Series: Lords of Rathe Series by Meagan Brandy
Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 98580 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98580 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
“And now you think I’m the reason?”
She shrugs, smirking as she steps back. “Probably not, but that would be some shit, wouldn't it?”
The both of us share a small laugh, and I watch as she pulls one of the daggers from the sheath at her side. She tosses it to me, and I catch it by the handle, eyeing my reflection in the sharp blade.
My white hair is brighter than ever before, and when I look into my eyes, a shadow shows itself. It steps closer to the surface staring back at me. It has no shape that I can see, but it’s strong, dark, and it’s hungry.
For vengeance.
For him.
A smile curves my lips and I swear she smiles back.
I look to Haide.
“Ready?”
“Ready.”
She sticks her thumb and pointer finger between her lips and whistles.
I stare, turning when the floor rumbles and shakes beneath my feet. The wind whistles, thundering and roars, and then I see them.
Four, five … six dragons curve over the edge of the cliff, their giant talons digging into the earth as they land with a bellowing boom that makes me stumble where I stand.
And then a seventh joins, but he doesn't drop in the tight line the others have created, he soars overhead, slowly lowering until his massive body is before me.
He dips his head to the ground and still those green eyes are above my head.
“Hi again, friend,” I whisper, a strange sense of sadness falling over me but the moment my palm presses to his thick, sharp scales, it melts away. My scowl is small, and I swear the dragon turns into my touch. Tears build up in my eyes, but I don’t know why.
“Okay, new girl.” Haide calls and I look to find her already climbing onto the back of a giant, red dragon. “Where to?”
I move, climbing up on my dragon's back and wrapping my hands around the reigns as I look to her. Closing my eyes, I try something I haven’t before. Something I'm not so sure will work.
I let myself fade to the background, allowing my bond to float forward and take control.
And then I see them.
Sinner, Creed, and Legend hang there, blood smeared along their chests and faces, small cuts and open gashes mar their skin. I suck in a breath.
They are in trouble. They were captured.
The eyes I’m seeing through must be Knight’s because he’s the only one missing. I try something, looking down and a whimper fights its way up my throat.
The dragon, my dragon, purrs beneath me, and my shaky palms instinctively flatten against him.
The handle of a dagger sticks from Knight’s gut, the blade buried deep into his flesh. Blood pools at his feet in a giant puddle, and rage dipped with fear licks across my skin.
Where are you, baby?
Something jolts at my mind, fighting against my intrusion, and suddenly Knight thrashes. The boys look over, frowning. Their lips move, but I can’t hear sounds. I only have sight.
I look around, spotting the blood-splattered walls, all white in color, but it’s the long red ropes made of magic that have my anger flaring.
I know those ropes, they're the ones that caged me in not that long ago.
I blink, looking to Haide. “You’re not going to like this.”
The dragons rise in unison, pink and blue swirls whirling overhead, and Haide lifts her chin, squaring her shoulders. Her decision already made regardless.
“Where to, Villaina?”
“The Ministry’s meeting room.”
The moment the last word leaves my lips we’re swallowed into a vortex, the growl of a dragon ringing in my ears.
I’m coming, Knight.
I’m coming and I’ll end them all.
Twenty-Six
Knight
I’m getting delusional. The loss of blood too much for my already weakened state.
They’re draining us of our energy, and with it, our gifts. They can’t take everything, the blood in our veins isn’t the only place Royal magic lives, but they know that, just as they know they could never defeat us at full strength. They couldn’t even defeat us at our weakest, but that’s what my father's Hellhound chains are for.
If he knew these people would use these on his heirs, he would have torn their limbs off one by one, and only when their families lay dead at their feet, their beings nothing but a head on a torso with a slow beating heart, would he have ended them.
If he lived long enough to witness the betrayal of his own heir, he would kill her too.
I’m going to kill her.
How the fuck is she alive?
London was sent away, gone, taken from me and her home, then killed...all because of her. My own fucking blood. My triplet.
She will die slowly. Painfully and publicly.
My mind aches again, and I clench my jaw, looking to my brothers. They’re in the same state as me—knives buried in their flesh; blood spilt at their feet.