Yes, I had been in that cave before… That cave was my home.
No. It was my prison.
Struggling to breathe from the revelations, my back slowly slid along the wall until my ass hit the floor, making Evie and Imogen rush to my side. And yet, I couldn’t really see them. All I saw was the image of the Warlock King marching towards me while conjuring his supreme and evil power.
“You will pay for this!” he raged again. “You will never seek him again, you disgusting creature. Do you hear me? NEVER!”
One after the other, his energy blasts made my massive body convulse until I whimpered in agonizing pain. His hate struck my being without mercy, and one of my heads snapped to the side. The chains that took away my freedom slashed into my face, drawing more blood.
My unsteady hand lifted to my chest, my mind conjuring a glimpse of the bruises that had spread over me last night. Older memories of pain overlapped with these, vanishing just as fast. I’d seen those bruises and wounds on me before; I had felt them all.
“Braxton!” Evie’s desperate call snapped me back to the present, to find her rooted by fear in front of me.
“It wasn’t me he was attacking,” I whispered, my eyes boring into her while everything else disappeared. All except the truth.
“If not you… then who?” Imogen asked, perplexed.
My attention shifted to her. “Azazel. He was torturing him, but I felt it all.”
Shock robbed them of breath, and they glanced at each other.
“How?” Evie asked, cradling my face in her hands to keep me with her.
Thu-thu-thump. Thu-thu-thump. Thu-thu-thump. Thu-thu-thump.
The hurried heartbeats thundered in my ears, its sound reaching a part of me that had been blocked for so long. One I didn’t even know existed. “Because Azazel and I are connected. We have always been.”
“Gods, you are his soulmate!” A mix of horror and astonishment gripped Imogen’s words.
I slowly nodded, struggling to understand it myself, but feeling that truth reverberate through every cell of my body.
“How can that be? Braxton is part Dragon. They are his family, and family doesn’t get to claim—”
“He may be part Dragon, darling,” Imogen began, seeing Evanna’s distress. “But Braxton is still part Soulris. He is also one of us, and Azazel claimed him before he was even born.”
“The heartbeat was mine…” I confessed, and that realization tore a part of my heart, the part that belonged to him as my soulmate, making my eyes burn. “That heartbeat is the only memory Azazel has of me.”
“That is why he followed the Harbinger from the start,” Evie whispered, glancing at me while pain cut through her features. “He didn’t fight for your father. He fought for you. To protect his soulmate.”
“Until Raithian captured him, using his corrupt power to turn him against the very being Azazel wanted to protect.” My mentor’s voice broke. “That’s why he’s been following you now…”
I slowly nodded, more pieces fitting into the dark puzzle that was my life.
“Azazel needed me to know. He was trying desperately to share it with me. Trying to break through the evil magic that keeps him enslaved long enough for me to hear…” Numbness coursed through my being, adding to everything else.
Gaze falling from mine, Evie’s hand caressed my chest. “Last night, your injuries reminded me of the ones I saw on you in the Mirror World. Only, these were far worse.” Shaking her head slowly, she swallowed. “Only Tharion’s blood was able to fully heal you.”
“Like my father’s blood used to do,” I finished for her, forcing a settling breath through my lungs. “I was never really sick, Evie. It was me feeling him. Every time Raithian tortured him. Each time he took his hatred out on Azazel, the injuries he caused appeared on me…”
“Because you are a different kind of soulmate.” Imogen shook her head as the dots connected before our eyes, pain darkening her expression.
“Braxton’s Wizard magic increased their connection tenfold.” Evie’s chest sank with the burdened breath that left her. “A bond made far stronger due to who you are… the Devenish Prince.”
With a defeated nod, I reached for her, pulling her to my side on the floor and wrapping an arm around her waist.
This was as hard on her as it was on me, but having her close gave me relief.
“But why would your father’s blood help stop the attacks? Why was his treatment the only thing to ‘heal’ you?” she added, taking my hand in hers and intertwining our fingers tightly, as though it gave her relief too.
“I don’t know, I—”
“I think I do,” Imogen offered, briefly glancing back at the journal containing my father’s studies of the Dragons. “Your father’s blood was infused by Tharion’s. The mixture strengthened your Dragon side, which in turn forced your Soulris side to recede. I imagine that made whatever remaining connection you still had to Azazel completely dormant—while in the Mirror World. And most likely, your Devenish side too. Khayden might not have known exactly how it worked. He probably assumed Tharion’s blood in his was healing you and keeping the illness at bay. So as long as he infused Dragon blood into you—”
“I was safe,” I finished for her, seeing her nod.
All of our gazes connected, silence stretching between us as the full weight of what we had just uncovered fell on us.
Azazel, the four-headed Dragon, was my soulmate, and I was his.
“A pure-hearted Devenish,” Evanna mused, still stunned by the truth. “It was the power in your heart that brought a creature of that might to you before you were even born.”
“And what still brings him to me,” I murmured, realizing something that seemed insane but could actually work. I jumped to my feet from the start, whirling around to face them while my heart thundered in my chest. “It isn’t four Dragons I need.”
“What do you mean?” Evanna asked, standing with Imogen.
“The Truth Teller’s words are rarely literal,” I explained. “It isn’t four Dragons I need. It is one Dragon as powerful as four,” I declared, fierce resolve gripping through every inch of my being. “I need to reclaim Azazel to defeat Raithian. I’m going to take him away from him.”
“What?! Wait, where are you going?” Evanna called after me when I rushed to the dresser, taking out the ring and sliding it onto my finger.
Instantly, a rush of energy coursed through me, making stronger, before I spun on my heel and headed towards the chair where my father’s sword rested. I probably seemed deranged to them, but I needed all the influence I could gather if I was going to take Azazel back. Grasping the hilt firmly, I pulled the sword out of the scabbard, its light overwhelming the entire room the moment the pieces of the Anima Crystallum linked.
“Get the crown,” I gritted between clenched teeth while I fought to control the onslaught of raw magic beating against my being. It was far stronger now than the last time I’d held them.
Every inch of my body went ramrod straight, my head lifting to the ceiling as sweeping golden power engulfed my eyes. The magic of my ancestors beat against me like wild waves against a jagged cliff, fighting me at every turn, but I focused on my innate energy, trying to take control.