FOR DAYS, TRAPPED in his human body, Kol had run through forests, forded rivers, and climbed the western Falkrain mountains following the scent of his prey. He’d slept only when his legs gave out and refused to hold him. He’d eaten only when his vision blurred and a strange noise rang in his ears. The underbrush had clawed at him, low-hanging branches had swiped at him, and he’d lost his shirt when he’d tumbled down a hillside while trying to run at night. Through it all, the collar around his neck flooded him with pain, and the girl’s maddening scent of pine, snow, and sweet burning wood remained tantalizingly just out of reach.
But now, Kol crouched beside an enormous evergreen tree and stared at the girl sitting with her back against a tree, his dragon heart thundering, his chest burning. The air in the northwest Falkrain Mountains was frigid, but even though he had on nothing but his pants, his boots, and a collar of thistle and bone, he couldn’t feel it. All he felt was heat from the dragon fire trapped in his chest and a terrible pain that filled him until he could barely think about anything else.
He took a step, and her head whipped up. She met his eyes and smiled slowly.
“It worked.” She sounded triumphant, but then she looked closer at him and frowned. “Where is your shirt? And why are you still wearing Irina’s collar?”
He snarled.
The girl went still, her body tense. The wind teased her long black hair and brought her scent to Kol. He lifted his nose and tested the air. Evergreen, crisp snow, and the sweetness of burning wood, just like the coat his queen had given him to smell.
He’d found his prey.
No, not prey. She was . . . something else. Something he no longer had the words for. He shook his head, trying to think, to remember, but his dragon heart blazed within him, begging for blood and fire. For someone’s pain to match the unending agony that circled his neck beneath his collar and spread through his veins like razor-tipped lightning.
The pain would stop when he killed her. He was certain of it. The collar seemed to whisper to him, words he couldn’t understand but whose meaning he felt deep within his bones.
This girl’s heart belonged to Kol’s queen, and his agony would stop when he ripped it from her chest and returned it to the castle.
“What’s going on?” the girl asked. Her voice reminded Kol of another girl who’d held up her chin and tried to speak without trembling as she begged Kol not to leave her behind in their castle. Not to die.
Another girl . . . she seemed far away now. Lost to the cloudy memories of a life before the collar. A life Kol knew he needed to remember but could only access in bits and pieces.
“You need to tell me what happened. I can help you fix it.” The girl’s voice shook a little, but there was a confidence beneath it. A certainty that she could face Kol and survive.
She couldn’t.
No one could survive him. He was fire and blood and death. He was rage trapped in a human skin.
He reached for the knife tied against his belt.
The girl frowned and slowly inched her feet toward her body as if getting ready to leap to her feet.
The fury within him surged at the thought.
“Can you speak?” she asked, and this time all traces of fear had vanished from her voice.
The collar seemed to tighten and power poured out of it, searing his skin and adding more heat to the flames already raging inside him.
The knife fell from his fingers as he clutched his head with his hands and moaned. If he’d known the words to beg for his own death, he would’ve. His words, like his memories, felt trapped beyond the unending pain, beyond the shroud of smoke that had settled over his mind until only the whispers from the collar felt like truth.
He was a king. No, he was a killer. He was a brother.
He was fire, blood, and death.
And nothing would change until the girl in front of him was dead.
His head snapped up as the girl lunged to her feet. He locked eyes with her as his dragon heart beat fiercely. As he bared his teeth.
“Don’t.” She held up her hand like she could stop him. Like anything could stop him.
He clenched his fists as the fire in his chest spilled into his veins. Closing his eyes, he tried one last time to remember his reasons for not obeying the collar.
To remember himself.
“Run,” he whispered, his voice more dragon than human, though he already knew it was too late. If she ran, his dragon would chase her. Catch her.
Kill her.
And he’d be free.
“No,” the girl said.
He opened his eyes. Drew in a deep breath of evergreen, snow, and burning wood. Felt the fire in his chest explode with a desperate need to hunt, punish, and destroy.
She shifted to the balls of her feet. Raised her hands as if to defend herself.