare let loose. Not yet. Sterling won’t hesitate to kill them.

An eerie whirring sound snaps my attention to the sky. Hundreds of pairs of insidious black wings block out the moonlight.

I gape in abject horror, utterly frozen in place. More drachen than I’ve ever seen are flying toward Xenon, heeding their master’s call.

Face uplifted, the Aclarian king opens his mouth. A plethora of whirling, wispy, shimmering black plumes twist through the sky, streaming from every drachen’s mouth. The black, smoking plumes race through the air like live creatures.

Magic. Their very essence.

The plumes conjoin, creating a funneling whirlwind of raw power.

Xenon opens his mouth wider, hands held high as he breathes in the essence of these heinous creatures. His body goes rigid as his unnerving gray eyes start to glow from receiving the drachen’s power.

No amount of therapy will ever erase that image from my mind.

Again, I lower my dampening shield just long enough to connect with the dragons.Help. Please help us.

And gods save the people I love.

Now. For better or worse, it’s time.

I lift my hands as my wings snap out and rise into the air above the field. Power simmers in my blood as I call on my magic. I reach deep within, pulling from the core of my being.

My body heats. Still, I hold it, allowing the power to build until it’s a living extension of my will. Sweat beads, then drips between my shoulder blades. My hands tremble.

And then I release everything I have.

In the blinding, flashing light, thousands of tiny stars dance in my vision.

Someone screams. MaybeIscream.

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