They were all going to die.
These were the faces I’d seen in the seeress’s final vision, melting in floating petals as her soul slipped away. The noise of the gala faded, replaced by a buzzing in my ears, the rubbing of insect wings—death, preparing to swarm.
I’d only made it a handful of steps. My foot froze in midair.
At the bottom of the staircase, one face stood out from all the others. He was dressed formally in shades of gray and blue that matched his irises, and thin braids had been woven into his golden hair. His lips formed the syllables of my name, brows raised like he wasn’t certain it still fit the girl he was gazing at.
The buzz grew louder until it consumed me. The world faded, until all I could see was the seeress’s vision of Reyker’s bloody face, all I could feel was his soul being ripped away.
My gifts rose up, unbidden. Unbound.
The pitchers on the tables shook as the water inside them spewed up like fountains. A howling wind knocked over glasses, blew out candles, sent guests stumbling. The staircase began to shake. The nails holding it together tore free from the wood, shooting out into the air and raining over the guests like a thousand bits of metal confetti. Gasps and shouts rang out.
The wood gave way under my feet.
CHAPTER 43
LIRA
I pulled as much wind to me as I could, forcing some of the planks to crash into the fortress instead of on the guests below, but I couldn’t divert all of them. Everything was happening too fast—the staircase and balcony were falling, I was falling. I pushed another wave of wood into the fortress wall, but stray pieces landed on the people below.
Reyker caught me before I hit the ground, the force knocking him flat with me sprawled on top of him. Wooden planks tumbled around us, deflected by my shield of wind, and we lay in the middle of the debris. We both coughed and wheezed, trying to get back the breath that had been punched from our lungs by the impact. “What in bloody fates are you doing here?” I asked.
“I was invited.”
“What?” I rolled off him and sat up. “You have to go, Reyker.”
Where was Draki? I didn’t see him. The gala was a cataclysm, with guests and Dragonmen searching beneath piles of wood, pulling out survivors. And corpses.
Reyker rose to his knees beside me. “I’m not leaving without you.”
I drew back and looked at him. My hands slid up his arms, over his shoulders, ensuring he was real. “You came for me.”
“Did you think I wouldn’t?” He tilted his head, searching my face. His fingers grazed my warrior-mark, showing me it changed nothing. “As long as there is life left in me, I will always come for you.”
“Brother.” Draki was suddenly there, looming over us, an effigy carved from ice. “Thank you for protecting my consort, but I will take over from here.”
Guests and servants and Dragonmen idled in the background, waiting to see what would happen. I was the Dragon’s chosen consort, and I was kneeling in front of him, surrounded by the balcony I’d destroyed, embracing his brother.
“Come to me, Lira.”
“Don’t.” Reyker tensed, reaching for his sword out of habit, but the guests had been forced to disarm before entering the gala. Only the Dragonmen carried weapons. “Not again, Lira. Stay with me.”
Little warrior, Draki said, speaking inside my mind. You will do as I say, or I will be forced to punish him for your disobedience.
“I have to,” I whispered. “I’m sorry.” I let go of Reyker and went to the Dragon.
Draki wrapped his arm around my waist. Reyker and I were separated by only a few paces, yet it was like we were back on different ships, drifting farther apart.
“I am grateful my brother could be here on this eventful evening, as I name Jarl Lira of Drakin my consort. You have seen her display a fraction of the power she possesses. She will combine her powers with my own, and together we will ensure the dominance of Iseneld, seat of the Empire of the Dragon, center of the conquered world.”
Despite the wrecked balcony, and a handful of injured and dead guests, the ceremony commenced. There were scattered cheers and whistles in the crowd, as if nothing strange had happened. Servants brought goblets to those not holding one already. I felt the stem of a glass slipped between my fingers. The wine sloshed in my trembling hand.
This was life with Draki—violence and death were an ordinary occurrence.
“Lira.”
Speak the words.
I’d come this far. There was no turning back.
The speech Draki made me memorize filled my head, spilling from my mouth like vomit: “In front of these witnesses, these esteemed guests, I make my pronouncement. I, Jarl Lira, declare myself your consort, Emperor Dragon. I commit myself to you. All my earthly possessions are yours. My power is yours. I am a weapon to be wielded for the glory of Iseneld.”
I’d avoided Reyker’s gaze as long as I could, but I looked at him now. He was stunned, a wild animal caught in a hunter’s snare.
This was why Draki invited Reyker tonight. To taunt and torment and humiliate him, in front of anyone who might consider allying with the Dragon’s brother. A show of force, to convince Reyker and the rest of them who was truly in control of Iseneld. And I was helping him do it.
Say the last line, or I will break him.
I wanted to live. I wanted Reyker to live. I did not want to belong to the Dragon.
I could not have all three of these things.
“I give myself wholly and willingly,” I said. “My heart, my soul, and my body belong only to you, Emperor Dragon.”
One of Draki’s commanders whooped with glee, raising his goblet in a toast, and others followed suit, drinking to our union. My goblet slipped from my fingers and crashed to the ground, a maroon puddle spreading across the dirt. Draki tipped my chin up, his mouth descending on mine to seal the promise I’d made.
“Lies!” Reyker dove at the nearest Dragonman, stealing his sword before anyone could stop him. “Jarl Lira is an illusion. She is Lira of Glasnith, and she is no one’s possession. She speaks your words under duress. You hold her homeland and her brother hostage, you use the love she and I share to control us.”
A hundred Dragonmen circled closer, weapons raised, but Draki waved them off. He glanced at me, and asked somberly, “Is this true, Lira?”
Deny him, or I will chain him to the floor of our bedchamber and make him watch you consummate your pledge.
“No!” I shook so violently, only Draki’s arm around my waist kept me on my feet. “He is mistaken. I feel nothing for Reyker Lagorsson. He means nothing to me.”