“Strange?” Princesa echoes, letting out a sharp exhale. “We’re not strange, are we, Todd?” She rustles in my arm, gently petting the clacking creature. “No, no, of course we’re not.”
I press forward, striding southwest through the immense frosted trees, navigating the dense thickets that choke the path.
“We’re not in any danger, are we?” Princesa’s voice cuts through the quiet, her fingers stroking her pet as her gaze flits toward the sky. “Everyone keeps going on about arrohawks. Are there really so many, or do they just love following me around?”
“There’s enough,” I growl, casting a watchful eye skyward. Only an overcast haze meets my gaze. “But you are safe, as long as I draw breath,” I offer, fixing my attention on the dense foliage ahead.
“Wow,” Princesa exclaims, her tone softening with surprise. “That was almost... romantic.” She nestles deeper, her softness encasing my arm in her faint warmth. “You don’t know how much those words mean to me, Dracoth,” she murmurs, barely audible beneath her breath.
I frown slightly, confused by her reaction.
“The truth.” I would kill to protect her. She is my bonded female, soon to be Mortakin-Kis.Does she doubt I’d rip out the heart of any who dared hurt her?
“We need to control our powers,” she mutters, stifling a yawn, sounding dozy. “If we do, we’ll be unstoppable.”
If—the word hangs like a dark cloud, promising nourishing rain but possibly concealing treacherous lightning. Should therebe a way, we will find it. And should Krogoth lack the ability... then my victory over him will be a trifle.
Yet the thought is unsatisfactory. I don’t want an easy triumph. No. I want to stare into his eyes as my hands wring the life from his neck, so he dies knowing he had no right to shame me—knowing I am the strongest!
“Mmm... Queen Lexie...” Princesa murmurs, her voice drifting into a sleepy hum before she begins snoring softly.
“Soon,” I whisper, letting my fingers trail through the silken waves of her long blonde hair.
“I swear it.”
Chapter 43
Dracoth
Untangle
Forhours,Itrackthe path southwest, seeking the temple of Lanaisor. The hunter’s directions were helpful, but unnecessary—I know its location. Princesa rests nestled against my left arm, her soft snores somehow unbothered by the dangers lurking in the Draxxi wilderness. Strange, for one so easily frightened, to sleep soundly in a place where even hardened warriors tread lightly.
Beasts, both great and small, hunt these immense woods. Their calls echo like spirits inhabiting these dark forests. From the shadows, I sense the gleam of red eyes watching, waiting. Arrohawks circle above, swooping through billowing clouds to snatch squealing prey from the treetops. Yet, none dareapproach. They must sense the fury radiating from me—the primal strength that pulses with every step. They are wise to flee.
“Are we there yet?” Princesa murmurs drowsily, rubbing sleep from her eyes.
Her question irks me, laced with entitlement and lazy expectation. She must grow stronger—not just in mind, but in body—if she is to reach her potential.
“No,” I growl, gently lowering her to the ground.
“Huh?” Princesa protests, clinging to my arm like a mollusk from the great lake. “Ah, don’t be a prick, Dracoth,” her voice still thick with sleep as I pry her delicate fingers from my bicep. “I was so warm...”
“It’s warmer here,” I state flatly, gesturing to the red-tinted foliage around us, now lacking the frosted tips and fluttering ice crystals, though plumes of my molten breath still mist through the chilly air.
“It’s still cold,” she complains, hugging herself for warmth. A flicker of regret almost compels me to scoop her up again.
What is this?Loathsome empathy. It will weaken us both.
“Aren’t you supposed to look after me?” she adds, her silver eyes narrowing behind the haze of her tiny frosty exhalations.
“Yes,” I reply, steering her southward with a firm hand resting on the supple curve of her back. “Decadence weakens both body and mind.” The lesson of Arawnoth—the universal truth.
“I’d hardly call this decadence!” Princesa snorts, spreading her arms wide to gesture at the wild, thriving forest. “What’s decadent about this? Blisters and frostbite? Being eaten?” She crosses her arms, her voice rising with irritation. “I don’t get the point. My ex-boyfriends would be embarrassed to treat me like this.”
Her harsh words and angry glare strike like the fiercest blows.Something’s changed in me—the bond it twists and screws mymind into something weak. Where once I would have felt cold indifference, now there is worthless jealousy.
“Nothing to say?” she presses, her voice growing sharper. “You’re just going to let me freeze to—”
