Xander emerged from the sacred nest to absolute silence. Eyes fell on the blood staining his chest and then darted to the gaping emptiness behind him, but no mouths moved. No one questioned as he took to the sky. Not his mother. Not Helen. Not the guards. As though something in his gaze had stolen the breath from their lungs, making them mute.
He was numb, still reeling, lost in the chaos of his own confusion.
How have I been so blind?
Everything was so obvious now—so painfully, achingly obvious.
The white feather he’d found on the bridge those many weeks ago? Lyana. The mysterious woman who helped heal Rafe from the dragon wounds? Lyana. The reason for the smile that had been lurking on his brother’s lips during their stay in the House of Peace? Lyana. The reason it had disappeared the second they’d landed here? Lyana.
All Lyana.
And Rafe.
Two players in a game he hadn’t even known was underway.
But that didn’t explain what had happened to Lyana when they entered the sacred nest. Why had she fallen to the ground? Who was that man who had wielded such lethal power? Why had his isle rattled so precariously in the sky? And where was Lyana being taken? Because he had known without a doubt, as an invisible pressure shoved his chest and her shout rang in his ears, that she was going somewhere he wouldn’t be able to follow. That she was gone.
Go.
Go.
Go.
The word played over and over in his mind as he soared over the forests of his homeland, back to the city of Pylaeon.
Fly.
Flee.
Go.
Go.
As he crested the ridge of Taetanos’s Gate and the valley slipped into view, he stopped dead. Black smoke billowed in the sky. Gray dust formed a cloud over the city. Angry flames enveloped the castle. And now that he’d been pulled from his own mind, he could hear the anguished screams and cries of his people.
A roar shattered the air.
The dragon emerged from beneath the edge, a vision, a nightmare, so familiar Xander could do nothing but hope the beast disappeared, just a dark memory come back to haunt. Suddenly, he was back in his room, a boy, watching through the curtains as his city burned, too afraid to move, too afraid to fight, waiting for word from his mother that it was safe. A boy running through the charred halls of his castle. A boy finding his father too late and pulling his brother from the wreckage he’d had to face alone.
Go.
Go.
The word continued to ring, but he found the voice had changed, no longer Lyana’s, but his own.
Go.
Go.
A million moments flashed through his eyes as the dragon landed on the castle wall and sent a blast of flame into the sky, so hot that a wave of heat struck his cheek. Xander letting his sword fall to the grass and walking from the practice yards, looking over his shoulder to realize his father hadn’t even noticed he’d gone. Xander sitting alone in the tallest spire of the castle, no company but his books as he watched other children splash in the fountains so far below. Xander putting the royal seal around his brother’s neck and disappearing at the first hint of danger. Xander anxiously waiting in the guest accommodations as his brother fought his battles for him. Xander afraid to approach his mate. Xander hesitant. And nervous. And running, always running from the things that scared him.
Go.
Fly.
Go.
Fight.
Go!
The voice grew into a shout that splintered his thoughts. All the anger that had been boiling beneath his skin exploded into a raging inferno. His mind went blank. His vision turned red. For the first time in his life, he let his invisible fist unfurl, releasing all the hate and the loathing and the bitterness he wasn’t supposed to feel. He let the darkness take him. He let go.
Xander pumped his wings and raced for his home.
He didn’t think.
He didn’t question.
He just acted, plunging over the edge of the waterfall and following the path of the river. He had no weapon. No magic. No hope to best the type of beast it had once taken twenty of the finest guards to bring down. All he had was the unyielding sense that if he didn’t do something, if he didn’t for once in his life face his own demons, if he ran, he would die anyway. And he would rather die a hero than the coward he feared he’d always been.
Shouts for him to stop echoed. Shrieks begged for help. Cries of all kinds littered the air—of pain, of fear, of heartbreak, of hope. He heard them all, letting every piercing wail flood his blood, a fuel unlike any he’d ever known before.
With a beat of its leathery wings, the dragon launched into the air.
They flew toward each other, two enemies on a collision course only one would survive. Xander wasn’t an idiot—he knew his odds. Yet he found he couldn’t stop, even as the beast grew, doubling then tripling in size as it neared. Fire rippled across its skin. The blood-red eyes narrowed. Razor-sharp claws flexed. The dragon inhaled, chest expanding, preparing for the killing blow. Xander snapped his wings forward and stopped, hovering in the air.
Then he screamed.
It was no raven cry.
No god call.
There was nothing but raw human emotion, guttural and real, spewing from the volcanic pressure of being pent up for so long. But somehow, it worked.
The dragon reared, crying out in pain.
Xander blinked, first in confusion, then in victory. And then he noticed the arrow stuck through the beast’s eye.
He spun.
Cassi floated behind him, covered in patches of blood, her bow pulled tight. Her silver gaze jumped to him, holding a deadly intent he’d never seen before. The point of her arrow was aimed directly at his heart. His heartbeat thundered. Her wings pumped. They watched each other across the distance as the world slowed for a moment, then two.
She released.
The arrow flew so close Xander heard the whistle as it sailed by, felt the shift in the air, then the beast behind them howled. A wave of fire slammed into his back. Xander crashed into the river below for protection. By the time he emerged from the water, his guards were there. Spears soared through the air toward the beast, along with more arrows, daggers, and blades. The dragon roared a final time before racing away and disappearing into the sky.
A deafening silence followed.
Water droplets slipped down his clothes, falling on the stone like soft rain. Cassi dropped to her hands and knees, an empty retching sound tearing up her throat. Xander stumbled to her side and pressed her shoulder. Her head snapped in his direction. He realized, for the first time, that her eyes were bloodshot with exhaustion and worry. There was only one thing he could think to say.
“She’s gone.”
Cassi looked away and swallowed, visibly choked up. Though she tried to hide it, a tear leaked from the corner of her eye and traveled over the contour of her cheek before dropping to the ground.
The sight was his undoing. Xander wrapped the owl in his arms, because he had so many questions and so few answers, but this one problem he knew how to solve. At first, she stiffened, so tense he almost pulled away. But after a moment, her arms closed around him, clasping tightly, as though he were the last bit of life she could hold on to.
“It’s all right,” he soothed. “Let it go. Let it out. I’m here. You’re safe in my home. Always.”
She didn’t cry, or sob, or fall apart.
But she didn’t let go either.
She clung to him as her body silently shook and a torrent of feeling was unleashed, something deeper than he understood, but he didn’t have to understand. He just had to be there to hold her through it, to be strong as she clutched him for support—because in truth, the embrace was as much for him as it was for her. Her arms were a comfort he wasn’t ready to lose. Not yet. Not when he’d never felt more alone.
No mate.
No brother.
As he watched the crowd around them gather, Xander couldn’t help but notice the silent question in his people’s eyes, the way their gazes darted to the sky searching for their future queen, then to the destruction caused by the dragon, then to their prince. The streets were still covered in a fine layer rose petals and feathers, but now they were also covered in splatters of blood and broken bits of stone. Whispers filled the quiet. He didn’t need to hear them to know exactly what was being said.
Dragon.
Fire cursed.
Where’s the princess?
Where’s the bastard?
He took her.
He stole her.
Worst of all, there was a wary shadow as they looked at Xander, something he’d never seen before—dark and dangerous doubts wondering why he hadn’t saved her. Wondering if the fire god had claimed him, too. Wondering if their crown prince was still their savior.
His mother’s words came back to haunt. Frightened gossip has the power to bring a kingdom to its knees.
Xander shut his eyes.
He didn’t want to see, didn’t want to hear.
He buried his head in Cassi’s neck.
“We’ll get her back,” he murmured as they clutched each other, the center of a growing audience, but for the moment in their own private world.
We’ll get them back.
Rafe. Lyana.
He’d find them.
He’d make everything right.
He’d get the answers he needed.
Who that man was. Where he’d come from. What he wanted.
We’ll get them back.
We’ll get them back.
I promise.
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Want the free prequel novella?
The Princess and the Pawn is a free prequel novella taking place the day before The Raven and the Dove begins. Follow Rafe on his flight to the House of Peace, watch Lyana plan her escape from the crystal palace, and travel beneath the mist to visit with the mysterious King Malek.
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