CHAPTER 49

SLADE

More Vulmin arrive in Lydia ahead of Wick's estimation. A collection of fae who have traveled from all over Annwyn. And each one of them bears the mark of their cause: a broken-winged bird sigil worn boldly on their bodies.

This influx has made more citizens of Lydia brave the streets, curiosity and a demand to know what's happening to their city overcoming their fear of the rumored dragon running rampant.

Everyone has gathered outside our building, demanding answers.

"This seems tentative," Auren murmurs beside me as we look down from the balcony to the street below. "They could turn on each other."

"They could," I agree as I watch Wick.

The minute we were informed of a crowd gathering outside, the Vulmin leader went out to the street to meet everyone. He's on the ground with them, standing on the stoop. More fae have gathered upon the rooftops and the branched walkways of the twisting trees, and every building within sight is also filled to the brim with fae watching and listening out of open windows. I even notice Hare and Fang down there in the throng.

"The anti-Turley and Vulmin propaganda has instilled some deep-seated mistrust. I'm surprised the Lydians are even standing here listening to him. What if someone attacks?"

My lips twitch. "They won't."

"How do you know?"

I look at her pointedly.

"Oh, right. No one would dare attack with you standing here since they're worried you'll manifest a dragon," she says with a smirk.

But I shake my head. "I wasn't talking about me."

" Me ?" she says in surprise.

"Yes, you. Look at them," I say, stepping behind her slightly. "See how the Vulmin keep stealing looks your way? They fucking worship you. None of them would stand for you to be hurt. Every Vulmin guard down there is watching the crowd with a very keen eye, and every new Vulmin that's arrived can't stop staring. And Goldfinch, they heard what you did. You chased away the king . They know how powerful you are. They wouldn't dare attack."

The most endearing flush darkens her cheeks while Wick's voice drags on in the background as he answers question after question from people in the crowd.

"Oh," she says, turning back around.

I reach down to squeeze her hand. "Yes. Oh ."

"The most important thing is that Lydia is safe!" Wick calls out. "The Vulmin aren't enemies to Annwyn. We aren't your enemies. We are against the very violence that the crown has been doling out."

"The king said you're all traitors!" an older fae male shouts from an open window across the street, his face wrung out with wrinkles.

Wick shakes his head. "The Carricks are the ones who betrayed our world. Since wearing the crown, they have done nothing but reach for more power, more control. They have raised our taxes, taken our homes, demanded our fealty, spread hate toward our fellow fae and Oreans who have done nothing but exist. And the Stone King has drafted every available fae for a war to invade, without even telling his own people that's what he was doing!"

The Lydians glance around with frowns and confusion that Wick latches onto.

"Yes. The Stone King has drafted our people into an invasion of Orea ."

Voices blot out the silence in patches strewn around the street. People denying his words, arguing, asking questions, reacting with anger or shock or challenge.

"It's true!" Wick declares. "Carrick is more than willing to sacrifice our lives for his greed for more power, with a war we did not agree to. He has to be stopped!"

"Ly?ri!" one of the Vulmin suddenly yells. "I want to hear from the Ly?ri Ulvêre!"

The crowd goes quiet, every eye swinging up to her, and Auren stiffens beside me. Though they can't see it, I watch the way her aura flits about anxiously, the golden light and thin tendrils of black darting around her with the flare of her quickened pulse.

"You can do this," I murmur at her side.

Behind the railing, her ribbons twist along the floor of the balcony, but the people don't see that or hear the way she takes a steadying breath. She keeps her expression perfectly calm, and pride fills me as I watch her step forward with her head held high.

"Ly?ri Ulvêre," she repeats, eyes casting over the crowd. "Golden one gone, you called me. But I think you can see that I'm not gone anymore," she says with a warm smile. "And while I haven't been back for very long, during my time here, I've been hunted, hated, threatened, attacked, imprisoned, and impersonated. I have done nothing wrong. King Carrick had my parents killed. Wanted me killed, even when I was only a girl, which is how I ended up in Orea for most of my life."

Whispers scatter like rolled dice.

Auren's voice grows stronger. Her demeanor more sure and confident. My pride swells at watching her.

"Oreans are not our enemy, and we aren't enemies to each other either," she tells the crowd. "Those are just lies that have been crafted carefully for centuries so that the crown could justify cruelty toward Oreans and, eventually, invade their world. The fighting and hate is needless, and it has to stop before more people are killed."

Nerves no longer twist through her ribbons or make her aura flicker as she speaks. Everyone watches her with rapt attention, and she seems to gleam in the sunlight.

"I stand before you not just as a Turley, but as a fae and an Orean," she says, and I swear everyone on the street looks at her blunt Turley ears. "Wick was right. We can do better. Annwyn can be better . But we have to unite, to come together as people, and it has to start right here and now," she announces. "A new dawn must rise."

The Vulmin below grip their pins or buttons or stitchings with their sigil and hold them up. "Dawn's bird!" they chant. More voices join in, repeating the meaning for their symbol—that even a broken-winged bird will rise like the sun.

The truth of that shines out as Auren stands here.

Even if my father had never taught me a single thing about the Turleys, had wiped them away from importance like so many other Carrick followers, I wish I would have known enough to put two and two together. Wish I would have known the significance of her golden skin. Because the first time I saw her, I knew she was extraordinary. And seeing her here and now, it's so obvious what she is.

A queen. Gold-touched and blood-blessed. And for some reason, paired with me.

She steps back and takes my hand again, her fingers immediately twisting through mine and holding us together. She looks over at me as the people chant and clap and cheer.

"You are magnificent," I tell her.

Her pulse quickens. "I'm just me."

I nod. "Yes."

Exactly.

Her eyes soften, fingers squeezing again, and all I want to do is pull her in close and have her to myself, but that's not how it is anymore, is it? Auren isn't just mine. She's found a place with all of these fae. They look up to her. Stand in awe of her. She means something to everyone on this street. Her very presence impacting them.

I'm so fucking proud of her.

Things start to die down, the coldness between Lydians and Vulmin seeming to warm up purely by Auren's glowing presence until things seem not quite so tentative anymore.

I relax a bit, but only for a split second. Because my mind drifts to my mother. It's a constant worry that gnaws on my gut. I feel my expression pinch, and Auren notices instantly.

"Are you okay?" she asks quietly, but then she seems to read the answer in my eyes, and her own expression turns determined.

"Let's go," she says. "We should be able to get through the crowd now. We'll have Wick show us where the Oreans are. We'll go talk to them and see if they have any information about Elore."

I nod and take in a tight breath. Just the thought of my mother being in my father's clutches makes a cold sweat break out over my skin. I need to find her and get her safe. I can't stand to think about what she might be enduring.

"My father is a fucking snake," I say as we both turn to go inside. "He'll be keeping her close."

"We'll find her," she promises, her voice steely.

I nod and press a kiss to the top of her head. "We will."

And this time, I won't have to rip into the world or rip myself. My father will be the one ripped apart.

"His eye," she begins. "I meant to tell you—I think you rotted it."

I pause, looking over at her. "His eye?"

She nods, a wicked smirk curling her lips. "Yep. He wears a patch over it, but I think you must've rotted it partially all those years ago when you fought. I could see the veins."

"Good," I growl, feeling a hint of satisfaction. He probably hated that I was able to do that to him. That it destroyed part of his face. "The next time I see him, I won't just rot one of his eyes. I'll crush his fucking skull."

Her ribbon grazes over my arm in comfort as we head for the staircase. The Vulmin inside stop and tip their heads as we pass, and Auren offers them a smile.

When we get to the stairs, she glances over at me. "Do you think everyone was able to stop the fae army at Ranhold?"

"I don't know for certain," I answer honestly. "But I stopped a lot of them, and King Thold's magic is impressive. He's formidable, so King Fulke wouldn't dare deny him. Fifth has a good-sized army too. With Lu, Judd, and Digby there, I'm sure they were able to prepare Fifth and stop the fae in their tracks."

Her head whips over. " Digby went with them? To Ranhold?"

I pause. "Did I forget to mention that?"

"Yes. You did," she says, voice taking on a nervous edge. "But it's dangerous. And he was badly hurt…"

"He's healed, and it was important to him. When he heard what the army did to Highbell, he was fucking devastated. I couldn't deny him the right to go help."

She lets out a sigh. "Of course he wanted to go." She pauses. "What about Queen Kaila? Do you think she showed up to help them?"

"I told her what would happen if she didn't."

Auren hums. "I'm surprised you didn't kill her."

"Despite what I told her, I will kill her. Gladly. You just say the word."

"No. You were right to let her go. Killing her would've only divided Orea more. Three kingdoms are already in turmoil. You needed her alive to help fight this war."

"And she'd better be fucking fighting," I say. "But if not, I'll deal with her."

After we deal with everything here.

I brace myself to go see the Drollard villagers. To come face to face with the torment they've suffered since they got here…and for what they might say about my mother.

Auren stops at the bottom of the stairs and looks over. She's so incredibly attuned to me. "We will get her back, Slade," she reassures me again. Just like she has multiple times, because she knows how heavily this is weighing on my mind. "Nothing will stop us."

My chest goes warm at her protective vehemence. At how fierce she is on my mother's behalf. "I know."

We go through the corridor, aiming for the entry that serves as the storefront. When we get to the front door and walk out, the street is still busy, but Wick's been able to move and is talking with people in smaller groups. Other Vulmin appear to be doing the same.

As we make our way onto the road, the crowd parts, people murmuring Turley and Ly?ri and dragon as we go. I watch everyone like a hawk, but they keep a respectful distance from Auren, though I still keep my guard up, my protectiveness urged on by the pair bond.

Her ribbons trail behind her like the fabric of a gown, though they twist and twirl, lifting around her—and me. One of them is always touching me.

I smirk down at one as it wraps itself around my wrist, tugging me closer. I watch her ribbons, watch her, seeing her smiling at the fae and them smiling back. Seeing the reverence in their eyes and the way this land seems to glow around her. It makes my heart full—and makes my heart hurt.

Because this is where she belongs.

She was always glorious, but here in Annwyn, it's as if her soul sings, lit up by the sun and gleaming from the inside out. People in Orea either wanted to exploit her or suppress her. But seeing her here, this is where she fits .

She deserves to breathe in the air of home, to walk amongst fae who are in awe of her. She deserves to have the land sing just from her presence, and the sun stream down upon her gilded skin.

Auren was always too bright for Orea.

When you're surrounded by jealous shadows, all they want to do is put you out.

But she didn't succumb. Against all fucking odds. Against Oreans and fae alike, against monarchs and cruelty, she's here. She's not only survived, but overcome.

And now she burns brighter than ever.

Which means we will have a lot to talk about when this is all over.

Wick notices us as we get closer, so he breaks away to give us his attention. It's strange for me to think that this is Auren's relative. I'm sure it's even stranger for her.

But I watch him like a fucking hawk too.

"We'd like to speak with the Oreans now," Auren tells him. "We need to see if they can tell us anything about Slade's mother."

Wick nods and turns toward the left. "Alright. I'll take you to the house they're staying at. It's just down—"

"Wick!"

We're interrupted by a Vulmin running down the street. He squeezes past people, forehead slicked in sweat. His anxious energy immediately makes me tense as he reaches us. "Stone Swords! They're setting fire to the city!"

Gasps ring out.

"Why would they set fire to our city?" a Lydian cries.

"We should've turned in the Vulmin! It's their fault!"

"But this is the capital! Why would they burn it? They know there are innocents here!"

Wick jumps up onto a house's front steps to shout across the crowd before they grow too frenzied. "King Carrick doesn't care about innocents. He's willing to sacrifice everyone here. This is why we need to come together! No more Vulmin against fellow fae! We are all people of Annwyn, and we will not let a tyrannical monarch destroy us! It's time to work together!"

His proclamation seems to catch, the doubters and naysayers quieting.

"Make sure all the children and infirm are taken to the canals! Bring only supplies that you can carry and go downstream." His gaze casts across the street. "Any Vulmin or Lydian willing to fight or deal with the flames, come with me!"

We race with Wick down the street, and people either join us or rush toward buildings and boats. He knows the way, taking us down different bridges and walkways, heading for the entrance of the city as more fae come with us to help.

"Is the king with them?" Wick asks the Vulmin.

"No. I heard them say the king went into Orea."

Slade and I exchange a look.

"Make sure everyone is armed!" Wick calls out before he turns to us. "Lydia might be teeming with waterways, but it's also full of trees that can catch and burn."

"Carrick won't burn another city to the ground," Auren replies darkly.

I know she's thinking of Bryol. Of what they did to her home, her parents. She won't let it happen here.

Wick looks at her as we hurry over a covered bridge. Throngs of knitted smoke are now weaving into the air in thick sheets. People are running away, and others are jumping into the canals. There's shouting and fighting ahead.

A Vulmin rushes over, his face streaked in ash, breath coming in coughing spurts.

"How many soldiers?" Wick asks him.

"So far, two hundred strong. I don't know if there are more coming. They've got magicked fire-users too."

A grim look crosses Wick's face as he pulls out his sword. "Enough to take a city that has no outer walls, no towers, no defensive protections whatsoever…"

But Auren shakes her head. "No. They can't retake the city. Not with us here. They don't stand a chance."

Wick blinks over at her, as if he's suddenly remembered her power and my own.

We turn the corner around a bricked building, and then we stop to take everything in. The city's arch is barely visible through the smoke. There are Stone Swords gripping torches and swords, fighting Vulmin and lighting up anything the flames are willing to devour.

I spot two soldiers using fire magic—one that blows out a thick stream of blue flame, and another who tosses sparks from his hands.

Above us, animals and birds stream from the trees that have caught fire, the flames spreading up the plaited branches and licking down the leaves. Already, the fire is polluting everything with heat and smoke, and starting to consume several buildings closest to the entrance.

I can feel Auren's anger prying open and showing its teeth. It makes her aura burn deeper.

"The fire is spreading fast!" the Vulmin says, yanking up his shirt to cover his mouth in order to block the fumes.

"Anyone with water magic?" Wick asks.

"You don't need water magic. You have me," Auren tells him.

Pride fills my chest at the ferocity of her words.

Gold starts flowing from her hands and gathering thickly at the ground, thin veins of black rot branching through it. She lets it pool, and the fae with us back up, eyeing her with amazement.

Stone Swords across the way spot Auren. "There's the gilded Turley!" one of them shouts, and the fire-breathing fae steps forward. "King Carrick wants her burned alive!"

Burned alive?

As soon as I hear those words, my dragon tears free.

No warning. No build up.

The threat made to Auren makes the manifestation happen with an intense suddenness that yanks the breath from my chest as shadows surge out of me.

The dragon forms, body rippling as it solidifies with wicked teeth and curved spikes, and golden scales gleaming down its chest.

It's massive and it's fucking pissed .

Auren doesn't move an inch as it solidifies, but Wick and the others cry out in shock and leap out of the way.

When the dragon's mouth opens with a furious roar, Auren sends her gold rushing out. The terrified Stone Swords take one look at the dragon and her power and turn to flee.

But her gold is faster.

Like a mudslide, it floods the ground before rising and crashing over the soldiers like a tempestuous sea. They're knocked down and trapped beneath its hardening weight, their screams louder than the snapping teeth of the flames.

She controls her power flawlessly and with astonishing ease. It goes after every soldier, while avoiding everyone else. With precision, she also drags it up like spreads of paint, stretching up the buildings and into the trees to douse the flames.

Fucking magnificent.

She turns to me, hands still outstretched, still pouring with power. "I've got it here. Can you go take care of the soldiers outside?"

A dark grin twists my lips. "Absolutely."

While my aggravated bond wants me to protect her, I also recognize how fucking strong she is, and how much she needs me to acknowledge that strength. How it will empower her even more because I have complete confidence in her.

I stroke at her ribbon that's wrapped around my arm before it tugs away, and then I turn toward the dragon, looking it in the eye. The terrifying creature blinks at me with an innate sense of familiarity. Manifested from me, but its own entity.

I use the spikes down its leg to climb up, and the scaled creature rumbles beneath my hold. I settle on its back, right into a notch behind one of the sharp black spikes.

Then we lift into the air. I look down, watching Auren walk calmly forward, her magic eating up every enemy in her wake as gold seeps over the flames, snuffing out the fire with its viscous spread.

The king thought he could burn down this city? Burn her?

She burns brighter than anything else ever could.

My dragon lifts higher, snapping branches from the giant trees as it breaks out from the covering and into open air. When it spots the Stone Swords gathering on the road just outside the city, it snarls.

I grin.

The creature swoops down, and soldiers shout and start to flee in terror. Some of them toss magic our way, and flares of sparking light land against the dragon's chest and belly. But it does nothing except bounce off the gilded scales.

That, and angers the dragon even more.

It opens its fanged maw and roars out rot. Like black flame that writhes with roots in a poisonous spew. It descends upon the running soldiers, consuming them in sprays of death.

The dragon flies lower, reveling in the destruction, and I revel with it. After the threat made to Auren, my aggravated bond craves retribution with bloodthirsty demand.

It swoops down with another air-splintering roar, opening its mouth to spread carnage. The Stone Swords fall, some caught up close, getting so much rot blasted at them that their bodies disintegrate into dust the moment they hit the ground. Others try to run, before their bodies succumb to the noxious fumes and they're left to fester.

We circle, and the monster yanks up the dying, swallowing them down whole. It decimates the entire contingent, turning the ground a sickly yellow, leaving nothing in its radius alive.

Auren comes walking out, stopping just beneath the archway. There's a gold-slicked street behind her, and remnants of smoke in choked-off tendrils rising from the crisped trees.

Fae gather at her back, and my dragon circles once more before we land in front of her. Everyone else backs away, but not her.

She strides confidently forward, stopping right in front of the creature.

I have no fear, and neither does she. Both of us know it won't hurt her. She's as much a part of me as this manifestation is.

Her ribbons curl in front of her armor-clad chest, lifting up to stroke the creature's maw. Everyone seems to hold their breath as it blinks, watching her.

Then the dragon lowers its head as a subject might bow for a queen.

I'm reminded suddenly about what my father said—about how if I manifested a dragon, I would be king of the skies.

But he was wrong.

Because my dragon drops in supplication to her. She's the one who rules, and I couldn't be more fucking proud.

The sight affects the Vulmin and the Lydians too. They all stand in gaping awe, watching this golden Turley stand here, as a dragon, the most ancient of powers, bows to her.

I climb down its back, leaping off the last few feet, my boots kicking up dust from the decayed soil. I go to her, and the two of us share a look before we turn back toward the city's arch.

Where everyone suddenly drops to their knees, repeating one thing.

Ly?ri Nōhcra.

No longer the golden one gone, but…

The golden one who rules .