A Kingdom of Ruin (Deliciously Dark Fairytales 3)

Only one man was allowed that privilege, however. Only one man had earned it.

I stepped back, and his hands fell away. I wasn’t good at following orders, and it was better that he learned that now rather than in the heat of battle when it really mattered.

“Tomorrow at dawn. Be there…or don’t. Time is up.”

With that, I turned and strode away, Tamara and Lucille just behind.

“You handled that perfectly,” Tamara said softly. “I expected you—everyone probably expected you to fall in line.”

“Fall in line with whom?”

“With Micah, for one. He is the most powerful dragon in this collection of villages. He’s their uncrowned leader and holds great sway with their elders. He’s been setting this up as his mission, and you just walked in and showed them all who is really the boss. You shoved him to the side with a will stronger than anyone has probably ever seen. The queen didn’t even have a will that strong, and she was regarded as the mightiest female in our kingdom.”

“Why didn’t I know any of this?” I asked.

“About him? Because you didn’t ask, and we didn’t think it was relevant,” Tamara said.

“Because you don’t care.” Lucille laughed. “You didn’t answer to the rulers in the demon kingdom, and it sounds like you gave the golden prince hell on a regular basis… Why would you care about the ruling setup of these villages?”

She had a point.

I jogged into the wood and shifted. Arrangements needed to be made, and then I wanted to take some time to try to communicate with Nyfain through the bond.

I needed him to know we were coming.

I needed him to do everything in his power to stall Dolion’s advance.

THIRTY

FINLEY

Our wings felt like lead weights as we pumped them through the crisp air. The sun was high in the sky; it was probably noon or a little past. The sea yawned before us, the glittering waves moving into the busy harbor.

Two dragons flew to either side of me, and another three dozen flew behind us. Apparently the turnout would’ve been higher if there had been more time, but this was more than I’d hoped for. Even without the wolves, this many fire breathers would make a serious dent in the enemy host.

We just had to get there in time.

It had only taken us half a day to fly at this breakneck speed. The dragons who had spent many long years in the dungeons were exhausted, I could tell. Their heads drooped and their tongues lolled out of their mouths. My dragon was tired too, for that matter. She’d been setting a pace that she couldn’t hope to continue for much longer. But just a little farther, and we’d make it to the boat.

“No, you bastard!” Hadriel hollered, his voice hoarse from all the yelling. He hung from a sling around Vemar’s neck. Despite his fatigue, Vemar was doing his best to dip and tilt and swing Hadriel around, much to Hadriel’s continued dismay. It turned out my mediocre butler wasn’t terribly fond of heights. Not while manically swinging through the air below a slightly mad dragon, at any rate. “Just fly normal for one fucking second!”

Micah, beside me, tilted his wings down and looked over. He’d basically been my dragon’s flight instructor all day, subtly showing us various tactics for not dying as we flew out of the mountains and down to sea level.

My dragon matched his movements, and we descended slowly, gliding to save a little energy.

Rage blistered through the bond, followed by intense pain. My stomach pinched, and I wished I knew if I should distract Nyfain with pleasure, as he’d done for me countless times, or leave him to push through it. So far I’d opted for leaving him be, mostly because we’d spent all day in the air, but also because I had a feeling he was in a battle of wills with Dolion. He would want his mind to remain clear.

Hurry, I thought for the millionth time.

The dragon has not thought goodbye yet, she told me as we continued to descend, waiting for somewhere to land. He’s full of rage and brimstone. The fight is not out of him.

Nyfain’s dragon was always the last to give in, though. He held on to hope when all was lost. He’d hold on much longer than Nyfain the man. Maybe that would be our saving grace.

As we steadily neared the ground, Micah looked over, tilting his wings just so. My dragon didn’t take the hint.

You’re going to hit too hard, I thought, tensing.

Her wings did tilt then, but too much, catching the wind and dramatically slowing us down. She overcorrected, exhausted, and we dove, the ground swinging up in a rush now. She tilted her wings again, catching air, then folded them up.

We dropped from the sky like a stone.