Page 1 of Soul of Fire

Prologue

Thedarknessconsumesall.

Ends all.

Conquers all.

It is the beginning and the end of all worlds and all creation.

Only one with a soul of fire can hope to stand against it.

—The Book of Chaos

Chapter one

Eisa

Idunnlandedwithacrack on the flagstones of the weather-beaten road, releasing her hold on our body with a speed and a certainty that left me stumbling.

We must have flown for at least twelve hours, although I’d lost count over the seemingly endless sea, and my entire body felt like it had been through a meat grinder. I wiped the blood from my nose that had become as routine after shifting as the wave of nausea that washed over me.

At least I’d mastered the urge to vomit.

“Where are we?” Branka’s dark, supple skin replaced the golden scales of her dragon, Bryndis, as quickly as my own. She looked around unimpressed. “This is the capital?”

“No.” Arik had shifted from Baldur’s shining white scales, and I felt Idunn purr appreciatively in my chest at the sight of him all tattooed and scarred and naked.

He gave me a look that I knew too well, and I hid my blush by ducking down to fish my clothes out of my pack.

“Thank the gods for that,” Branka muttered as she also began to dress. There was no elegant solution to the problem of clothing as a drage, so we all just became rather used to being naked in front of each other. “This place is dismal.”

I had to agree with Branka as I looked around at Arik’s chosen landing spot: itwassomething of a desolate hellscape. It must be around midnight, but the darkness couldn’t hide the scraggly trees sagging under the weight of their own rotten bark. Mist poured over the gray fields and down the side of the cliff behind us, and the sea crashed uneasily, as if equally dismayed by the scenery.

Arik pressed a kiss to my temple and threw a cloak over my shoulders. I looked up at him, my mate who I had resisted claiming, even after our souls had joined as one.

The corner of his mouth twitched in what I knew now was his private smile.

Clothes, Kjære.The endearment echoed across the moonlit bridge that joined our minds and sent a wave of heat licking up my spine.

“So why are we here, exactly?” Jorgen asked, breaking the spell between us as surely as an attack by a pack of garmr.

Arik didn’t reply as he pulled on his trousers, his eyes firmly on me. He gave me a meaningful look at the cloak that was my only protection against the wind.

Do you need help dressing, Kjære?The suggestion in his voice made me blush as I pulled on leather trousers under the cloak, the thighs and shins reinforced with that overlapping dragon scale pattern that I’d admired when I first met my mate.

Every movement made my shoulders ache. My jacket posed a particularly challenging obstacle as I winced through my discomfort.

As you can see, I’ve managed.

You’re about to keel over where you stand,Arik drawled into my mind as he dressed. Baldur agreed, a surge of protectiveness flooding our bond.

I just told you I’m fine, you overgrown mother hens.

I could fly for hours more,Idunn added indignantly as I sat on a rock to lace my boots, my jacket finally—and painfully—in place.

Perhaps, Baldur replied, his growling voice full of amusement.But we should keep your human in one piece if we can, Kjære.

Arik caught my arm as I swayed. His heat wrapped me in warmth as I steadied myself against his broad chest.Hours, huh?