Crap, I need to get up to speed on this stuff if I’m to navigate all this craziness. My pulse quickens and my gaze drops in thought.
If I help Dracoth, I help myself.But he’s like a giant red bull in a china shop, though. I can help him! Yes! A woman’s perspective and my calming influence are just what he needs! It’ll be fun, like a sexy team—the power couple to end all power couples.
Ignixis suddenly stiffens, his eyes darting toward the tunnel.
“Someone’s coming,” he mutters.
I already know who it is, the roaring flame drawing near in my mind’s eyes.
“It’s Dracoth,” I mutter, feeling my heart racing with excitement more eager to see him than ever.
Ignixis recoils, almost slipping on the ice in his haste to retreat from me.
“I pray his disposition has improved,” he sighs, clearing his throat and straightening his black robes.
The sound of armored boots crunching against the ice grows louder, echoing through the frozen passage. Ignixis and I both stand silent, waiting, tension thick in the air.
My fiery future approaches.
Chapter 38
Dracoth
Princess
Ifeelher—mybondedfemale.She’s close now, very close, no longer haunted by the gnawing fear or creeping numbness I once sensed. Instead, the female—whoever she is—radiates a sense of excitement, faint in the back of my mind, leaving a vague impression.
Good.
To lose her now would be a tragedy. The thought of my glorious destiny succumbing to mere cold twists my guts and bares my fangs. Still, despite her apparent safety, I hasten through the biting, ankle-deep snow, eager to learn her identity.
The frozen wind howls, the snowflakes whip across my face, stabbing like icy shards, and the purple sunlight reflecting off the crystalline surface blinds me with its shimmer. Yet I stridethrough the frozen wasteland like an erupting volcano, leaving pools of melted snow in my wake. The heat from my body melts the pathetic frost that clings to me like a dying warrior’s desperate clutch, sending plumes of mist swirling into the storm.
I squint through the glare and swirling snow. I see a domed structure of ice, half-buried beneath mounds of snow, like some shelled beast hibernating from the biting cold. But nothing escapes the scorching heat I exude.
The thick snow crunches underfoot as I near it, forced to duck my head to pass through the tunnel-like entrance.
Inside, light fractures off countless angled surfaces, casting a dizzying display that assaults my senses. Already I hear the hushed breaths of those within. They know I’m here. There’s more than one—someone besides my bonded female, the architect of this icy tomb.
The tunnel ends. My gaze snaps to the figure in the center.
Princesa.
The female who challenges me endlessly, the one who irks me at every opportunity. I almost laugh, tasting the bitter irony. The Gods, it seems, have a sense of humor—or perhaps this is their final test, a divine challenge to prove I’m worthy of my power.
My fiery blood surges through my veins, taking in the sight of her. She stands different somehow; perhaps it’s confidence or a haughty regality she now feigns, wearing it like a new mantle. The female is as fickle as the most pampered high merchant queen. Now, she is mine—bonded to me for eternity, like a wild hydralith I must control, only now we’re chained to each other.
She is beautiful, though. The frost clings to her wavy blonde hair, catching the refracted light, while her curves, draped in furs and leathers, draw my eye despite myself. Her lips quirk into a small smile—a rare expression on her face, and one I don’t understand.
What does it mean?
I approach her with deliberate, heavy steps, conscious of the slippery ice underfoot. My gaze scans the room, each detail raising more questions. Frozen cyloillars line the walls, their bodies entombed in ice. A melted circle surrounds Princesa, and at its edge, Ignixis stalks along the edge like a shadow, hoping to remain unseen. Our gazes meet, and to his credit, he shows no fear—only a smirk highlighted by the fevered glow of his green eyes.
Whatever this is, he’s responsible.
The questions multiply in my mind. A black-and-red cyloillar perches atop Princesa’s shoulder, clacking its mandibles as I draw near.
I frown, wondering how this creature from the soft lands of Draxxi survives the biting cold, and why it has the audacity to sit upon my bonded female, as if it holds any claim to her.
