Elaina recoiled and slipped down the mound of coins. “No!”
Nastav ignored her. “You need treasure. I have no use for it any longer.”
“It is not yet time for you to die. There is so much I need to learn.”
“You have learned everything of importance. Giving my life in service to love is more than I had hoped.”
“I will not do it.”
“Even now, Volus is nearing this location, and I will not help you find another dragon in my place.”
“Maybe I would rather die than kill you.”
He gave an impatient snort. “Yes, I believe you would.” A cloud of smoke puffed from his mouth in his version of a sigh. “Tell me, what is the significance of the ring on your hand? Why have you not claimed it?”
Against her will, her focus landed on her engagement ring. “It is from Alex.”
She struggled to explain its meaning within the limited Drakish vocabulary. “It is a symbol of the promise he has made to me. That we would be committed to each other for the rest of our lives. It is meant to be seen by other humans.”
“Would you break your promise to him?”
The argument that she hadn’t promised him anything sat ready on her tongue, but she stopped herself. That fact was simply a technicality. In her heart, she had committed to him.
“Do it for him. Do it for me. Give my life meaning.”
“I–I cannot.”
Her vow of non-violence meant something, and she wasn’t sure she could toss it away even for her murderous father. So she certainly couldn’t violate her beliefs by killing someone she cared for.
His head reared up, and he snorted. “No. That is not possible.” He concentrated on the cave entrance. “Great Daughter, get a sword. Your life is in danger.”
The Drakish language had no way to express sarcasm, but her eye roll conveyed the message.
Smoke huffed from his nostrils. “I do not lie to you.”
“Is it my father?”
His silence stretched on so long she was sure he was trying to make up an excuse. His eventual answer didn’t change her mind. “Volus is in the region, but this... This is something else.”
Her senses told her nothing. But maybe something was out there. Her abilities were minuscule compared to his.
His voice rumbled against her ribs. “Now.”
The power behind his tone convinced her more than anything else. She sprinted to the treasure pile behind her and searched for a weapon. A bright silver sword caught her eye. She grasped the blade’s hilt and returned to his side.
He captured her gaze. “Now kill me.”
Her limbs went numb, and she staggered back. Kill him? What about the threat approaching the cave?
She was about to accuse him of tricking her when a glint shone on one of his scales. A teardrop rolled down his temple, leaving a trail of glittering amethyst blood.
The acrid taste of burnt tar singed up her throat. The last—and only—time she’d seen dragon blood was when her mother had been killed. Dragons didn’t bleed without severe injury. They just didn’t.
Tears were rare enough, much less a bloody one.
How damaged was he inside?
“Great Daughter, you need to gain strength for whatever is coming. You need it now. But if you will not do it for yourself, do it for me. For love.”
The sparkling line of blood seized her thoughts. How much pain was he in? How long had he waited alone in this cave for someone to come and release him from his suffering?
Whether or not something dangerous neared their location, this great and noble creature shouldn’t suffer because she was too weak to do what he asked. Her fingers tightened on the hilt. She couldn’t fail him.
She’d do it for mercy. For him.
For love.
She tried not to think about what she was doing. Murdering her grandfather. A creature wiser than any she had known.
“For love,” she repeated.
She plunged the sword between the overlapping armor plates on his belly, below the dragon-equivalent of his sternum, where his glowing heart lay under the slight gap between the plates. His head dropped onto the coins, jingling them as they scattered.
He enunciated the Drakish words clearly and strongly, “Szōrë waj dosarý načini zhè vadëkus.” This is a good way to die.
As his heart beat its last, his body shrank, changing to his natural humanoid form. The ruffled collar and sleeveless coat he wore with that form were centuries out-of-date, proving how long he’d been restricted to this cave, slowly dying.
For the first time, she saw her grandfather’s true features and recognized the resemblance to her own. A smile grew upon his face, filling her with peace and warmth.
And then, all too soon, the blue glow of his eyes faded. He was gone.
The cave felt colder—and countless times emptier.
No... What had she done?
“I’m so sorry.” She fell to her knees at his side, her chest a solid lump of lead. The mass weighed on her lungs, and she couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t express her sorrow.
The orange glow grew in his torso. Flames escaped his pierced heart and consumed his body from the inside out. Within seconds, only a charred shape remained.
She sagged on her hands and knees. How could she live with herself?
Murderer.
So much wasted life, and for what? Her fingertips dug into the coins. It was metal. Only metal. Dragons could survive on a pile a fraction this size. But no, they were the ultimate greedy addicts.
She wanted to crush the coins. Punish them for being responsible for all the heartbreak in her life. Punish them for turning her into someone she didn’t want to be.
Murderer.
She opened her senses, wanting to reshape the circles into a grotesque form to match her emotions. Power surged through her palms into the treasure.
Rather than deforming the metal, the energy made her one with the gold and silver. Before she could stop it, she became part of the pile, and the pile became part of her. Against her intentions, she claimed the mound of coins Nastav had used for a bed.
The rush of power roared in her ears, her eyes, her head. Heat burned in her torso, searing her organs. The tiny pilot light in her heart exploded into a full, blazing fire.
Dizziness forced her to collapse, and prickles stung her skin so hard her limbs became numb. Her mourning dulled the normal inebriated sensation. Instead, she felt adrift, uncertain where she ended and her new treasure stockpile began.
She’d succeeded in getting stronger, but the victory was hollow. She’d lost yet another family member who loved her.
Blackness prodded her temples, tempting her to sleep off the vertigo. She didn’t resist.
Death would be a welcome fate.