by Lili Zander
Another wave of tainted magic erupts from the Bloodstone. I grit my teeth and hang on. “Be prepared to grab the stone from me,” I grind out. “One more minute.”
I feed the child more strength. After an excruciatingly long time, the small spark grows to a bright glow. Just in time. As another wave washes over me, Raedwulf wrenches the stone from my grasp.
“It didn’t work,” he says flatly. He can’t hide the disappointment from his tone. “Still, a deal’s a deal.”
I sink to the floor. “Watch,” I whisper. I reach for Tristan’s small hand. One more push of magic and the little boy transforms into a brown and gray wolf.
“You did it. You fixed him.” Shock runs through Raedwulf’s voice, and his eyes fill with tears. “Thank you, thank you.”
The small wolf jumps from the chair and runs to the front door, growling. I’m sure the little guy is going for fierce, but it’s just adorable. Raedwulf scoops the pup up in his arms, just in time for the door to be kicked in.
I scramble to my feet at once. What now?
Lukus Hyde and several members of Eclipse Pack stream inside the room. The Alpha seems as surprised to see me as I am to see him, but his attention quickly returns to Raedwulf. “Where’s Silas Archer?” he demands.
“With Gideon Zyrian.”
A look of despair flickers over Lukus Hyde. It fills me with fresh anger. Stop acting like it’s too late, I want to scream. Stop acting like Silas is already dead.
Hyde recovers his composure. “Put the pup down,” he says, pushing his alpha authority into the words. “Surrender to pack justice.”
I brace for a fight, but Raedwulf just nods. “My boy…”
The Alpha’s expression softens. “Your pup will be cared for by Eclipse Pack.”
Raedwulf turns to me. “As promised,” he says, handing me the vial. “If you go to the docks, there’s a boat there waiting to take you to Zyrian’s fortress.”
“Thank you.” I can’t linger here. Hyde can clean up this mess.
I have more important things to do.
102
Mateo
We land in Nome an hour behind Aria. By the time we get to the cheap motel that she’s meeting the tattoo artist at, she’s not there anymore. We’ve just missed her.
“You let her go to Zyrian’s castle?” Bastian rages at Lukus Hyde. “Why the fuck didn’t you stop her?”
The Alpha holds Bastian’s gaze bravely. “I could have tried, Lord Jaeger,” he says. “But I would have failed. Your mate freed the magic locked inside Raedwulf’s cub. She is more powerful than anyone I’ve ever seen. If I’d tried to hold her by force, I would have failed.” His voice turns gentle. “She’s going to rescue her father, Lord Jaeger. I didn’t want to stop her.”
“You fool.” My voice is harsh. “She can’t face the Dark Dragon alone. We’ve got to go after her.”
“The island is warded. As powerful as you are, Lord Valentini, you won’t be able to break past Gideon Zyrian’s defenses.”
I look up, and my shoulders stiffen. It’s Raedwulf. “What the hell is he doing here?” I snap at Lukus Hyde.
“Trying to help you,” Raedwulf responds. “I owe your mate a debt of gratitude.”
Rhys is calm. “Zyrian’s power is fading. Why can’t Mateo break past his wards?”
“Because his wards aren’t maintained by his strength,” Raedwulf responds. “I’ve studied the Dark Dragon at close range for over a year. Zyrian gains magic by murdering magicals and imprisoning their souls. It’s the wraiths that keep his shield up.”
“Wraiths,” Bastian repeats crisply. “Got it.”
“There’s something else. You can’t shift inside the Rogue Prince’s castle.”
“What?”
He nods. “I don’t know how he does it, but it’s true. Even on a full moon night, I’ve never been able to free my wolf on the island.”
“We’ll manage,” Erik says grimly. “Bastian. We’re wasting time. Aria’s ten minutes ahead of us. We need to catch up with her.”
Raedwulf holds up his hand. “Two more things,” he warns. “The island is guarded by an army of Zyrian’s pet wolves. Unlike everyone else, they can shift at will. Every entrance will be watched.”
Casius is practically vibrating with impatience. “What’s the last thing?”
“There’s a way in. A door set in the west wall of the castle. The servants used to access the vegetable garden through that entrance, but it hasn’t been used in fifty years, and everyone’s forgotten about it. That’s the easiest way in.”
I search him for any sign that he’s lying to us, but a probe reveals that Raedwulf is telling us the truth. He’s genuinely grateful for what Aria did. He doesn’t want her to die.
Neither do I. But if we want to reach her before it’s too late, we need to get going. Now.
103
Aria
I’m on a boat headed toward the small island that houses Zyrian’s castle. This is it. For five hundred years, the curse has stifled the dragons. Prevented them from finding their mates. Draining magic from this world.
Do I have what it takes to end it now?
I dreamed of Zyrian even before I met the dragons. I had Endellion in my hand and the Bloodstone around my neck. The wraiths had tried to make me leave, but I wouldn’t be dissuaded. The Rogue Prince was holding Silas prisoner, and I had to march in there. I had to save my father.
Every single time I’ve had this dream, it’s ended in failure. Every single time, Silas has been killed.
There has to be something I’m missing. Some way of changing my fate. Because I will not watch my father die in front of my eyes.
I grow still as a realization flashes through me. The visions have always been on my mind. I’ve spent many hours pondering over their message.
But the one thing I’ve never wondered about? Where the visions come from.
Very good. Finally, another sensible question.
It’s Maija Essen, I realize with a start. She’s the source of my visions. Which means…
Every path in front of me ends in destruction. All paths but one.
Finally, we’re getting somewhere. There is a way out of this impossible trap. All hope is not lost. I just have to figure this puzzle out.
And the key to the solution is the person that pulled me into this. The mysterious, enigmatic Maija Essen, the most powerful mage of her time. A woman who could see the future.
What do I really know about her? Next to nothing. She was betrothed to another powerful mage, but she instead married Johannes Jaeger, a warrior with no ability to manipulate magic. On the day she agreed to be his, he’d been so happy that he’d given her Gungnir, the legendary spear of Odin.
A memory itches in the back of my mind. What had Bastian said? Halla Northridottir had told him that it was Endellion that was the courting gift. Not Gungnir.
So why the lie? Why is Endellion important?
I know what the Bloodstone is. It’s a reservoir containing the magic of generation upon generation of dragons.
I know what role I’m supposed to play. My blood will dissolve the barrier imprisoning magic inside the Bloodstone.
But the sword? Is it just a means for me to get inside the castle, or is it something more?
It’s freezing, but I can’t sit inside the warm cabin of the boat. I’m pacing restlessly on the deck, back and forth, over and over, trying to see what I’m missing.
As I fret, I finger the small vial in my jacket pocket. Kioko Yone’s magic suppressant. The Rogue Dragon is powerful, and against him, it won’t buy me much time. Five minutes, according to Raedwulf.
Can I grab Silas and fight my way free of the guards in five minutes? Can I flee the Dark Dragon’s castle before he can break free of the potion that binds him?
Not a snowball’s chance in hell.
The vial can’t be my primary plan. I need something else.
“Maija Essen,” I whisper into the frigid air. “If you’r
e listening, I could really use a hint here. What am I supposed to do?”
My right wrist blazes and I gasp as a swift surge of pain runs through me. What the hell? It feels like my mating mark is on fire, a fire that spreads to the Bloodstone.
I’m poised on the edge of a revelation that could change everything. I know it. I can sense it in my bones, feel it in the throbbing of the blood running through my veins.
But though I grasp for it, it doesn’t materialize.
The boat pulls up at a deserted dock. “We’ve arrived,” the stone-faced boat captain says. “The Dark Dragon is waiting for you.”
104
Casius
Step 1: Get the wraiths to drop the wards so we can land on Zyrian’s island.
“Let me handle this,” Rhys says when he catches sight of the spectral creatures in our way, shrieking with anger.
Mateo, who’s straightened his shoulders in preparation for a fight, raises an eyebrow. “What are you planning to do?” he asks, sounding more curious than confrontational.
Rhys flashes us a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “These wraiths used to be women,” he says. “I’m going to charm them, of course.”
He steps forward with an easy grin. “Hello, loves,” he greets them cheerfully.
Five minutes later, the shields are down.
I shake my head in reluctant admiration. “Fuck me,” I say softly. “Nice job, Griffith.”
“Let’s find the west entrance.” Bastian steps onto the island, his hand on the hilt of his sword.
The moment I set foot on Zyrian’s domain, a numbing sensation runs through my body, and I’m left feeling weak and drained. “Did you feel that?” I ask the others.
Mateo nods. “The Rogue Dragon’s magic,” he says. “I thought Maija Essen’s wards fought me.” His lips twist bitterly. “I stand corrected. Remember what Raedwulf said? We’re entirely cut off from our magic. We won’t be able to shift here.”
My head snaps up. “Forget the shift for a second. Can you do any magic here?”
He inhales sharply, and his eyes widen. “No,” he says. “There’s nothing here. There’s emptiness where there should be a reassuring warmth.” His hands clench into fists. “Without magic, how can I help Aria?” He sounds agonized.
“One problem at a time,” Bastian replies calmly. “Let’s focus on finding the door that Raedwulf mentioned first.”
Step 2: Get into the castle.
Once the wraiths allow us entry, we land on a rocky beach on the north-western tip of the island. The exterior wall of the castle loom in front of us, almost twenty feet tall. With magic, we could shift and fly in, but Zyrian’s stripped us of that ability.
The Rogue Prince has been alive for a long time, and he is clever and cunning beyond measure. Every account tells us that his magic is waning, that he needs the lifeforce trapped inside the Bloodstone to renew his powers. But waning magic or not, he’s the most formidable foe we’ve ever faced.
Aria’s life hangs in the balance. There are no jokes now. No quips about Rhys’ finely-honed flirting abilities. We’re filled with grim determination. Our hands are on the hilt of our swords, and we’re ready for battle.
Zyrian’s castle was built in 1385 in Skagen, on the northernmost tip of Denmark. It was originally made from wood and earth, but over the years, the mage replaced the wooden walls with stone, expanding it and adding fortifications.
In the mid-eighteenth century, the Dark Dragon tired of Denmark for reasons that none of us know. After Vitus Jonassen Bering sighted the Alaskan landmass on a voyage to Siberia, Gideon Zyrian picked up his castle and moved it by magic to its current location, just off the coast of Nome, to this rocky island in the Bering Sea.
We walk along the outer wall, looking for the door that Raedwulf swore we’d find. The main entrance is in the south, but that’s heavily guarded. As much as I ache to confront the Dark Dragon directly, I know what a stupid idea that is. Aria is the priority here, not Gideon Zyrian.
After ten minutes of searching, we find the narrow entrance, obstructed by overgrown creepers. “Does Gideon not feed his servants?” Erik asks disgustedly, surveying the opening with a dubious look on his face. “This is going to be a tight squeeze.”
“Let’s go.” Bastian puts his shoulder to the wooden door. We take turns battering it until it yields.
Outer wall breached. What awaits us in the bailey?
Wolves. At least fifty of them, heavily armed, alert. Zyrian’s pet pack, ready for battle.
Zyrian knows, even if Aria doesn’t, that we’ll come after her. We won’t let her face this alone. And he’s prepared for us. As wily as ever, the Dark Dragon knows that the wolves don’t need to defeat us. Just delay us long enough for him to drain the Bloodstone.
One of the wolves catches our scent as soon as we step through the door.
Ten wolves for each of us. No ability to shift. No ability to access our innate magic, the one that gives us dragon-strength and speed.
Erik’s mouth sets in grim lines and his shoulders stiffen with determination. “Bring it on.”
105
Aria
The moment I step foot on the dock, a shock of magic runs through me, and I can feel Zyrian’s defenses sap my strength.
Oh hell no.
Gritting my teeth, I yank my recognizable red-hued threads of magic back from the dark, dank strands trying to steal them away. I straighten my spine and banish the fear from my heart.
It’s all about Silas now. Zyrian took my father? I am going to kill the evil mage.
Unfortunately, I’m not sure how to do that yet.
A robed, hooded woman greets me as soon as I disembark. I search her aura. No magic, not even a whiff of it. Zyrian doesn’t trust his servants then. Good to know.
“Come with me,” she says tersely.
I follow her through the doors, across an inner courtyard that’s packed with armed men—wolf-shifters, if I’m not mistaken—and into the castle proper. “Expecting trouble?” I ask her. “All these guards for me? Overkill much?”
As expected, she doesn’t reply. Nobody appreciates my snark.
I’ve stood in this entryway a thousand times. I don’t need the hooded woman to show me the way to Zyrian’s keep. I’ve walked these passageways every night in my dreams.
Wraiths glide to me as I walk down the stone corridor. Leave Silas to his fate, they whisper. You can’t defeat the Dark Dragon.
Thanks for the vote of confidence, ghostly wraiths. Thank you very much.
Help me, I tell them instead. Zyrian killed you for your magic. Don’t you want revenge?
The servant walks in front of me, entirely unaware of this exchange. She can’t sense the ghosts. She doesn’t know they’re there.
One particularly wispy shape replies, her voice sad. There is no way to win. I was the Dark Dragon’s first victim. His lover. He strangled me six hundred and forty-nine years ago.
I stop dead in my tracks. Zyrian was killing people for their magic before he cast the curse.
Of course, the wraith replies. We gave him the power he needed.
My resolve hardens. Zyrian’s been on a murderous rampage for a very long time. Tell me something useful, I beg again. He has Silas. I have to fight. I’m ready to die. Tell me how to break the curse. Tell me how to end his stranglehold on magic.
There is nothing to tell, she repeats. There is no path forward. You can’t defeat the Dark Dragon alone.
Screw you, wraith girl. You’re wrong. I cling desperately onto hope, my nails digging into my palms.
There has to be a way, and I will find it.
106
Aria
In the Lord of the Rings, Sauron is a big, flaming eye. In Harry Potter, Voldemort looks suspiciously like his pet snake.
So when I enter Zyrian’s inner sanctum, I’m ready for the arch villain to look, well, villainous.
Instead, he looks like a Nordic god. He’s tall. His ash-blond hair is spiky. S
tubble coats his cheeks, and his ice-blue eyes are vividly captivating.
Serial killer eyes.
“Aria.” He smiles pleasantly as I enter the room, and waves to a pair of armchairs in front of the five-foot fireplace. “How nice of you to accept my invitation. So few people visit my castle. Can I get you a drink?”
He’s acting like this is a social visit? My body vibrates with anger. “Skip the pleasantries,” I snap. “Where’s Silas?”
Dark threads of power swirl around him, forming an impenetrable net protecting him from attack. The tug at my magic is more pronounced in his presence. The attack feels like I’m caught in a thunderstorm, rain beating down on me, forcing me to my knees.
Don’t push against your magic. Mateo’s calm voice flows like a gentle wave into my mind. Let it breathe.
I take a deep breath and allow the tight bundle of stress to melt away.
“He’s perfectly safe,” Zyrian replies. “I keep my deals, princess. Unlock the Bloodstone for me, and I will allow you to walk out of here with the wolf. As promised.”
Don’t call me princess, asshole. Only Erik gets to do that.
There’s a pang in my heart when I think of my mates. I’ve turned off my phone, and so I can’t talk to them. I can’t lean on them. I hadn’t realized how much I’ve come to rely on Mateo’s patient words of instruction and Casius’ warm encouragement. How essential Rhys’ teasing banter is. How much I depend on Bastian’s clear resolve and Erik’s steadfast strength.
We’ve become a team.
I hadn’t realized how necessary they are. Not until this moment, when I’m all alone.
I lift the Bloodstone from around my neck and hold it in the air. Zyrian’s ice-cold eyes lock on the gemstone, his expression avidly greedy. “I want to see him,” I insist firmly.
