CHAPTER 50

AUREN TURLEY

The veneration coming from the fae is both exhilarating and intense. My ire from the threat of the flames and the Stone Swords bleeds away, and in its place is this display that I'm not sure what to do with. Plenty of people have wanted me to bow to them, but I've never wanted anyone to bow to me.

I definitely never expected a dragon to do it.

"Nōhcra," I say to Slade. "What does that mean?"

"My old fae is rusty, but I believe Nōhcir is to rule."

My heart skips as I look over at him, my brows pulling into a frown.

His dark green eyes meet mine. "Ly?ri Nōhcra—the golden one rules."

My gaze jumps from him to them and back again. "To rule ? I'm not a queen."

"And yet…they bow to you."

I swallow hard, nerves pinching throughout my stomach. I'm not sure what to say to them.

Slade presses his hand at my back, his touch trailing over my ribbons. "I'm going to take the dragon around once more. Make sure I didn't miss anyone further down the road. If I did, I can question them."

Turning, I leap at the chance. "I'll go with you."

His black brows lift in surprise. "Don't you want to speak with them?" he asks.

"Not yet," I admit.

"You're sure?"

I nod. "Yes. Besides, you think I'd miss my chance at riding a dragon? No way, Lord Rot."

I turn back to the monstrous dragon. It stands fifty feet tall at least, its scales as dark as a pitch-black night, except for the gilded ones that scrape up its chest. It's the same color as the one over Slade's heart. The same color as the one at my neck.

Its iridescent eye blinks at me, a low noise rumbling from its chest that makes me stop. "It won't hurt you," Slade says quietly.

"I know."

I lift my hand slowly, watching the beast watch me. Then I gently place my palm against its snout. It thrums with power. With darkness and death. But it thrums with the familiarity of Slade too. Terrifying and comforting all at the same time.

"He feels like you," I murmur, glancing over at Slade. He's watching me, not the dragon, and the look in his eyes makes my breath hold still, stuck in place. He looks at me like I've hung the sun in the sky.

"From what I understand, dragons manifest from power and soul. So it will feel like me…just as it also feels like you, because our souls are rooted together."

I drop my hand to turn around. "So what you're saying is, this is your dragon…but it's also kind of my dragon," I say with a playful smirk.

He drags his hand over the top curve of my ass and then taps playfully. "That's exactly what I'm saying. Now get on, Goldfinch, and let's fly."

I spin around in excitement, and Slade offers me his hand to help me up. I brace my feet and start to climb the spikes. The dragon puts its leg out straighter, as if to help me, and then Slade follows. We settle on its arched back, and I grip the spike in front of me as Slade sits right behind me.

He puts his hands at my waist, squeezing. "Hold on."

I take a breath, and then we're in the air. Powerful reptilian wings stretch out and take us up higher and higher. The fae gathered below wave and cheer as we lift into the sky.

My stomach dips even as my heart soars.

"This is incredible!" I shout back to Slade, my ribbons curled between us.

My back rests against his chest, and feeling his solid, warm presence behind me is a comfort all its own.

" You were incredible," he says in my ear, making butterflies swarm in my stomach.

"So were you."

One of his hands comes around me, pressing against my abdomen. I lean into his embrace, letting myself take a breath, letting the tension melt out of my muscles.

I watch the dragon's shadow as we fly over the land below, taking in the contrast of rotted land and lush greenery.

"Is it strange? For you to be back here?" I ask as the wind whips past us.

The dragon circles wider, taking us higher, as if it knows we need a moment alone.

"It is," Slade admits. "But it's also not."

"I know exactly what you mean."

From this vantage point, I have a much clearer view of just how many soldiers the dragon decimated. "I don't see any survivors."

"No," he agrees. "The dragon was pretty fucking thorough."

"Wait until the others see your dragon," I say with a grin. "Judd is going to be the first one to ask for a ride."

Slade chuckles and I feel his amusement rumble through my back. "I have a feeling this creature will only ever tolerate you and me."

"Judd will be very disappointed."

"So long as I never disappoint you , Goldfinch."

"You never could," I reply before looking back at him teasingly. "And I'll tell you a secret."

His eyebrow cocks up, waiting.

"I've always loved hearing you call me Goldfinch."

His hand tightens around me while his eyes soften, gaze delving into me with meaning. "Believe me . Being able to call you Goldfinch means more to me than you know."

My lips curve into a smile, and he presses a kiss against my temple before I turn back around.

I move my gaze over to the plateau where Glassworth Palace sits. Then my eyes skim just to the left of it, where a row of blocks are set into the side of the cliff.

"That's where the underground dungeons are," I say, pointing. "Where I was kept."

I feel more than hear him growl, but then his dragon growls too, and I definitely hear that .

My hand comes down to his thigh that's pressing against mine. "I'm okay," I tell him. "I made it."

"Yeah, you did. I'm fucking proud of you, Goldfinch. For all of it."

I'm proud of me too.

I eye the green blocks set into the cliffs—the same green as Slade's eyes. That block fed light into my cell like a barred window, though now, I can see just how thick and deep the slab is. I shudder as I remember what it felt like to be trapped on the other side of it.

One king caged my body. Another tried to cage my mind. The first is dead by my hand, and the second is due for a reckoning.

He'll get what's coming to him.

Dark satisfaction settles in my chest at the fact that Una's body is rotting inside that dungeon. That her horrible magic can't eat away at anyone else's mind ever again.

"You're not there," Slade soothes, as if he can sense the emotions thrumming through me.

I'm not in Midas's cage. I'm not trapped within the holes of punctured memories. I'm back in Annwyn, reunited with Slade, in total control of my mind and power. And nothing can stop me from making sure we get all of our joy-filled one days , because we deserve it. I deserve it.

After a lifetime of trauma and emotional manipulation and abuse, I have finally healed and grown enough to realize that. To say it to myself.

I deserve happy, and so does Slade.

My heart aches to think of all he's endured. Of what he's still enduring, because until we find his mother, those shadows can't leave his eyes.

But he doesn't have to shoulder these things alone anymore, and neither do I.

That's what I feel the most through our paired connection. A sense of belonging. Cohesion. Devotedness. Love incarnate. A connection that strengthens me from the inside out, but that doesn't surprise me.

Because Slade has been doing that since the moment we met.

The dragon turns from the plateau, passing by the mist of the waterfall. Facing this way, we have a clear view of Glassworth. It looks stunning in this light. Every inch an architectural feat of both labor and magic. Smooth white walls and hundreds, maybe thousands, of stained glass windows casting off an array of colors.

A pretty palace for an ugly king.

And his reign is toppling. I think everyone can feel that the energy of the Vulmin is mounting. Growing. It feels so different from before. They're no longer worried about hiding in the shadows. We're past that now.

Change is coming. It's already begun. We're so close I can taste it.

So close, and yet there's still so much to do.

"We should get back," I say, even though I'd love to be able to fly all day with him. To let day bleed into night and watch the stars salt the sky.

One day.

For now, we need to make sure no one was hurt from the initial fire. Then we need to speak with the Oreans and make a plan to find Elore.

Whatever inherent understanding there is between Slade and the dragon makes the creature start to turn back around to head for Lydia. But something catches my eye at the palace.

"Wait, what is that?" I point ahead, and I can feel Slade turn to look in that direction too. I frown, squinting. "Are those soldiers?"

He pauses. "It does look like soldiers coming out from the gates."

I turn to look at him over my shoulder. "Do you think King Carrick is there instead of Orea? That he's sending those soldiers down to Lydia?"

"Seems bold when they can clearly see a dragon in the fucking sky."

"Believe me, Carrick is arrogant enough to do it," I reply. "Let's get a closer look so we know what we're dealing with."

Slade's dragon changes trajectory, devouring the distance with every beat of its wings. We follow the road that leads up the steep path to the plateau, right up to the palace gate.

My attention is locked on the gathering of soldiers I can see just outside, but I frown when I realize something is off about them, though I can't put my finger on what.

Magic crackles through the air suddenly, and a second later, something shoots up, aiming toward us like a razor-sharp bolt of glass.

"They're attacking!" I cry.

We bank to the left, and the sharp arrow zips by. I feel a low growl come out of the dragon, the noise traveling all the way up its body and echoing my own anger.

But when I look up, I see the threat wasn't done.

The sharp bolt is arcing back down, aiming for us again. Before it can strike us, I lift my hand, and a stretch of gold releases in a wave.

The liquid metal wraps around the weapon, and I feel the tug of power, feel whoever is controlling this projectile trying to fight against me.

It doesn't work.

My magic turns the bolt solid gold, giving me full control, and I send it falling to the ground.

My ribbons twist around my torso while I palm more gold, ready in case another one of those magical arrows tries to hit us again.

Anger radiates from the dragon and it flies down lower, a roar building in its throat, ready to rot them all through.

We're so close to the palace now that I can see all the different colors feeding in from the windows. I can see the decorative gate in front of it, see the soldiers gathered…

And then it clicks. Why something looked off.

It's because these soldiers aren't Stone Swords.

I jerk my head over my shoulder just as the dragon opens its mouth and starts roaring out power to strike the soldiers below.

"Slade! Those aren't Stone Swords! Those are—"

Snap .

The sound is so awful it makes me physically recoil.

The main bone of the dragon's wing breaks, and we start to fall. Its spewed rot chokes off, its roar turning into a scream. Behind me, Slade jolts and goes stiff.

"Hold on!" he shouts, though his voice sounds strained.

His hands lash out clumsily, and he wraps his arms around me and the spike I cling to, trying to keep me stable.

I reach out on either side of the plummeting dragon, forcing out gold as fast as I can. "Come on, come on," I say, teeth gritted, fear pumping through my veins as wind blows and the ground rushes up.

It's not enough, not for how big this dragon is. But the gold I manage to pour out comes together in a viscid wave. It stretches up, bracing against the ground, just barely solidified enough to catch us and break the worst of our fall.

We crash into it, and my head knocks against the dragon's spike as the liquid metal splashes around us on impact.

The dragon roars out in pain from its wing, and Slade picks me up and leaps off the back of the beast. He sets me down on the ground and then puts his arm in front of me protectively as a growl tears from his throat.

We're surrounded by soldiers.

But not a single one of them wears the Stone Sword armor. No, they're in red and black, and I've fought them before. Because these are Cull's guards.

Slade's father is here.