Page 141 of Dhampira

Lorcan’s long lashes swept his cheeks. “I was the youngest dragon rider in recorded history. In Drachvi, nobles and commoners alike can be fireborn. The gift flows in blood, not names.”

“And it flowed thick in you,” I said.

He kept his eyes downcast. “The dragons could shape-shift, even taking a man’s form for short periods of time. They could speak telepathically, but only among themselves and in their rider’s mind. The bond between dragon and rider is unique in all of Nocta.” His lashes swept up, his dark eyes meeting mine. “Was unique,” he corrected. “The dragons are dead. Nymruk was the last of his kind.”

I found his hand on the blanket between us. “Why did Nymruk burn you?”

“A dragon rider’s robes are part ceremonial, part practical. We soak them in blood and ash and then infuse them with magic. Even the best riders catch a lick of fire from time to time. The robes protect the skin from blistering.”

The memory of Iggleboddle summoning crimson fabric formed in my head…I’ll wear my own robe, Lorcan had said, his tone uncompromising.

“Drachvi was the last part of Nocta to fall,” Lorcan said. “I was prepared to fall with it. My people were being slaughtered. The dragons were almost gone. By the time he turned his sights to us, Rasimir had been hunting and draining witches for centuries. He fought with vors, and we fought with swords and the Matasi.” Lorcan made a soft, negative sound. “The knights from the Drakhold laughed at us.”

My heart ached, and my voice was low as I said, “I saw vampires with solid black eyes in the vision.”

Lorcan nodded. “Rasimir wasn’t lying when he told you others among his court have stolen magic through dead blood. Dozens have managed it over the years. But none have lasted very long. They lose their minds, and Rasimir is forced to kill them.”

“But not you,” I said.

He held my gaze. “I had Vander.”

Gratitude—and another, more tentative emotion—swelled my chest. “I guess he’s not so bad.”

Lorcan gave a crack of genuine laughter, the sound deep and rusty, like he never used it. Which he didn’t, I realized. He had little to laugh about in the Drakhold.

Then again, he came from a people who prized control. They had to. Losing it meant plummeting thousands of feet or roasting in a plume of fire.

“You asked why Nymruk burned me,” Lorcan said, sobering. “The night before I battled Rasimir for the last time, Nym and I agreed that he would flee the field if I died. We believed there was a good chance his mate was still alive and in hiding. As the last two dragons, they had a duty to preserve the race.”

Dread gathered under my heart. I’d seen how the story ended, but knowing didn’t make things any easier.

“Nym was badly wounded,” Lorcan said. “But he could still fly, so I dismounted and told him to go. As I headed toward the battlefield, he ripped away my robes.” Lorcan’s brow furrowed, and his voice went tight. “It should have been impossible.”

“Why?” I rasped.

“When a rider and dragon bond, they vow that only betrayal will separate them. These vows aren’t just words, Corinthe. Once bonded, a rider and his dragon can’t kill each other without a betrayal severing their bond. Nym shouldn’t have been able to burn me.”

“But he did,” I whispered, the vision of Lorcan’s agonized face flashing in my head.

“He meant to kill me,” Lorcan said. “And he didn’t stop trying until I killed him.”

I covered my mouth with my free hand. “Lorcan…”

“I know why he did it,” Lorcan murmured, “even if I don’t understand how he did it. Rasimir saw everything. Nym made sure of it. The second Nym burned me, he signaled to the whole world that I’d broken our bond. But he didn’t need to tell the world.”

“Just Rasimir,” I said, lowering my hand.

Lorcan gave a solemn nod. “The King of the Drachvi killed the last dragon in the world. Rasimir believed I had betrayed my bonded dragon to save my own neck. It was the only thing that could have persuaded him to trust me.”

But Lorcan had lost Nymruk—and his crown. At the ball, the Drachvi had turned their backs as Lorcan and I twirled past them.

“Ask your question,” Lorcan said softly.

No matter how much I wanted to, I couldn’t muster a smile at his teasing. “Why do your people dislike you?”

“They’re proud,” he said, his dark eyes steady. “They saw the final battle, too. They never would have stopped trying to avenge me. One of the first witches I drained possessed dismenti. I used it on every Drachvi I could find, erasing Nym’s actions from their minds.”

I knew my eyes were wide. “And you can’t reverse it.”