Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 85203 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85203 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
“But why do you keep your oath? What holds you to this place?” I search his face. “You don’t seem like you want to stay.”
I certainly wouldn’t blame him if he wanted to leave. The Citadel is an awful place for him. It’s not nice for me, either, but he’s been suffering under the Queen’s iron rule for all his life—it’s only been a few months for me.
He sighs heavily, and for once, he doesn’t try to shield the scarred side of his face from me. The wind ruffles his dark hair as he rakes a hand through it.
“The oath was magical,” he says. “It laid a spell on me that I would never be able to leave the boundaries of the kingdom while in my Drake form.”
So he’s trapped here—caged. Not by chains but by ancient magic.
“So there’s no way for you to fly away from here?” I ask softly.
“Not unless an unbound Drake leads the way,” he says dryly. “And since my father is senile and can’t even Shift anymore, and my uncle is dead, that leaves only my brother. And Dorian sure as hell isn’t going to let me leave.”
“But why do they keep you prisoner here?” I ask, frowning at the unfairness of it all.
Xaren gives a bitter laugh.
“They want to keep me in reserve. The dreaded Black Dragon—a weapon to be used in case of war. No other kingdom would dare to come against us as long as they know they have my Drake locked in their dungeon.”
No wonder he’s so angry all the time. No wonder he lashes out, I think. He’s not just scarred… he’s imprisoned.
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper. “That’s awful for you, Xaren. I’m sure you want to fly away from this place. I know I do.”
He looks at me then, his golden eyes softening.
“Well, neither of us is getting out of here anytime soon, little dove. But we can at least pretend we’re free.”
He gestures to the wide expanse of the cliff.
“I often come up here to pretend that. It calms my spirit… and it allows my Drake to come out when he needs some air.” He turns to me. “Speaking of that, are you ready to meet him?”
My heart gives a nervous flutter.
I’d nearly forgotten that was why we came—now is the moment of truth.
I lift my chin, trying to be brave.
“All right,” I say. “Where should I stand?”
“Just stay where you are and don’t move,” he tells me. “I’m going to give myself room to Shift.”
He steps away, walking toward the far edge of the cliff. His movements are careful, deliberate—putting a good thirty feet between us.
Goddess…just how big is he going to get?
He turns to face me one last time.
“All right—just stay there,” he calls. “My Drake is coming out now.”
And then… he begins to Shift.
27
ELAINA
At first, nothing happens.
Xaren stands at the far edge of the cliff, the wind tugging at his black hair and the pale morning sun breaking through the clouds behind him. His broad shoulders are tense, his stance braced, and for a moment I think perhaps he’s changed his mind.
Then his body begins to shimmer.
It starts as a faint rippling of light, like heat haze on stone. Then I realize it isn’t light—it’s his skin. His flesh is shifting…stretching…changing.
“Xaren…” I whisper, but his name is swallowed by the wind.
His spine arches, and I hear the sound—an awful, wondrous crack—like mountains moving, like the world itself breaking open. His back ripples, golden light spilling through as if his blood itself is molten metal. The air smells suddenly of lightning and burning cedar, sharp and electric.
He drops to one knee, clutching the ground. His fingers—those strong, capable hands that held me so tenderly last night—lengthen into black talons capable of carving into the stone. His arms widen—muscles thickening as his skin darkens from bronze to shadow to a glossy, liquid black that catches the light like obsidian.
The sound of tearing cloth and bone fills the air as his back splits open. Two immense, scaled wings unfurl—black as midnight on the outside, but when they catch the sunlight, they gleam deep violet, like a bruise touched by moonlight.
I stare at him, my eyes going wider and wider. Goddess of Mercy… I’ve never seen anything like this before—never even imagined it.
The transformation continues—his face elongates, his nose and mouth becoming a long, proud muzzle. Rows of sharp ivory teeth as long as swords flash as he lets out a low, shuddering growl that reverberates through my bones. His clothes have shredded and fallen away entirely now, disintegrating into ash that scatters across the cliff.
The Drake’s body swells and expands—bigger and bigger—until I can hardly comprehend the scale of him. He is huge. His wings alone could blot out the sky. His tail curls across the cliff floor, thick as an oak trunk at its base and narrowing to a forked end as big as my head. When he finally stills, the ledge that had seemed so vast before now looks small beneath his massive body.