Page 61 of Crown of Betrayal and Blood

“Got it!” With a roar, Blair seizes the debris with wind and catapults all of it at the drachen while I hit the creatures with more fire.

Sweat beads on my brow and trickles down my face, and my arms tremble under the strain. My breaths come in sharp gasps.

Red and orange flames fade to white as I focus, digging deep to utilize every last speck of power. I hit some sort of barrier and push harder, crashing against it repeatedly until an odd vibration hums within me. The bone-deep rattle grows stronger, spreading through my entire being.

After one final push, the barrier crumbles. An inferno explodes from me, hotter and stronger than any I’ve conjured before. The huge tempest of flames blazes as bright as the sun as it lunges for our enemy.

When the fire strikes them, the drachen emit high-pitched squeals and revert to their phantom forms. Flesh once again becomes shadow, and the shadow bubbles into ash that thrashes and squirms as wind and earth help force the drachen even farther into the fiery trap.

Still shrieking, the phantomlike drachen start to disassemble. They ooze into a thousand oily black shadows as if they were never more than a nightmare given form and soar away from us at a dizzying speed.

Exhaustion weighs on my limbs, but I wait for the threat to vanish before releasing my power and nearly collapsing with relief. Pebbles and roots and dirt fall. The wind stills. Leesa drops to her knees, face pale.

When I hurry to my sister, she waves me away. “I’m okay. I promise. Just need a minute to catch my breath.”

“Sterling!” As I run to him, he blinks several times, then glances around.

His chest rises and falls with ragged breaths, the trance finally broken.

Once I reach him, I wrap an arm around his trembling form.

He leans into me. “Fuck, they almost had me. I’ve never felt fear like that before. I was powerless. They’re getting stronger.”

“I know. Fire by itself didn’t cause them to retreat this time.” I drape Sterling’s arm over my shoulder to support him. “Come on. We need to get you back.”

His nod is barely perceptible, his body weakened and relying on my strength more than his own.

Agnar and Blair hover nearby, their expressions grim as they watch their prince struggle.

“Can you fly?” Still breathing heavy, Blair takes Sterling’s other arm.

Sterling’s throat bobs and his eyes rove the lakeside clearing as if seeing it for the first time.

The landscape has changed since we landed. The ground is churned mud, baked in spots and scorched in others. Nothing smaller than a fist-sized rock is left from Agnar and Blair’s combined elemental attacks. I can’t help but shudder at the idea of how much worse this would have been if it had happened within a city or town.

“Yes.” Sterling shakes his hair out of his face, revealing heat-reddened skin on his nose and forehead. His warm brown eyes find me. “Because you saved me. Again.”

“Always.” I smile, attempting to chase away the fear that still lingers in his eyes. “I can’t marry you if you’re dead.”

If I can extract one good thing from this experience, it’s realizing that, whether real or fake, Sterling’s betrothal announcement doesn’t matter. I don’t even care anymore that he didn’t consult with me first.

What I do care about is him. I can deal with pretty much anything as long as he’s alive and healthy.

“She has a point.” Blair steps back. “Agnar, take Leesa and go. Sterling, I’ll give you a boost up.”

Flying back to the palace is a silent affair, the only sounds the rushing wind and Sterling’s heavy breathing.

We land on his personal balcony with less grace than normal, but I at least manage not to fall flat on my face after holding my magic steady for so long. Sterling’s knees give out, and he bounces off the railing before catching himself.

The guards who keep watch at all entrances to the king’s quarters are quick to approach, their concern etched into furrowed brows. “Is the prince okay?” The guard who asks has to be young, going by his voice, but the helmets they wear make it nearly impossible to distinguish their faces.

“Bring a healer.” I disguise my own fear and exhaustion with an authoritative tone. “We fought off the drachen, but one of them siphoned the prince’s energy.”

Without hesitation, the young guard darts away, the clacking of his boots fading into the distance.

Sterling attempts to wave off the worry. “I’m fine. I just need to sit down for a bit.”

But the lie hangs heavy in the air, visible to everyone as his legs wobble the whole short walk into his bedroom. His silvery wings, usually so regal, droop toward the floor before he tucks them away.

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