Page 131 of House of Ashes

With aching shoulder muscles, I drove the sword under his armpit, through his torso, angling for his heart.

He gasped and wheezed, arms going slack. The Bloodless woman tore herself free, snatching the dagger from his loosened grip.

With a snarl, her teeth bared and face splattered with blood, she plunged the dagger into his chest. Over and over again, the blade skidding off my own sword more than once.

I tugged it free of his convulsing form, reaching out for her. “Stop. He’s dead now.”

The woman buried it in his guts one more time, panting, and looked up at me. Took in my scales with wide, shocked eyes. She didn’t seem entirely aware of where she was, or what was going on…but she released the dagger, stumbling back towards the shop.

I looked over my shoulder and saw right through the shattered face of the building. Children, as fair-haired as the woman, huddled at the back, behind the shelves.

“Will you do a scouting run?” I asked the wyvern-rider, turning away from the children. They were safe…for now. As long as Rhylan kept Kalros occupied. “Are there any more Bloodless under Kalros’s command?”

The girl grinned at me, teeth bright white against her brown skin. “On it.”

She chirped to the violet wyvern, taking to the sky and leaving the square clear. Now she was out of harm’s way, more or less; Kalros crashed into a townhouse, screaming, and came rushing across the square to escape Rhylan.

My dragon was slowing, his sides heaving like bellows, scales slick and wet. There was no sign of my Rhylan in his burning gaze.

Kalros had been burned so badly there was no flesh left on his face. Even his eyes had been boiled from their sockets. I took in the charred ruin, bits of white bone peeking out of the destruction, and abruptly fell to my knees, vomiting up what little was in my stomach.

The blood on my hands was still warm and slick. I regretted nothing.

But I couldn’t stop the violent heaves that clamped around my middle, forcing me to spit over and over.

Kalros screamed, wings spreading wide, and flung himself into the sky. He wheeled, wavering in midair as though he’d crash…but he leveled out, racing blindly for the open mountains.

I forced myself up onto shaking knees, squinting as I drew my arm over my mouth. With the town’s buildings mostly so much rubble, I could see the mountains in the distance…and the iron-gray glint of a dragon wheeling, the tiniest glint of gold on his back.

Yura and Tidas, so close I could almost touch them…but my dragon wasn’t going anywhere.

Kalros met with them, other exiles running from the fight, all racing to escape the dragons of Lunar Tides and their allies.

My lip curled. “If you’d been braver, we could have settled this here and now.”

But Yura would never enter a fight on her own, not if others were willing to throw away their lives on her behalf.

Doric soared overhead, his shadow racing across the square. Several other shadows joined in, until all the light had been blocked out.

I looked up, seeing the pale white hide and knobby spines of Gaelin, the delicate frills and ruffled webbing of the Lunar Tides dragons. They roared their victory, even as they soared above ruins.

Across the square, Rhylan coughed. Blood poured from him in a flood, soaking the stones underfoot.

I sprinted across the square, almost slipping in a vast, nearly-black puddle. I dropped my sword without thinking, reaching up for him.

He closed his flaming eyes, head bowed with exhaustion. I pressed myself to his forehead, my body bent over his snout, holding him. The heat of dragonfire burned into me through my torn leathers.

“You have to shift back,” I said desperately, my voice breaking. “You’re going to bleed out. Shift back.”

He sighed, exhaling smoke. Deep gouges had been scored along his sides, the back of his neck was a red ruin…I swallowed the lump in my sour throat and tried to shake his head. He had to stay awake. “Shift back, Rhylan!”

Gods, if I’d just imposed my will on the bond…I could call him back from primal rage, from going too deep into the dragon’s mind and giving way to the fury of this form.

He couldn’t hear me like this.

“Please, Rhylan,” I whispered, laying my cheek on his burning scales, ignoring the scorch of pain. I stroked the ridges above his eyes, hands slick and blistered.

“He’s gone rather deep,” Maristela’s voice said behind me, thick with concern. I didn’t bother to look at her. I didn’t care.