Page 107 of Wings of Ice and Steel

Nieve smiled. ‘I—'

Crash. The door fell open and four, six, eight guards all charged into the room, armour clattering as their eyes took in the scene before them. There was no more time—it was now or never.

Ariadnne spun on her heel.

She released Nieve’s hand, hauling herself through the window and flinging herself free.

Rain lashed her body as it struggled, desperate, to change, wind tugging at every limb. The rocks loomed closer with every second, every jagged peak taunting her. Her dragon was faint; the dragonsbane had sent it into a deep and dreamless slumber. Ariadnne screamed into the void it inhabited and dug her talons into its hide. She wouldn’t fail. Not now. Not when they were so close.

Shrieking and snarling she dragged her dragon from its sleep, forcing it into her body like a hand into a glove, and slowly—too slowly—it took.

Wings erupted. Beautiful, essential, life-saving wings that swept downward in a powerful stroke as her body exploded into sinuous scales.

Thud. A weight landed on her back; a scrambling weight that scrabbled to cling to the rain-slicked ridge of her spine.

Thump. A second. Another body that kicked and clawed till it found purchase between her spines. She waited. There should be another… any minute there would be another. Her wings strained to hold her in place. The sea spraying against her belly and threatening to send a wave large enough to drag her under.

Nothing. The third person never fell. Or never landed. Ariadnne’s eyes swirled black and she tugged on her bond to reassure herself that Nieve was there. Nieve was safe. There was an answering icy touch on her scales. She closed her eyes, only for them to shoot open as the klaxon call to arms sounded.

She could wait no more.

Her dragon heart roared as her wings swept toward the sky.

Let them come. She was ready.

Epilogue

Sol

Salted ocean spray filled the breeze, lifting the hairs of Sol’s arms as he slipped into the crowd, skidding on rain-slick flagstones. Beside him, Lucius’ body gave off pulses of steam. Sol shifted closer, letting the firedrake’s blood warm his side as the grounds continued to fill with an embarrassed cadre of dragons and knights.

Lucius leaned in. ‘How mad do you think they’ll be that Ariadnne beat us in open flight, despite being drugged?’

‘Livid, Lucius. They will be livid.’ A kernel of pride flickered in Sol’s chest for his daughter. ‘Jagen might even blow that vein in his temple—it’s only a matter of time.’

‘Do you think Nieve made it?’

Lucius’ words triggered a sharp sting of loss, and Sol wished he had something reassuring to say. He’d liked Nieve. She had been an excellent knight, and a friend, too, if he were honest with himself. If anyone was a worthy mate for his daughter, it would be her.

If she had perished…

‘They’ve swept the rocks for her body and haven’t found her,’ was the best he could say.

Lucius chewed on his lip. They both knew she could have easily been swept out to sea.

‘You know,’ Sol added. ‘I’m starting to wish I’d believed Mel when she said it was the Council that killed Zol. None of this feels right.’

Lucius stiffened. ‘The mate bond is sacred,’ he growled. ‘They wouldn’t dare.’

‘I’m not so sure the Council follow those rules.’

Doubting the Council didn’t sit comfortably. Part of Sol idolised them, bent over backwards to please them… but he’d witnessed them do things to his daughter and the clarity he was experiencing was long overdue.

‘You think they set this all up?’ Lucius’ violet eyes darkened.

‘Everyone in that bloody hall knew Nieve didn’t kill Mel. We’re just too scared to rock the boat.’

‘I’m not.’ Lucius bristled and Sol put a hand on his arm as red scales shimmered beneath his skin.