Page 165 of Wrath of the Fae

It stops its roar. The fire dies down, and slowly, it turns to face me. Its eyes burn with anger and hatred I know too well. It’s mine. It’s all of ours. But when it faces me, it offers a slight bow.

‘Fucking hell, Raven. Did that dragon just bow to you?’ Cyrus breathes with a mix of admiration and terror.

‘Cyrus. Meet the Leviathan of the Fifth Kingdom.’

I give it one order. One simple instruction.

And it obeys without hesitation. It cannot refuse me. It could not refuse the King when he ordered it beneath the ice. Its will is mine.

Mine.

‘Kill,’ I tell it. ‘Kill my enemies.’

It roars and turns its attention to the armies. As it inhales deeply, the armies start to scream. They start to run.

I watch through Cyru’s eyes as it breathes fire over the whole lot of them. On and on it goes, a never-ending stream of life-ending, all-consuming flame. They scream as they burn. They scream as they die.

Cyrus lets out a shaky breath as he sees the golden shimmer of my shield protecting those in our colours. As the First Kingdom men and women die, ours are untouched. Ours are safe, protected by me and my power.

I feel Ivan trying to pull me in. That tug in my chest is relentless as his machine senses me.

But it’s no match for me now I’m grounded in this realm.

I bet he’s furious as his machine fails to claim me.

I grip onto Cyrus tighter, anchoring myself to him. To our Bond. My wings stretch out as far as they can go.

The winged warriors of the enemy try to attack the dragon. A group manage to get close enough to impale its eye as another drags a sword through the edge of its wing.

But our side deals with them swiftly and protects the creature.

Not a single one is harmed. Our people are safe.

Mypeople.

The dragon stops breathing its devastating fire and looks once more at me. My hand is still outstretched as I wield my command. It rears up and touches its nose to my palm, nuzzling me.

I see it through Cyrus’s eyes.

My arms are now both tainted, all the way up to my shoulders, and it’s slowly spreading.

The dragon’s eye is gone. Its wing is badly damaged, and I know it will never be able to fly again.

The more I control it, the more the markings spread. The darkness grows. I feel the creature’s malevolence too. Its desires to devour and burn everything and everyone. To melt this ice and ravish the land to ash and embers.

If I release my grip on it, that is what will happen.

I step back.

‘I’m sorry,’ I tell it. And I mean it. ‘I am so sorry. Thank you for saving them.’

I command its return to the depths. It takes all I have. Every piece of focus and will to order its return to sleep.

‘Stop,’ Cyrus warns, attempting to lower my hand and break my concentration. ‘Raven, stop!’

The creature’s eyes roll into its head, and its body falls back into the ice.

I feel it fall into the endless pit.

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