Page 59 of Realm of Wind and Vines
Searing rage flashes across Orion’s face, and I think it’s by sheer force of will that the Unseelie King doesn’t start torturing Gremar right then and there.
“We’re not meant to be a monolith!” Draven snaps, frustration lacing his voice. “We’re separate clans with different cultures. We’re not meant to be ruled by one set of leaders as if all dragon shifters are the same.” He stabs a hand towards Gremar. “Your clan has their own culture and their own traditions, but you barely get to practice them now because two people in an ice castle halfway across the continent is deciding what you’re allowed to do in your own homeland.”
“We still have our own culture.”
“Really? Didn’t Fire Night used to be a huge tradition among your clan? A rite of passage even?” Challenge shines like steel in Draven’s eyes as he stares Gremar down. “When was the last time you got to practice that?”
Gremar opens his mouth, but no retort makes it out. Standing there on the pale floor, he just looks back at Draven, his mouth still slightly open.
“The Red Clan is fierce and proud,” Draven continues, his voice echoing with conviction through the high-ceilinged hall. “And it’s supposed to be ruled byyou.”
Across the floor, Gremar hesitates.
“Azaroth didn’t choose Bane and Jessina to lead the Red Clan.” Draven holds Gremar’s gaze with blazing eyes. “He choseyou. It’s time to take your clan back.”
For the first time ever, Gremar Fireclaw’s iron conviction wavers. He opens and closes his mouth several times, but no words make it out. So instead, he licks his lips and swallows while that uncharacteristic uncertainty flits across his face.
Still standing by the left wall, I watch it all in stunned silence.
Mabona’s tits, he’s good. This entire conversation, Draven has deliberately been hitting Gremar precisely where it will hurt the most. His pride. It’s like watching a master archer shoot the wings off a fly. I’ve always known that Draven is excellent at making people do what he wants, but watching him manipulateGremar this thoroughly is so hot that I can feel the fire flickering through my veins.
“It’s, uhm…” Gremar begins, indecision still pulsing in his brown eyes.
The massive doors to the entrance hall are yanked open.
I whip my head towards them.
Ice spreads through my body like cold poison as two dragon shifters in elegant silver garments saunter in through the doors.
A slow smile spreads across Empress Jessina Iceheart’s face. “Well, isn’t this a lovely little reunion.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Across the room, Alistair flinches at the mere sound of her voice. It breaks my heart to see it. Since I was living with Draven in the Ice Palace, I don’t know the full extent of the physical and mental torture that the Icehearts put Alistair and Isera through. But given the complete breakdown that I witnessed in the kennels last year, and his reaction just now, it must have been even worse than I could have imagined.
“Well done, Gremar,” Emperor Bane Iceheart says as he strides into the room next to Jessina. His long black hair ripples down his back when he moves. “I was doubting your intelligence when you sent word. But you were right.” Bane’s black eyes gleam in the torchlight as he sweeps his gaze over us. “We really do have rats in the castle.”
Isera’s expression darkens. Standing next to her, I can practically feel the murderous rage and hatred radiating from her entire body. Not only did Bane tortureher, he also tortured and humiliated and drained the life out of her mother for a hundred and fifty years until she died from it.
Grabbing her wrist discreetly, I begin backing us away from the door and towards the side of the room where Draven andGremar are standing. Across the shining floor, Orion and Alistair do the same.
The previous hesitation is completely gone from Gremar’s face as he inclines his head and says, “Thank you, sir.”
Draven lets out a mocking snort.
Anger flickers in Gremar’s eyes as he snaps his gaze back to Draven and gives him a taunting smile back. “Did you really think that Imar and I don’t have protocols in place? The moment he sent his message, I knew exactly what was going on.”
“Of course we did,” Draven replies, a smirk ghosting across his lips.
Gremar blinks in surprise, apparently not having expected that answer. But before he can say anything, Empress Jessina loses the final shreds of her already incredibly limited patience.
“Now, are you going to surrender quietly?” she asks, her pale gray eyes full of both haughty arrogance and vicious threats. Sweeping her long white hair back over her shoulder, she arches a pale brow at Draven. “Or are we going to have to kill all of your friends before we drag you back to make an example out of you?”
“I choose option four,” he replies.
My heart leaps. Four. We’re going with contingency plan number four. It’s the riskiest one. But also the plan that, if we succeed, will bring the most substantial reward.
“Four?” Jessina echoes, her delicate brows scrunching in confusion. “What do?—”
