Page 230 of The Reckoning of Starlight

Then the prince turned, his gaze finding Serenna first. In the days since the battle, they’d woven their Wells back together again by choice. Now the restored bond warmed from his attention, familiar and newly made at once. His eyes rested on her before drifting to Sharyne bound against Fenn’s torso.

Serenna approached with Fenn at her side, leaving the spires and their whispers at her back.

“Are you sure you don’t want a portal?” Serenna asked Skylash, glancing toward the dragons still tangled in the grass. “The hatchlings—”

“They will gain strength in the sky,” Skylash hissed. “They’ve been coddled far too long in the desert with that Emberhart whelp.”

Serenna pressed her lips together.

There’d been twenty-two hatchlings safe in the nursery at Asharyn. Twenty-two, with wings too large for their bodies and storm, frost, and fire already kindling beneath their scales.

Now only fourteen remained.

Fourteen, though some part of her still counted helplessly for the eight that should’ve followed. She didn’t know where Galaeryn’s portal had cast them or if they’d emerged somewhere without sky. Vasharax’s absence hurt worst of all, a missing ember her mind kept reaching for and finding only ash.

The druids kept saying that they’d saved the realms, but Serenna could still count all they hadn’t.

Vesryn’s fingers brushed the back of her hand, his touch lingering just long enough to blunt the ache.

“Where will you go?” he asked Veyrix. “Back to the Aetherveil?”

“Perhaps,” the dragon mused, scanning the sky. “These lands appear to have rearranged themselves in our absence. Very inconvenient. And I’m sure Skylash will have opinions about where we should claim our new domain.”

Skylash’s violet gaze pinned on him. “While you were busy sleeping in your chains, I scouted most of these realms. My opinions are earned.” Her head swung to Serenna. “And before you ask, I would not deign to tell the likes of you.”

Serenna put her hands on her hips. “How gracious of you to preserve the mystery.”

Skylash lifted her lip until an ivory fang gleamed near Serenna’s shoulder. “You possess my boon and mistake it for an invitation. Do not think I failed to notice you gave the tide what was promised to the storm. I have yet to determine what breaking our bargain should cost you. When your little services are required, you will heed my summons.”

“Of course,” Serenna muttered. At least Skylash had decided to postpone the execution for not turning all of the Unbound eggs. “I’ll eagerly await our reunion.”

Lightning flickered in Skylash’s eyes before she shoved her snout between the two tangled hatchlings and nosed them apart.

“Enough,” she growled. “We fly.”

Her vast shoulders rolled as she hauled herself down the slope, wing talons hooking in the grass. The hatchlings scrambled after her, tripping over their wings as they snapped at one another’s legs.

At the hill’s edge, Skylash hurled herself skyward.

Her first downstroke struck the hill like thunder, flattening the grass and driving the air from Serenna’s lungs. Amethyst wings swept wide across the morning, the injured span hitching once before the next stroke steadied her.

The hatchlings launched into her wake, smaller bodies tossed wild by the violence of her ascent. Then, one by one, they tucked into her draft, clustered close behind her wings.

Skylash circled once over the lake, and heads lifted along the shore as her shadow swept across them.

Then she turned north with the hatchlings until only Veyrix remained.

“Skylash performs disdain best for an audience,” he said as the last sparks vanished into the haze. “Once the storm has no one left to impress, she will remember the hatchlings have short wings.”

Serenna shook her head. “Could’ve fooled me.”

Veyrix chuffed, the wind taking the shape of laughter before he lowered his snout to Vesryn. “Think on my offer.”

The prince’s expression surrendered nothing, but the bond carried the quiet, settled weight of a choice already made. “I will.”

Veyrix studied him a moment longer, the breeze combing through the pale frills along his spine. Then he turned and loped down the slope, wing talons skimming over the earth.

At the hill’s edge, his wings snapped open. A current gathered beneath him, grass bowing away in rippling rings as wind coiled under his body. Then it caught his weight and lifted him clear of the earth.