The Shadow Queen (Ravenspire, #1)

He snarled as he lunged for her, dragon talons extending from his fingertips.

She waited until he was almost upon her, and then dove beneath his outstretched arms, crashing into his knees and bringing him to the ground. He kicked out and whipped his body toward her. She elbowed him in the jaw, knocking him back. His talons scraped her shoulder.

He scrambled to get his feet beneath him again, and she leaped on top of him, her bare hands pressing into his chest and sending a bolt of magic straight through his dragon heart.

He threw her off him, sending her spinning into the underbrush. With a snarl of rage, he crawled after her, his heart screaming for her blood, the collar whispering until he could hear nothing else.

She watched him come for her, her hands raised as if to stop him. Foolish prey. He pulled himself into a crouch and leaped. Her bare hands slammed against his chest as he pinned her to the ground, and the brilliant heat of her magic arrowed into him.

He threw back his head, the cords of his neck standing out, his chest laboring with every breath as she sent her magic through him, cutting him off from the rage that lived in the empty space where his human heart had been and softening the messages of pain his body kept sending.

Help me. His voice, broken and raw, rose above the collar’s whispers. He looked at her face and found fierce compassion in her eyes, resolute determination in the set of her mouth.

I am. Her thoughts spun quickly, almost too fast for him to follow. She was thinking of magic, of remedies, of how much pain she could take from him without Irina realizing she’d lost her huntsman.

Grab the tree beside us. I don’t want to cause more damage to the land, but we don’t have a choice. She jerked her chin toward the sickly looking maple. Hold on to it with both hands, and whatever you do, don’t let go until I’m finished.

He didn’t question her. Slowly, he climbed off her. She moved with him, keeping her hands against his skin. He turned, dug his now talonless fingers into the bark, and braced himself.

Taking a deep breath, she said, “Nakhgor. Find his pain. Ja`dat. Send it into the tree instead.”

Her magic flared, his dragon heart pounded, and the collar was a band of agony.

“Nakhgor. Ja`dat.” Her voice rose as the magic surged through her and into him, rushing like a river that refused to be stopped. His dragon heart fought her, but Kol himself wanted to be saved, and the part of him that still survived bowed to the strength of her magic.

The brilliant light flowed through him, gathered the worst of his torment and sent it through his hands and into the maple.

Kol cried out as the tree shivered.

Power was an all-encompassing flood of light inside the girl, and it spilled over from her thoughts to his. It was pain and pleasure—freedom and a chain that bound her to an onslaught of weariness she couldn’t stop if she tried.

He felt her struggle to push the weariness back. To do one last thing for him. Concentrating the last of her energy, she pushed her magic toward the thick gray shroud that kept him from his memories. Her voice trembled with power as she yelled, “Nakhgor. Ja`dat.”

The shroud tore. The maple split in two with a tremendous crack. Kol’s memories came flooding back, and with it the restraint he needed to gain control of his dragon heart.

The girl gave him a crooked little smile before she slumped toward the ground.

Gabril called out a warning, but Kol had already wrapped his arms around her. Already pulled her against his chest so that she wouldn’t fall.

His mind was free from torment. The collar’s whispers were muted, its pain a dull ache.

She’d saved him. Again.

He tried to say “Thank you,” but her eyes fluttered shut, and she slept.




TWENTY-FIVE


KOL WALKED AHEAD of Gabril, who had the unconscious princess carefully slung over his back as they made their way toward the Silber River that flowed from the western edge of Ravenspire to the eastern reaches of Eldr. Gabril said that Lorelai was going to use the river to keep her promise to help Eldr.

Lorelai.

Not the girl. Not prey. Not anymore.

Lorelai.

Kol’s mind was finally clear, thank the skies, and though pain still pulsed from Irina’s collar, though his dragon heart still longed for blood, the warm sense of connection he felt to Lorelai, even while she was unconscious, helped him hold the worst of it at bay.

Seconds after Kol had saved Lorelai from hitting the ground as she fainted, Gabril had lifted the princess away from him while warning him that, dragon or no, Kol was dead the second he even looked like he was thinking of hurting Lorelai.

Kol couldn’t blame him. If someone had treated Brig the way he’d treated Lorelai, he’d have incinerated them where they stood.

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