Page 132 of A Kingdom of Wild and Power
‘You’re not turning into that insufferable drakonian princess again, are you?’
‘Fuck off, Kai.’ She slapped his hand away, eyes flashing. ‘If you’re going to be irritating and of no use…’
‘You wound me.’
‘I’m sure I do.’
Beyond them, King Siroc was already mounting one of the immense sand serpents, its scaled body rippling beneath him like living dunes. His son followed close behind, the creature’s long shadow coiling over the sun-bleached ground. The Saqar were positioned upon other serpents, their veils fluttering like dark banners in the wind.
Alina caught Isla and Arena standing beside the king’s son, speaking in low, hurried tones. The young prince listenedintently before they dipped their heads and broke away.
They returned without explanation.
Alina gave them a sharp, questioning look, waiting for answers that did not come. Instead, they moved briskly towards the dragons and mounted in silence.
‘About time,’ Alina muttered when Dawn finally appeared.
‘Fuck off, Alina,’ the witch shot back, not breaking stride.
‘Well,’ Mareena murmured lightly, her lips curving with quiet amusement, ‘it seems everyone is in a mood today. This shall be a very interesting ride.’
Alina shot her a pointed look and then, despite herself, felt the corner of her mouth lift. She turned and grasped the scales of her dragon, hauling herself up onto the back as the creature’s wings flexed in anticipation.
The sand serpents began to move, vast bodies undulating across the desert.
The dragons unfurled their wings and Mareena’s phoenix let out a piercing cry, warning the heavens of their departure.
Yes.
It was going to be a very interesting journey indeed.
If I had to do it all over again, I would.
For him.
Tabitha Wysteria
Adriana had passed the last few weeks within the wyverian castle in a strange, suspended calm. Beyond the black stone walls, the winds howled as they always did, but inside, time seemed to move in hushed increments around a single, failing bed.
Keir, her husband, had worsened with each passing day. What had begun as weariness had become frailty; what had been frailty was now near ruin. He lay bedridden, unable to leave their chambers without aid, breath shallow, skin too pale against the dark linens. The mortal vessel he inhabited was no longer strong enough to contain a god of his magnitude. Divinity pressed against flesh that could no longer bear it.
Many believed, and had always believed, that Adriana, known in the god realms as Themis, had married Keir solely because he was one of the Originals. To wed an Original was to secure influence, privilege, power beyond measure. Theywere said to have been the first sparks of divinity in existence, the beginning of all that followed.
But the truth was far simpler. And far more dangerous.
Adriana had married him because she had fallen in love.
Yes, perhaps his status had intrigued her in the beginning; it would have been foolish to deny that. But once she had come to know him—the quiet steadiness of him, the mind that carried centuries yet still marvelled at small things—something deep and aching had taken root inside her. It had grown slowly, stubbornly, until it became inseparable from her own being.
Now she could not imagine an existence without him.
That morning, she had spent long hours with King Ozul, speaking in low, measured tones about what was to come. He had returned weeks earlier with an immense wyverian army, one he had spent months gathering in secret, forging strength from scattered loyalties.
Adriana had informed him that Mal had left with Ash to bear her child somewhere hidden from prying eyes.
There would be no more time for hesitation.
They needed to march on the witches, and soon.
