opening its mighty jaws.
Its fire couldn’t kill me, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t snatch me up and shred me to ribbons between its teeth.
The force of its deafening roar almost knocked me off my feet. I held up my arms to protect my face—and that’s when I saw the opening.
I remembered the words of King Albion.
Its scales are impenetrable.
You must wait for. . .
You must wait for the drakon to breathe fire.
I could see the fire forming down the drakon’s throat, its
mouth and belly lighting up.
And then, I fired.
The arrow sailed into its mouth, lodging into the back of the drakon’s throat. At the same time, I saw the fire approaching me, enveloping me in its warmth.
The next thing I heard was an explosion, followed by thundering, blood-curdling roar. My head slammed into the ground
as I was thrown back, white-hot pain exploding through my skull.
There was a ringing in my ears as I tried to catch my breath,
my lungs constricted.
I heard hair-raising screams, and the painful uproar of the drakon as it fell from the sky. As it landed with a thundering crash, the wall shook.
And then, there was silence.
“What . . . have you . . . done?” Aedon’s voice came. “What have you done?” she screamed.
My body ached as I sat up, trying to focus my vision. I could still hear the ringing in my ears, though it was fading.
“How?” Aedon said as she sat on her knees, arms limp, her eyes wide.
“Elven metal,” I choked out, my empty stomach heaving. “In . . . the explosives.”
She let out an ear-splitting scream, lunging at me.
Aedon tackled me to the ground. She wrapped her hands around my neck, squeezing, her thumbs pressing into my windpipe.
“This was everything I had worked for!” Aedon wailed. “I have planned for this day since you were taken from me, and this is what you give me in return?”
You were going to kill everyone! I screamed inside. If you
were willing to kill Phoenix, your own daughter, how could I
trust you?
I could feel my face turning blue as I gasped for air, my hands scrambled at her belt, in hopes to find a weapon. In that moment, I knew that this woman would kill her own daughter for revenge.
My vision blurred as her grip tightened.
Just as I was about to accept my fate, to give up, my hand
enclosed around the smooth handle of a dagger.
With one last effort to survive, I slid it out of its sheath and
plunged it into her shoulder.
Aedon Sarafian roared with pain as she let go of me, her hands grabbing at the dagger. I gasped as her hands left my throat, gagging and coughing, trying to return air to my lungs.
Every inch of my body burned in agony as I kicked her off me. I didn’t realize we were so close to the edge.
“No!” I screamed as she rolled to the side. I grabbed for her arm, but I missed.
My heart stopped as I stared at where Aedon had just been sitting moments ago.
What have I done?
And then, I saw her fingers.
I launched myself forward, grabbing at her hands which were beginning to slip off of the crumbling edge of the wall. I held on to her hand, her other shoulder still impaled.
“Hold on,” I pleaded, “I’ll pull you up. Please, give me your other hand!”
Aedon hung from my grasp, my hands tight around hers.
She tried to reach up, panic filling her eyes.
“Don’t let go, Adalia!” she shouted.
“I need your other hand!”
My palms were beginning to sweat, her hand sliding out of
my grip.
She let out a cry of pain as she tried to lift her wounded arm.
I can do it, I can save her.
I gritted my teeth, using all my remaining strength to pull her upwards.
“Listen to me! I can’t hold on any longer,” she shouted. “Listen to me, Adalia. We’re not the only ones left. There are more. Do this for me. Save them, Adalia!” Her fingers curled in mine, the strength in her fingertips the only thing keeping her from her death. “Bring them back. If you truly have even an ounce of love left for me, you will find them and protect our bloodline. Remember this word: Apsara.”
“Please, give me your other hand!”
“Adalia,” she gasped. Her expression was different now; sad. “I’m sorry.”
And just like that, her fingers slipped from mine.
I gasped, watching in horror as she fell, her dark hair whipping around her face, gray eyes wide as her arm reached out towards me.
I closed my eyes before she hit the ground, a sob escaping my lips. I tore myself away from the edge. My eyes caught a flash of silver. My sword.
I reached towards it, a flare of pain exploding through my shoulder. I groaned, every inch of my body feeling as if it had been crushed by a boulder.
I pulled my weight towards the sword with my arms, sharp rock and debris cutting through the skin on my forearms.
My fingers wrapped around the hilt, my thumb grazing against the silver engraving.
Adalia.
I gripped the hilt, curling in a ball on top of the wall.
It was over.
THIRTY FOUR
I gripped Omen’s matted fur tightly in my fists as we rode through the battlefield. I scanned the bodies, praying I wouldn’t see any familiar faces.
The walls of the castle had fallen due to the wrath of the drakon, fires burning sky high. Some bodies were unrecognizable; charred to the bone.
The first person I identified was Kay. He stared up at the sky, a sword plunged through his chest. There were others I recognized, people I had personally trained. I was grieving.
The only person I knew was alive was Ashes. She, having elven blood like me, had survived the fire, unlike Queen Lorelle.
Ashes had despised her mother, but upon seeing her lifeless body, she fell apart.
The next face I saw was Taj. He was helping a pale-faced Simon to his feet who was bleeding profusely from a stab wound in his thigh.
Lance was aiding Jax who had been injured by some of the shrapnel from the enemy bombs. Isabel stood by her brother, wrapping cloth around the metal sticking out of his shoulder.
Batch kept shaking Asselin’s lifeless body, his caramel skin slick with blood, deep, brown eyes wide from shock and disbelief.
Wake up. Wake up.
I saw Quinn’s stiff body, and my heart broke for Emeline.
I couldn’t find Xavier.
After hours of looking, I returned to the castle, weak, my body numb from the cold; from the pain.
The war was over. It was a tie. Their general was killed, and our queen was dead.
Omen trudged through the snow, towards the gates of the castle.
He stood on the steps, bleeding from a wound above his hip.
I dismounted Omen, limping towards him.
The relief on his face was evident, his golden eyes full of unspoken words, lips parted. He could barely hold himself up anymore, gripping the bleeding gash at his side. Xavier fell to his knees and I ran, my ankle screaming with every ounce of pressure put on it.
I pressed my hands to the wound, my eyes burning.
“You’ll be okay. Everything will be fine.”
“The drakon?” he mumbled, his eyes fluttering shut.
“It’s dead.” He let out a groan, laying on his back. “Stay with me. Don’t close your eyes,” I pleaded. I gripped his hands, rubbing them, fumbling with his armor as I tried to find the source of the bleeding.
His golden eyes opened, catching mine. Xavier brushed my cheek with his fingers.
“You did . . . good.” He let out a pained chuckle. “I knew you would.”
His hand fell.
“Help!” I screamed. “Somebody, h
elp me!”
I didn’t know he got there, but Taj was next to us, grabbing Xavier, lifting him up.
“Adalia, your ankle. You can’t walk on that.”
Ashes.
Alive.
Talking.
“Help Xavier,” I gasped. “Don’t let him die. Don’t . . . don’t let him . . .”
THIRTY FIVE
Princess Zinovia’s coronation took place in a small room in the castle. Lance, Ashes, Jax, Aland, Charlotte, Isabel, Cyprian, the rest of the Knights who had survived, and a couple of others were there to witness it.
As the crown was lowered onto her head, Zinovia became the queen of Astodia and Crea. Lance would stay in Astodia as her vicegerent after things went back to normal, but for now, he was heading to Crea to take care of things while she helped piece Astodia back together.
Dystalphi and Trella had suffered severe losses. Even though the war had not been a win for any side, it was definitely a loss for them. They wouldn’t be attacking us again anytime soon, especially now since we had Knassos on our side.
I stood next to the doors of the room as Zinovia turned around, the crown gleaming on her head. Cyprian stood to my left, Ashes on the right.
“Is this how you thought things would turn out?” Ashes asked me. Her hair was tied up away from her face, revealing stitches from her forehead, down to the end of her eyebrow.
I shook my head, looking at her. “Never in a million years.”
“How are you holding up?” she asked, her cinnamon eyes sad. I smiled at her, my apprentice, my sister, hiding my sor-row. I shifted my weight to my good ankle, raising the crutch.
“I’ve been better.”
She laughed. “Now we can spend more quality sister-time together,” she joked, but I knew she meant it. Her eyes were sincere.
Cyprian looked over at her.
“We’re matching,” he grinned, pointing at the scar over his eye.
She scowled. “I’d hope not. I couldn’t bear to have a scar like that on my face.”
“I didn’t think you could get any more beautiful than you were, but with that,” he gestured to the scar over her brow, “well, let’s just say I was wrong.”
Her scowl slipped away, cheeks turning pink.
“Oh.”
I watched as the queen’s eyes landed on me.
She nodded.
I bowed my head in return.
After the coronation, Lance approached me, Jax next to him. Isabel joined, slipping away from Simon.
“Elven blood, huh?” he said with a grin, crossing his arms over his chest. “Who would’ve thought?”
“I’m not surprised,” Isabel raised an eyebrow, “there was always something off about you.” She laughed as Jax shot her a glare.
“The most believable thing is that you two are sisters,” Jax said. He was still recovering from his injury, his arm in a sling, but he seemed a lot healthier today. “There were too many similarities.”
“The hotheadedness,” Lance smirked.
“Hardheadedness,” Cyprian interjected, earning an elbow jab from Ashes.
“Even your facial structures are similar,” Isabel noted. “I can’t believe I didn’t notice it before.”
As they joked around, I smiled at them. At each and every one of them.
I was so grateful they were still here, with me. So, so grateful.
“Oh . . . Adalia,” Jax said, taking me to the side. “I wanted to tell you something.”
“Yes?”
“I’m returning to Crea.”
I looked at him inquisitively. “Why?”
“Lance asked me to put together a group of Knights for him, the way Taj did here.”
“And you’ll be . . .?”
“The head knight.”
I smiled. “Congratulations, Jax.”
He opened one arm, bringing me in for a tight embrace.
“You know,” he said softly, “everything is going to get better.” My heart grew heavy as I thought of all the people we had lost. I gripped him tightly. He pulled back, cupping my face in his hands, looking at me with his crystal blue eyes, and kissed my forehead.
“I know,” I said.
I walked around the corridors with no destination.
I stepped over the rubble, fingering the crevices in the stone walls. I wandered past rooms, my legs feeling like weights.
I stopped at a set of doors. For a moment, I hesitated, and then pushed them open, walking into the ballroom.
It had been left untouched.
I made my way down the steps slowly, trying to avoid putting my weight on my hurt ankle. I made my way to the center of the room, taking it in, staring up at the chandeliers, the paintings, the gold, gold, gold everything.
“I knew I’d find you here.”
My heart skipped a beat. I spun around.
Xavier stood at the top of the steps. His dark hair was cut much shorter, wearing a clean tunic and a fresh set of boots and pants. He was staring down at me with his golden eyes.
“Xavier,” I breathed. “You’re supposed to be—”
“Ah, I couldn’t spend another day on that bed.” He began to walk down the stairs, wincing with every step, gripping his stomach. “Crutches?” he asked, eyeing the wooden object tucked under my arm which kept me from falling over.
I grinned.
“Hey, you don’t look so good either,” I pouted, wrinkling my nose, gesturing to his side.
He walked up to me, taking my hands in his. His eyes fell on the ring.
“You still have it?”
I took his hand, the one with his ring, holding it to my heart..
“Of course I do.”
He wrapped his arms around my waist. The wooden crutch fell to the side, landing on the floor, forgotten. I buried my face into his shoulder, inhaling the scent of roses. Cinnamon and roses. I closed my eyes.
Xavier had turned down the offer to be crowned king, and I . . . I was no longer taking orders from royalty, and I had learned to fight against the tremor, which, over time, lessened tremendously. Because of Ashes, I realized that this weakness had only caused me to become stronger. Lorelle had known this, which is why she had Ashes become my apprentice in the first place.
I wrapped my arms around Xavier’s neck, tightly.
This was it.
We were finally free.
EPILOGUE
I hold tightly onto Omen’s fur as he climbs up the hill. We are nearly at the top.
“Careful; I heard it’s hard to ride without a saddle,” Xavier calls, whipping his horse’s reins, coaxing it forward. He smirks as he starts to pass me, showing off.
I do the same, patting Omen to make him move faster. The panthera quickens its pace, bounding up the hill.
We laugh as we race up the steep slope.
The snow has almost completely melted away, signs of greenery peeking out from under the white blankets like patches of hope.
I reach the top first, Xavier pulling up beside me only a few seconds later. The wind blows through his hair, his eyes reflecting the gold cast of the sun, and I know I love him. I love everything about him.
I love Xavier Cane.
The sun has begun to set, casting a golden glow upon the land. Even through all the wreckage, the castle stands tall. Zinovia has given orders to start rebuilding parts of it again.
“What now?” Xavier asks softly as we watch the sun set over Astodia. “Now that it’s over, what do we do?” he looks so happy, so relaxed. If wings unfolded behind him at this moment, allowing him to fly away into the sunset, I wouldn’t be
surprised.
I close my eyes, feeling the wind blow through my clothes,
my hair, and inhale deeply.
I open them.
I run a hand through Omen’s fur. “With the close of one book, a new one opens.” I turn to him. “Have you heard of a place called Apsara?”
Xavier’s curious amber eyes find mine. “I remember my father mentioning it
a few times.” With those words, I turn Omen around, preparing to head back down the hill. “Why do you ask?” he calls after me.
I look over my shoulder at Xavier Cane.
“It isn’t over, Xavier,” I respond. “This is only the end of the beginning.”
He grins, urging his horse to catch up with me.
“Ready?” I ask. He smirks.
“I’ll always be ready,” he responds.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
As this book comes to a close, I would like to thank all of my supporters from the bottom of my heart. I can’t put the endless gratitude that I feel towards my readers into words, the people who gave me the strength to write and bring this series to a close.
To my family: my biggest fans, my rocks.
To my readers: for supporting me with their love for Adalia and following her on her adventures.
Even though this series has come to an end, Adalia’s journey will continue. My love and passion for writing is endless, and I’ll be back with more thrilling, exciting stories—so keep your eyes open . . . Anything’s possible.
The King's Secret Page 26
