Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 120974 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 605(@200wpm)___ 484(@250wpm)___ 403(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 120974 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 605(@200wpm)___ 484(@250wpm)___ 403(@300wpm)
Then she picks up a mortar and pestle and begins to grind together fragrant herbs—lavender, chamomile, golden valerian—and adds a few crushed petals from the glowing honey-bath flowers.
“These will help bind the Draught to your mother’s spirit,” she explains. “And now… the incantation. You must speak it clearly, Princess—let your magic rise while you stir.”
She hands me a silver rod and gestures toward the cauldron. As the Essence Globe empties in a slow stream of liquid light, I stir clockwise, watching the mixture shimmer and swirl. The potion begins to bubble with soft golden heat.
The Sorceress intones the spell first, then nods to me.
I repeat the words, my voice trembling, then strengthening as I go:
“By flame and bloom, by blood and breath,
Unbind the chains that tether death.
Let gold be light, and light be life,
Restore what’s lost, erase the strife.”
The cauldron glows brighter with every word. The color shifts—from soft rose to burnished amber to a brilliant molten gold. The air hums with power, lifting the tiny hair on my arms and at the back of my neck.
When the final syllable leaves my lips, the brew stills. The light within it pulses like a beating heart and I know without even asking that it’s done.
The Sorceress lets out a soft sound of satisfaction.
“Well done, child! That was… impressive.”
I lower the stirring rod, still staring at the glowing, golden liquid.
“Will it work?” I whisper. “Will it heal my mother?”
“It will. Your magic is raw but potent—and your emotional connection with your man with has strengthened it. You have quite a lot of magic for one so young. I could polish that power, you know.” She tilts her head, giving me a considering look. “If you ever decide to return here, I would be honored to train you. There’s a great deal of potential in you, Irena.”
I hardly know what to say.
“Thank you, but… I don’t know how I’d come back. Once Valen flies me home and I return to my family, I’m not sure…”
Valen, who has been standing behind me quietly this whole time, speaks up.
“Baby, you don’t really want to go back there, do you? I mean… I know you need to heal your mother, but after that, don’t you want to come away with me?”
I stare at him.
“I… we never talked about that.”
“It’s understandable your man would want to keep you close,” the Sorceress says smoothly. “As long as he wears that collar, your life is bound to his. If you die, he will be trapped in his Drake form forever.”
I freeze.
“Wait—what?” My gaze swings to Valen. “Is that true? Is that why you came after me in the forest? Is that why you’ve been protecting me—just because you were afraid if I died you’d be stuck as your Drake?”
Valen’s jaw tightens.
“No! I mean… yes, it’s true. But that’s not the reason I—”
“Would you have come for me if there was no collar?” I demand. “Back in the forest at the witch’s hut—would you have saved me or just changed into your Drake and flown away?”
“That’s not…I mean, of course I would have come for you,” he protests.
But I don’t know if I believe him anymore. I remember the way he held me and let me cry that night in the cave…the way he healed me with his Drake’s power. Was it all an act? Has he only been protecting me this whole time because of the power I hold over him? I thought we moved past all that…maybe I was wrong.
Valen’s face twists in frustration. “Baby—”
“Maybe we should just get going,” I say, looking away, my heart suddenly aching. “I need to get back to my mother as soon as possible.”
He looks like he wants to argue. But then he just nods.
“All right,” he says stiffly. “We can go as soon as you’re ready.”
“Just let me change,” I murmur, looking down at myself. The robe is soft but too much of me is showing, and suddenly I feel exposed in a way I didn’t just moments before.
The Sorceress turns to prepare the vial of Healing Draught, and I walk away to gather my clothes, trying to pretend my heart isn’t cracking open.
71
VALEN
The Poison Desert stretches beneath us like a dead thing—miles of cracked stone and shifting ash, the air thick with acrid fumes that burn my Drake’s nostrils and sting his scales. The wind howls around us, sharp and foul, carrying the bite of poison and decay.
Fuck, I think grimly. I hate this place.
My Drake agrees, sending me a low, miserable rumble that vibrates through our chest as we beat our wings harder, pushing through the foul air. The poison burns—there’s no other word for it. It seeps into every scale, every breath. I feel it as keenly as he does—the shared pain an echo between us. My only solace is the fact that the Sorceress gave me an ointment to rub on myself before I shifted.