Chapter 4

KLARA

Like a shadow of the night, Zaridan moved. She prowled closer, surprisingly graceful for a creature so large. The weight of her limbs shook the earth, small little quakes that ratcheted up my heartbeat.

When I’d woken this morning, I hadn’t thought it was a possibility that I could die this night. But looking into the golden, glowing orbs of a dragon’s eyes, feeling the heat radiating off of her like a furnace, and inhaling the warm air of her breaths, the space between us shared…now it was a very high possibility. Perhaps even likely.

“Klara, get back,” I heard Dannik order in a voice he very rarely used. The voice of a king, unyielding and cold.

“To interfere would mean your life, Dakkari,” came a female’s voice, one of Sarkin’s riders. Zaridan whipped her head to regard my brother, a warning growl rumbling in her throat. Behind her, a mighty tail, spiked like a sword, thumped into the ground, making me jump.

Panic flooded me.

“Stay away. Trust in me, Dannik,” I called out, my voice shaking, my hand trembling when I raised it. I couldn’t see my brother, but at my voice, Zaridan slowly returned her focus to me, and I felt some of my nerves leave. I took a step forward. Then another. Then another, drawing myself away from the others, from my family.

I continued walking until Zaridan was at my back and the night was swallowing me up. I felt her begin to prowl behind me, sniffing the air, the sounds of her scales rustling together like leaves in the harvest season as they blew violently with the winds.

My heart was a caged little monster, beating against bones. I thought of the archives, of the smell of parchment. I thought of the wildlands, those moments of quiet when I snuck through the gates, when I could be free, when I knew no one was watching, no one was whispering, when I felt like I could breathe.

I let out a sharp exhale just as the dragon at my back did, so hot it felt like fire, and the scar down my face throbbed as I gritted my teeth.

“Why did you do this to me?” I whispered to her.

Another rough exhale.

Zaridan shook the earth as she circled. As she passed at my side, I regarded her. The long muscled sleekness of her body was like a serpent’s, her obsidian scales gleaming even in darkness. An unyielding harness was strapped to her body, secured in the notches of the joints of her wings. It was decorated in silver, eye catching yet well worn.

Behind me, I heard footsteps. He’d followed. When Sarkin’s own heat was at my back, I felt him wrap his hand just underneath my throat, his grip loose. He tilted my chin back.

“Look into her eyes so she might see you, aralye ,” he commanded me. He smelled like her, I realized. Of beautiful earth. “So she might know you again.”

Again? I thought, the world swirling.

My eyes connected with Zaridan’s. I saw the black pupils narrow until they became like slits. The gold in her eyes danced like flames, and I felt Sarkin’s thumb caress the spot on my neck where my heartbeat was thumping wildly. Over and over, back and forth.

Then something strange happened. The repetitive brush of his calloused thumb made my heartbeat slow. I began to time my breaths with his touch as Zaridan studied me, as she thumped the ground with her limbs and tail. I sensed the restlessness building in her, a ball of energy that was beginning to grow. I saw her scales begin to move, creating a rustling murmur that sounded almost like a voice.

No, a song .

A beautiful, ethereal song.

Behind me, Sarkin murmured, “ Sy’asha .”

There was quiet awe in his tone.

I felt a calmness descend through my body. The smell of her and Sarkin, the light wind of the wildlands stroking through my hair like fingers, winds that my ancestors had once felt drift over their own cheeks, and the sound of that song filling me…this moment felt like a piece of fate slotting into place.

I didn’t understand it. It felt so pure, so destined that I felt palpable fear take root in my chest, gripping me tight. I began to realize that I knew nothing at all.

Zaridan reared her head back, but instead of unleashing the red fog, she roared to the night sky, so loud and thunderous that it shook my bones. For a moment, the night seemed to blacken further, and I wondered if even the stars were trying to hide from such a fearsome creature.

Sarkin released me. He circled me just as Zaridan had done, and when he stood in front of me, all I saw was him and looming golden eyes of the shadowed dragon behind him.

His hand brushed my hair back. I felt him trace the curling edges of the scar on my face.

I couldn’t read the reticent expression on his face. It was both perplexed yet resigned.

“Very well. It will be you, then,” came the softly clipped words. I caught an unmistakable edge of disappointment. “For reasons I cannot see.”

I was already beginning to shake my head, panic rising. There must be some other way, I thought.

“Say your goodbyes to your family and your homeland, wife,” Sarkin ordered, his hand sliding away from my face, already beginning to walk back to his riders. “We leave for Karak at dawn.”

Shock rooted me into place like a tree, sinking me deep until I wondered if our goddess’ earth could just swallow me up entirely.

“And Klara,” Sarkin said behind me, “I advise you not to try to run before then.”

The dragon huffed out a sharp breath, her scales rustling, though they no longer made her song.

“Zaridan has your scent now,” he told me. “There is no where we will not find you.”