Page 137 of Cruelest Kiss and Fairest Blood
“There’s something I’d like you to see,” he says.
“What troubles you?” I ask. He’s got that look. Most days his energy is light and joyous. Gone is the cold, detached Ruler of the Underworld. With me around, his truest self has come out. It’s been an honor to watch him blossom, his happiness unfurling like the new forest we currently walk through. Today, though, I see the weight of his position pressing in around him.
Harrow leads me to a garden we haven’t visited before. There are around thirty people within—a larger garden than most. It’s still a mystery to me how people are assigned to each one. There’s no guarantee they knew each other or were even from the same continent. The people in this one are all similarly dressed in peculiar, scaled armor.
“What do you notice about them?” he asks.
“They have interesting taste in clothing.”
“It’s not clothing.”
Looking again, I realize the scales are embedded into their skin.
“They have scales?”
“That’s part of it. What else?”
Studying the people, I take in their movements, heights, hair colors. Upon closer inspection of their faces, I know the answer Harrow is looking for.
“Their eyes. The pupils are slitted.” I think back to Angel’s eyes. They were slitted too, but there’s something different about these. “They aren’t human eyes.”
“Reptilian,” Harrow confirms.
“Reptilian people?” They look enough like normal humans—aside from the scales and pupils.
“They’re shapeshifters. Dragon shapeshifters.”
“Dragons?” I move closer, leaning in to get a better look. “I’ve never noticed them before.”
“They’re all recent arrivals. Within the last week.”
There must be dozens. So many dragons dying within a week? That doesn’t feel right.
“Shouldn’t dragons be hard to kill?”
Harrow nods, pleased. That was the right question.
“They are incredibly hard to kill—and even harder to find. With this many dead, the species must be nearing extinction.”
“Extinction? There were so few to begin with?” My heart tightens. “Why? How did they die?”
The grim look on Harrow’s face makes my stomach swoop.
“I don’t know,” he says quietly. “But I believe someone is killing off the dragons.”
The statement gives me chills. The idea of someone targeting and extinguishing an entire species is terrifying.
“Could it be the one who escaped from here? The one you told me about.”
“No. He’s not interested in dragons. Missing children, that’s the trail he leaves behind.”
I’m instantly sorry I asked. He rarely talks about the one that got away. Even Drusinnia was unable to retrieve that dark soul. Part of me is grateful. He would have lost a third wing if she had been. Imagining Harrow unable to fly is too heartbreaking to fathom.
“I’ve got someone working on it. She’ll get him back. When he drops into my domain, I’ll ensure his torment befits his crimes.” Harrow’s voice is low and cold. There he is, the Ruler of the Underworld. The man I first met. That darkness still swirls in his every cell.
My thoughts return to the dragons. “Can we move closer?”
Harrow nods.
