Page 106 of The Beast King's Bride

“This is not fate,” Talen growls. “This is a riddle and a curse cast on us by a greedy Empress, and I won’t let more innocents suffer for it.”

“And yet that is what you are willing to do because you obey different laws now to the ones you obeyed until quite recently. The girl—”

“Jassin,” Talen interrupts him again, “see to it that the White Sage has the best lodgings in the palace and set two guards on him to make sure of his safety. This audience is over.”

Baffled, I stare at Talen. His gaze is furious but also troubled. What was all this about, and why did it get him so riled up?

The White Sage stares at us a little longer, until it starts to feel uncomfortable, then he bows again, that slight hunching of bony shoulders.

“Thank you for listening, your majesty. I wish you all the best in your endeavors to lift the curse and know that the other kingdoms are watching, fervently hoping you will succeed, a beacon for the rest of the kings struggling against the Decay.”

Talen slowly leans back in his throne, nothing relaxed about him as he waits for the sage to go.

Which he does, turning and following Jassin out of the throne room.

“Is the curse everywhere, then?” I whisper.

“It’s not the exact same one. The riddles are different but the root of the evil is the same.”

“The Empress,” I say.

Talen looks like he’s about to say something, but the guards pound their spears on the floor again. A Fae woman enters and curtsies then hurries toward us.

“I thought audience time was over,” Talen mutters.

Then I recognize Auria, her face white, her eyes wide. “Sire!” she cries, stumbling over her long skirts, running toward us. “The monsters! We’re under attack!”

Talen surges to his feet, eyes glowing bright, grabbing the hilt of the sword still sheathed at his side. “Where?”

“In the galleries between the ballroom and here, Sire, it was two of them—”

The wall down the length of the throne room cracks open, the rock splintering, chunks of rock crashing to the floor that shakes, sending me to my knees.

“Get out of here!” Talen shouts, “all of you! Ash, go!”

He can’t fight the monster alone and even if I wanted to, I can’t find my feet. I grab the throne to try and haul myself up. Two guards have remained, staring as something scaly breaks through the wall—a lizard head with curling horns.

A dragon.

And Talen was right, this isn’t a draike, it is an enormous beast.

“Get Ash out of here!” he yells at the guards. “Come get her out—”

The dragon smashes the rest of the wall open, burnished talons sweeping the debris away, balls of flames rushing at us—

Talen lifts his sword, the scabbard ringing like a bell, and a glow explodes from it, erecting an invisible wall to stop the flames before they reach us.

Magic.

His dark hair and his braid lift in invisible currents, his eyes glow like twin stars, and the dragon halts and roars, the sound so deep it has the glass rattling in the windows.

And when it stops, I realize that Talen is still trembling, even as he keeps the sword raised high and the magical wall protecting us. He’s exhausted, I realize. He spent all his power into the earth and river this morning and now he’s trying to fight a monster in his palace at a time when he should be resting and replenishing his energy.

Spending the night with me—until his transformation—can’t have helped him rest, either.

And now here I stand, a liability, a weakness.

Slowly I inch away from him, toward the two guards who are ashen-faced, their swords shaking badly in their hands, in danger of falling. “Help him!” I shout at them, hoping to shake them out of their fear. “Help your king!”

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