Warriors of Wind and Ash - Page 78

Turning my focus inward, I trigger the change.

And… nothing happens.

Frowning, I try again. My horns reappear, and so do my claws, but I’m still human.

This isn’t right. I should have many more hours left as a dragon. I should be able to change.

“Having difficulties?” asks Rahzien blandly.

With a strained groan, I fight for transformation. I can feel my other form, just beyond my reach, but I can’t access it. Flecks of fire quiver beneath my skin, and sparks flicker in the air when I breathe, but no matter how fiercely I struggle to shift, I can’t.

“A little advice.” Rahzien saunters toward me and smooths the fabric of my open shirt. “When you’re residing in the same palace as a powerful poisoner, you might want to be more careful what you touch or consume.”

Meridian groans. “The bracelet… or the tonic…”

“Both, actually,” says Rahzien. “We couldn’t be sure you would accept the drink without suspicion, so we prepared the gift as well.” He points to the gold bracelet on my wrist. “The poison absorbs through the skin. So you were doomed either way, and doubly doomed because you’re such a trusting fool.”

When he pats my face, I ball my fist like Norril showed me and let it fly. Rahzien moves to dodge but I’m too quick—I manage to punch him in the eye.

He staggers, grunts, and returns the blow with interest, two punches in quick succession, his fist smashing into my mouth, then my nose.

Claws out, I lunge at him with a snarl, but the guards move closer, raising their weapons higher as one of them shouts, “Stay where you are, beast!”

Rahzien steps back, wiping at a trickle of blood from a cut on his cheekbone. “I’d control that temper if I were you, dragon.”

Again I try to transform, lines of fire cracking beneath my skin, a harsh roar erupting from my throat. But I can’t do it. My ability to shift has been blocked.

I turn to Serylla, who stands wide-eyed and silent in the passage. “Run.”

She shakes her head frantically.

“Serylla,” I grit out. “Go.”

“Spider.” Rahzien’s voice is heavy with power, with warning. “Come to me. You are my pet. You do as you’re told. When you do as you’re told, you receive good things.”

My beautiful queen casts him a vulnerable, frightened look and shudders. I don’t know everything he has done to her, how he gained even a little sway over her mind—but right now I need her to trust me, to see herself the way I see her.

“You possess no power over her,” I tell Rahzien, though I never take my eyes off Serylla. “She was never truly in your control, and you did not break her. Nothing can, because she always survives.” I keep looking at my mate, piercing her gaze with all the admiration and love in my soul. “She has the heart of a dragon.”

There it is. The spark in her blue eyes—her spirit, her courage.

“I fucking love you,” she says, low and tender. And then she’s gone, disappearing into the passage.

Rahzien vents a sound of explosive frustration. “You three—go after her.”

A few guards head for the passage, but Meridian presses something on the painting’s frame, and it begins to swing shut, slowly and ponderously. As the guards rush past him, he sticks out his right foot, and one of them trips, careening against another guard. Before they can right themselves, the painting snaps into place, and the guards begin to fumble around the frame, trying to open it.

“Use your guns on the damn thing,” orders Rahzien. “Blast the painting, rip it open, get through! I want her caught and brought to me immediately.”

The guards open fire on the painting. I’ve heard Vohrainian guns before, but never this close. It’s excruciating to my sensitive ears. My skull rings with the aftershocks of the volley as I watch the guards.struggle to wedge their armored bodies through the ruined portrait and hurry after Serylla in single file.

“Such a ruckus,” comments a pleasant voice behind Rahzien. Lady Cathrain, the healer, in the same dark brown dress, but without her flowered shawl.

“You’re here at last,” says Rahzien. “It seems your solution worked.”

“Of course it did.” She beams at him. “When have I failed you?”

“Not yet.” He gives her a fond half-smile.