Page 54 of Storm of Fury
Sirius cut through the winds like a scythe, his claws ripping and tearing as he threatened precious wings. When they turned on him, he hurled pellets of ice at them, riding the storm with a howling laugh until they finally tucked tail and fled, no doubt fearing his hard-earned reputation.
All but one.
The pair of them circled each other like mirror images, though she was far smaller than he was. It didn’t make her any less deadly. Sirius could see the merciless glint in her eyes and the razor-sharp claws on the tips of her feet. She alone had withstood his magic, watching from a distance as if trying to learn his defenses before she’d glided toward him.
The hail died.
The storm abated, thunder grumbling into the distance.
It wasn’t as though he’d meant to lower his defenses, but the churn of emotion within him was almost enough to choke his grasp on the storm.
And perhaps there was some lingering curiosity within him, an urge to demand answers from her.
He reached toward her with a psychic thread, offering a connection she accepted.
“Hello. Mother.”
Thedrekiqueen broke the connection sharply, pinwheeling down to the mainland. Sirius followed, though he kept a watchful eye on the horizon. It was highly unusual for adrekiqueen to go unguarded, though perhaps they thought him weak enough with emotion that he wouldn’t attack her.
If so, then they thought wrong.
He merely wanted answers before he decided what to do.
They both landed and shifted into mortal form.
Zorja stared at him. Shock darkened her pupils. “Sirius,” she breathed.
It was like staring at a smaller, more feminine version of himself. He’d always been told he’d inherited her piercing eyes and sulky mouth, but to see her in the flesh….
His heart—that long dead beast that only stirred at the sound of Malin’s name—skipped a beat.Treacherous thing.But how could it not? He remembered this woman, though her features had been long blurred by time. It all came flooding back; the sound of her hum as she brushed his hair; the smell of her, a scent that reminded him of warmth and sunshine and soft hugs; and the memory of her voice as she read to him from the enormous book of fairy tales that he’d long since given to Malin.
She abandoned you.
She walked away from you when you were five, leaving you to your father’s so-called mercies.
And his heart, beating faster than he could ever recall, squeezed in his chest.
“In the flesh,” he sneered.
“I’m surprised you know the rules of parlay,” she told him, “considering how viciously you’ve been tearing my guards from the skies.”
“Honor demands I at least meet you,” he told her with a snarl.
“Ah, the renownedhonorof theZiniclan. Both its strength and its weakness.”
“It was where I was raised. What else would I know?” A nasty smile curled over his mouth. “A mother’s embrace? A mother’s love?”
Zorja stilled. “I gave you what I could.”
He circled her. “Forgive me if I found it lacking. Your eldest son is dead.”
There was a hint of sadness in her eyes. “So I have heard on the wind. Tell me… was it a good death?”
“A good death for a vile creature. Magnus took after his father.”
Zorja’s mouth worked, but then she shut it and lifted her chin.
“If you had been there—” He shut his mouth abruptly. The words were too sharp to do anything other than betray him. “Stellan had the means to mold Magnus into a monster. If he’d had a mother, then he may not have turned out as such. The only thing I mourn is the chance my brother never had to avoid his fate.”
