Chapter 22

Cyril

"What have you done?" the priest roared, losing control for the first time since Cyril met him. "What have you done?"

Staring at the hatchling Kit now protected with her body, Cyril had a similar question. What the bloody hell happened? How? Why? Why now? Yes along with the two thousands questions and expletives Cyril longed to shout to both his mate and the universe, came another unexpected torrent of emotion.

That was a new life in his mate's arms. A perfect, precious little dragon who Cyril already loved unequivocally on a level that was primal rather than rational. A hatchling. Kit's hatchling. Their hatchling. It was no matter that the egg hadn't come from Kit's body, it was connected to her soul. That made it hers. Theirs. A responsibility that made the sigil on Cyril's finger feel feather light in comparison.

Cyril loved the pup. And he hated that it had hatched here, in this hell hole.

"You've cost me an egg, you scaled cunt." Spittle flew from Emric's mouth, his hand shaking in fury as he reached for the whip at his hip. Cyril strained against the wyrmwood manacles holding his arms pinned high in the air.

Kit's pupils elongated, her scales flaring in shades of deep red that anyone with half a brain knew to be cautious of. Cyril stared at her, the bond between them vibrating with energy.

"You think this a game? Even your mother had known better. Had understood. But you, you think you can toy with me? That my patience has no limits?"

"Back away," Kit's voice came as a growl Cyril hadn't heard before. Not that way. Just as Kit's pupils no longer resembled that of a fae. He froze. His pain forgotten.

"You think you've gotten one over on me?" Emric shouted, pointing at the hatchling. "No. No, what you've done is sentenced this abomination to be flayed alive."

No! Cyril wrenched his body against the unforgiving shackles. The antidote he'd drunk, his father's final gift to him, filled his veins. But the antidote was made for the wyrm's bane poison, not wyrmwood shackles. It helped, but it wasn't enough.

The priest's whip snapped forward toward the hatchling.

The crack that split the air in the next instant was not from the lash. As Emric's whip sped toward the hatchling, a surge of raw magic erupted from Kit. Her body convulsed, expanding rapidly, reshaping into the grand and formidable creature the world had not seen until now. The scales along her back shimmered in a cascade of iridescent colors, reflecting the dim light into a spectrum across the chamber walls.

With a thunderous roar that shook the ground, Kit unfurled her wings with such force of muscle and primal magic that the very air in the chamber shuddered from it. The blast shook the walls like parchment, tearing the roof from the chamber's tall dome.

Stars. It was going to fall. The whole place was about to fall on their heads.

The magic from Kit's transformation hit Cyril in the chest and vibrated through the bond, stunning him with the sudden surge of power. Of raw, uncontrolled magic. The wyrmwood bands flared to counter the power, but even they were not strong enough to stand against the tsunami that Kit had unleashed into the bond. Not with the antidote flowing through Cyril's veins. An antidote that had not worked on its own, but together with the power boost, had now given Cyril some access to his magic.

Emric shouted in terror.

Cyril drew Kit's power into his veins, summoning all the centuries of training and control into this one vital moment. He could not move his hands, but a magic shield erupted from him nonetheless, summoned by Cyril's will and mind alone. He threw a shield up with his mind. At once, a hard dome of shimmering magic formed around them, protecting his mate, hatchling, and eggs from the rain of falling debris.

Emric froze.

Kit's dragon swung her massive head toward the priest.

"You can't—" Emeric started to shout. He never finished the declaration.

Kit's dragon opened her jaws, lined with rows of sharp teeth, and closed with crushing finality around the priest's arm.

There was a wet sound of tearing flesh and snapping bone, before Emric's arm, still clutching the whip, was severed and swallowed.

The priest howled, his concentration destroyed along with his arm. Cyril's wyrmwood manacles released his arms from the air.

Cyril flexed his fingers, feeling a tingling sensation as if waking from a long slumber and wrapped his hand around the first manacle. Gripping the wyrmwood sent a surge of agony through him. But he could fight through the pain. With his father's antidote and Kit's power, he would. The wood creaked. Flexed.

Then the once untouchable bracelet frayed under the strain, the wood groaning until small cracks appeared all along its surface. Cyril's muscles bulged under the effort, veins standing out against his skin. The first band shattered. The pieces of enchanted wood clattered to the stone floor, their magic extinguished as Cyril's full power and control flowed back into him. The second bracelet was off in a moment .

Cyril roared with the full power of his returned magic.

Kit's dragon turned about. She was smaller than Cyril's dragon would be, but the tips of her wings still brushed against the chamber walls, causing small cracks to spiderweb across the stone.

On the floor, Emric was attempting to draw something with his left hand, using his own blood as ink.

Reaching him in one stride, Cyril unsheathed Emric's own dagger and severed his remaining wrist. "No more claws for you, Priest," Cyril snarled.

Emric whimpered.

Up above in the suddenly open sky, a pack of three orange scaled dragons burst through the clouds and circled toward the open chamber. Darren's pack.

"Ready to go, nymph?" Cyril turned to his mate, extending an open palm.

The iridescent dragon blinked her large eyes in recognition that was primal, but not fully aware. She was Kit, yet not just Kit. She was a dragon of legend, a rebirth of ancient magic and raw strength. Power crackled along her scales.

"We should—" Cyril did not get to finish his sentence. Kit's dragon scooped the hatchling and eggs up into her talons and launched herself into the skies.