Glass shattered as Corvus threw the jar down as hard as he could. I sucked in a breath and stumbled back as the blood seemed to expand on the stone floor. Nothing was happening. I squeezed Kael’s hand. Maybe this was all just a big misun—
“Look!” Alden shouted, pointing at the puddle. My eyes widened as it began growing up from the ground, in a pillar at first, and then morphing into the shape of a dragon. Just like the ones we’d survived in the woods. The beast was made entirely of blood and was just as red. It seemed alive. The way it arched its back and swiveled its massive head around, as if it could see each one of us.
“Bloody hell,” Kael whispered, stunned.
Corvus approached the blood dragon and put two hands against his creation’s head. With a single word, the dragon roared and reared back. Dumbstruck, I stared in disbelief as the dragon’s red color began falling to the ground. Shimmers of silver began to shine through.
“By the Goddess,” I gasped. It was silver.
The sorcerer let his hands fall, and with it, the dragon and the blood vanished, leaving only a tendril of smoke behind. He looked right at King Ero and lifted a brow. “Your Majesty, this man is your son.”
“What?!” Evander shouted.
Riv erupted with laughter, startling me. “Didn’t see that coming.”
“Where are you from?” Ero asked Kael.
I looked between Kael and Ero, to Torin and Kael.
That’s why Torin had seemed familiar to me when I first met him. They had the same eyes. Now that they were practically side by side, the resemblance was undeniable.
“The outskirts of The Final Fields.” Kael faltered on his feet, and I struggled to hold him, fearing I was going down with him. Warmth brushed my arm, and I gasped, looking over to find Dair at Kael’s other side, helping me support his weight. My heart clenched as I was held there, captive within his green stare. His thumb brushed my arm, and the expression on his face was full of longing, but there was a sadness beneath his desire for me. I couldn’t bear to see it, so I severed the connection, pulling my arm from behind Kael’s back to his arm instead. Averting my eyes rid me of the realization that any plans we’d made were futile. Words were being said, but my mind couldn’t process everything that had just happened in this room.
I needed a moment. One moment to breathe. But as I looked up, I realized there was no escape. Torin glared at me, his eyes bouncing from me to Dair. He’d clearly just witnessed our silent conversation, and he wasn’t happy about it.
The king hummed and tapped his chin. “How old are you?”
“I’m twenty-two, Your Majesty.”
Torin’s murderous gaze snapped from me to Kael and then to his father. “This is outrageous, Father. You can’t seriously believe—”
Ero held up his hand to Torin. “Silence.”
Torin was nineteen. Kael was twenty-two. That would mean he would be the next in line for the throne, and since this had all happened very publicly, it wasn’t like Ero couldn’t claim him, regardless of whatever internal feelings he had on the matter.
The tension in the air was so thick it physically felt hard to take a breath.
“Well then, Kael, is it?” Ero asked, and Kael nodded. “Welcome to the Volos family, Son.”
The room exploded with voices. Some angry, some curious.
Ero raised his hand, and the chatter died down. “We’ll continue the ceremony. Someone get my son a chair. Can’t you see he’s close to collapsing again?” A chair was produced in seconds, and Dair helped Kael into it. “Now, we’ll continue the ceremony.”
“Will he get to participate in the ceremony?” King Ekpen questioned, rubbing his thumb across the coarse stubble of his beard.
King Eamon scoffed. “He didn’t meet the requirements! His dragon will fade before we even make it back to the mainland.”
“It’s true.” Corvus stepped closer to Ero. “Without the spilling of blood, the curse will block the gene from taking.”
“See? He can’t be a true Volos without his beast!” Evander shouted, looking victorious.
I frowned, looking down at Kael. His eyelids were drooping, exhaustion desperately trying to take him under. My brow furrowed as I pushed his curly blond hair off his right shoulder and sucked in a breath. A perfectly shaped, dried, bloody handprint marked his pale skin—like someone had grasped his shoulder.
“Kael?” I asked loudly, interrupting the bickering that was going on.
“Hmm?” he hummed, his head bobbing.
“Where did this come from?” His eyes closed, and I shook him back awake. This was too important. He jerked before his eyes met mine.
