Soul of Ice (Chronicles of Dawn)

Chapter Twenty-Nine

There was fire in her chest, there had to be. Either that, or her lungs were nearing their end. And her legs—she was so fucking tired of running, but she couldn’t stop. Not until she made it out of there.

Her footsteps pounded along the pathway, tearing through the long stretch of gravel she’d recently turned onto. The tall walls of the hedge-maze blocked her view of just about everything, including the light from the moon. One thing she could be grateful for, though, was the new, fitted leather gear the Castmonts had prepared for her arrival two weeks ago. They were the perfect attire to run for one’s life in, apparently.

Surina gripped her dagger exactly how Ezra showed her before rounding the next turn, searching for any looming threats.

Breathe in .

A sigh of relief poured out the moment she realized she was alone in this section of the maze. Surina had gotten pretty familiar with the twists and corners of the hedges, maybe to a fault, because Kian’s first warning since training began was that it was dangerous to find too much comfort in one’s surroundings.

“I can hear your heart from miles away, princess.” A smooth warning swept past her ears, making her blood run cold.

Fuck . He was close. Really close.

Don’t panic.

She should have been putting more effort into silencing her movements, giving up her speed for stealth, but the moment Surina wheeled down the next corridor—the last stretch of the maze—a blooming hope unfurled.

At the end was a rocky archway, marking her escape. Her survival .

Booking it for the exit, she only dared to glance back when booted feet sounded behind her.

Trusting the rising hairs along her arm, she pivoted, swinging the blade around, only to swipe at nothing.

Now is probably a good time to panic , she surmised.

A hand knocked into her shoulder, forcing her off balance. As she fought to regain control of her stance, she instinctively sent a whip of frosted air into her surroundings, a muffled grunt the only indication that she’d hit something.

Getting her eyes to adjust to the night was out of the question, but where her vision failed, her ears picked up the slack, and she heard the slight shift of a body to her right. Surina tethered to the winds again, funneling an unrelenting column into her assailant.

Much like his cousin, Galen, Kian had recommended against using her affinities in close proximity, unless absolutely necessary, and even then, he said to only use it to create space—or an opening.

With the perpetrator tossed onto his back, Surina pounced, leaping onto his torso while bringing the full force of her dagger down for a final blow.

He caught her arm mid-strike, a trembling snarl reverberating under her body. Shoving his hips up in one impressive transition, he forced her over and onto her back. Jagged points of gravel dug through the leather as he leaned much of his weight into her. Having to grit through the abrasiveness of the earth, it distracted her long enough for him to knock the dagger from her grasp with a quick jerk.

It clattered against the ground, feet away from where he had her pinned. It was out of reach.

“I told you when I caught you, I would make you pay.” His voice was heated and fierce against her cheeks, and she couldn’t help but wonder if the lengthy curves of his fangs were out—actually, she didn’t really care to know that part.

A chuckle slipped past her lips, and that made him waver.

“Laugh it up, princess. It will be your last—” His words ended there, because pressed into the space between his shoulder blades was another dagger. One she’d conjured out of ice—with a jerk of her hand, he would be dead.

“Got you,” she returned with a haughty snicker. “The ruthless killer act was a nice touch though.”

His eyes widened in disbelief, glazing over with what she guessed would be amusement, if she could see better. “Well done, Suri. Only two weeks of training, and you’re already putting down immortals. I don’t know if I should be proud or afraid.”

The light flutter of Kian’s laughter reminded her of Blaine. They even shared the same strawberry-blond hair, except that Kian’s was kept shorter, trimmed and neat and out of the way. The male wasn’t anything like his brother, though. Kian was a lord—a gentlemen.

Using her will , she released the hold on the floating ice dagger, rotating her hips to reach for her steel one.

He beat her to it, stretching past her reach to pick it up himself. “One thing. Next time, if you go for the heart, you could angle it up and go underneath, like this.” Kian demonstrated the motions on her before bringing the hilt to her palm. “It leaves less of an opening to stop your strike. With your smaller frame, your opponent will almost always have a size advantage on you, and likely strength, too, depending on the fae’s age. Try and keep a little space, and don’t go for the big moves.”

“Like this?” To the best of her ability, she followed his demonstration, absorbing all the knowledge he had to offer after a century of guarding the border between Montrove and the creatures of the Wilds. He was an astounding warrior, just as every Castmont seemed to be. In fact, she thought he might even have a leg up on Galen, based on all she’d witnessed during training.

“Exactly like that. Very good.” She caught a glimmer of those glassy blue eyes, right before they flicked up.

The sound of a throat clearing had her head rolling against the gravel to squint into the night. Though she could barely see a damn thing, she knew who strolled in through the maze archway, his presence preceded by a frigid gust.

“Ezra,” she called through her smile, gesturing to where she lay against her back. “My very first kill.” A pretend one that Kian definitely let her have, but still, she was making progress. Surina wasn’t one to boast, but these sessions almost felt intuitive. Or maybe it was because she had a great instructor— two great instructors.

Kian shifted between her legs, climbing to his feet. “Your Majesty, you missed all the fun. This one is quite merciless.” He brushed off the residual ice crystals she’d conjured into her strikes before stretching a hand to Surina.

“She’s certainly a bloodthirsty little creature, isn’t she?” Ezra returned, already standing before her to extend his own hand, right beside Kian’s.

Taking the king’s, a rolling shiver trailed all the way down her spine, and when she stood, he pressed those arctic lips to the back of her hand. Now she was thankful for the dark, because the heated flush that enveloped much of her body likely turned her a new shade of red.

“I will take her back to the keep, Commander. In the meantime, you should return to your men. From what I’ve seen of your new recruits, they’re in far more need of instruction than the princess. More discipline might do your ranks some good.” There was a sharpness to the king’s request.

“Give them time, Your Majesty, you’ll find they serve their kingdom with just as much fire in their blood as any Castmont.” And with that, Kian nodded his head in a bow, alluding to his departure. “Remember to stretch, Suri. I’ll see you bright and early.”

“Thank you, Kian,” she replied softly, waiting for him to get out of earshot before opening her mouth again.

Shoving the dagger back into its place on the side of her thigh, she glared into the dark. “You don’t have to be rude, Ezra. He’s taking time away from his soldiers because I asked for his help. I thought you’d be happy that I’m getting real training.” From one of the best warriors Thesia had to offer—he might not have the title of general, but that was only because the position went to the eldest Castmont.

Bringing a hand to her cheek, Ezra grazed a knuckle down the line of her jaw. “I am happy, Surina, but if his brother is any indication of his intentions with you, I have every right to interfere.”

The soft chill of his touch shifted to a shocking surprise. “Blaine? How do you know anything about Blaine?” She didn’t think Ezra cared enough to pry into the lives of mortals, even the fae ones.

“When it comes to you, there is nothing I don’t make my business.” His words grew terse, like he was awaiting a challenge.

So he knew about Blaine, but to what extent? Did he know how often Blaine had visited her room at night? Based on the way he reacted to Fynn just trying to kiss her, she didn’t think that the male would have survived a day if Ezra knew.

Her mouth parted, but all that came out were strained starts to words that never completely formed.

“I also know you left one hell of a scar.” The corner of his lip kicked up. “Though that wasn’t enough, in my opinion.”

Blaine had basically torn her heart out, and sure, that was well over a year ago, but she remembered it like it was yesterday. They grew up together, Leirie, Blaine, and herself, and for him to betray her over something as trivial as a title... she sure as hell left a scar. If it wasn’t for Moira, he likely would have lost a finger or two. She wasn’t aware of any further consequences though. “What did you do?”

Even in the darkness, she couldn’t mistake the glittering smile that followed her question. “I have to give Cyril and Galen credit, their suggestion may have been far more tame than mine, but it was definitely more creative.” Tucking loose strands of hair behind her ear, he leaned in, until the tip of his nose brushed her own. “He’ll never see the Court of the Sun. At least, not from a lord’s point of view.”

Blaine… he wouldn’t be a lord. Which meant he would never own his own land—which meant his appeal as a suitor went way, way down. Served him right, for sneaking around with the daughter of a human lord just to get the girl’s father to vote him onto Cyril’s court.

Where Ezra’s court was purely of his own design, the Court of the Sun required the votes of several lords and ladies to allow admission. Now, Blaine would never get the chance.

“Is there any part of my life that the three of you haven’t dipped your grubby hands into?”

Ezra’s fingers trailed from her ear, all the way down her throat, which had mostly healed since her attack. Only faint discoloration remained. “He deserves worse, and you know it. It’s never too late for that, though. Just say the word and I’ll make it happen.”

She didn’t disagree with the first part, and really, the twisted sense of justice was strangely... hot.

Something she hadn’t realized before, was that once the adrenaline high of combat came to an end, the effects lingered in the form of warm arousal. Which is why her nights here were spent with Ezra, alone in his room. That was by far her favorite part of the day, even with his unwillingness to go further than what they’d done in the gardens.

Bringing a hand to his chest, she dragged a nail down, until it slid into the grooves of the abdominals beneath his blouse. “You’ll drive yourself mad plotting every male’s undoing just because they want something from me. Your dedication is commendable, though.”

“It’s purely selfish, I assure you. If I don’t give others the chance to prove they’re a better male than me, then there’s no contest, is there?” Ezra slid his fingers along her spine, not seeming to mind the sweat coating her back. “I have you, Surina Fairlight, and I aim to keep you.”

Leaning into the hard press of him, Surina angled her mouth so their lips barely brushed, and was met with the soft tickle of his exhale.

“And as much as I’d love to take you back to my room and strip every piece of leather from your body—” he breathed another sigh of displeasure before pulling away, “—I have news.”

“News?” she repeated dryly. Must be pretty gods-damn important.

He nodded, and though he moved his lips a safe distance from hers, his hand never left her back. “Good and bad.”

That immediately made her chest tight. With the male who ordered Surina’s death still on the loose in the palace, she had trouble sleeping, even with them being miles from home. And to think the killer was there, with her family and friends. “Was there another murder?”

“This is something else.”

She eyed what she could make out of his features in the dark. “What is it then?”

“The good news is I’m staying for a few more days, to make sure the defenses here are suitable for you to remain.”

That was good news, but the unsettling way he peered down at her, made her wonder if what came next was about to eclipse it all.

“The bad news is,” he began again, the arm draped around her waist tensing into a secure hold, as if someone could appear at any moment to take her away from him, “there have been sightings of a dragon nearby. A few miles north.”

“A dragon? So close to Castmont Keep?” There were probably as many ballista towers here as there were in New Sanctuary. Not to mention an entire garrison of soldiers and recruits.

“Normally our defenses are enough to dissuade any dragon.” A fury washed over the king that was noticeable in the way the rest of his body strained, and the fall in temperature of their surroundings.

“But…” she pressed, her fingers naturally curving around the scar of her palm when anyone ever mentioned a dragon.

“The reconnaissance units spotted a fire one, and while a fire dragon isn’t exactly rare , the scale pattern they described is. The scales were black.”

Like the dragon who attacked her—tortured her.

Her mouth suddenly felt a little too dry for words, and swallowing was like sandpaper against her throat. “Is it the same one?”

“There’s no way to know for certain.” Ezra reached to cup her face, but she pulled away.

The blood around her sun scar started to warm, and whether the heat was inspired by the terror of that night infiltrating her mind, or just its usual wavering temperature, it was followed by a spark of static along her flesh.

“What does it want?” she said, her voice cracking as those memories continued to flood in.

Ezra didn’t respond immediately, and that was almost answer enough, but she still needed to hear him say it.

“Is it looking for you?” Ezra killed the king of Lythia twenty years ago, and Surina happened to be the closest thing to revenge it could get its claws on at the time. “For me ?”

“I don’t know.” The response was too quick. Too defensive. He was leaving something out, she could tell.

Surina’s fingers found the cold metal of her dagger, hoping the feel of a weapon would bring her some kind of security, and it did a little, but it wasn’t enough. “Why else would it be here? There hasn’t been a dragon attack in Thesia since…”

Since her own, four years ago. After the accords failed, the dragons kept their distance—apart from the one who attacked her, that is. Maybe they thought it was an equal trade, a king for a king.

“We can talk more inside,” he whispered, an icy warning lacing those words.

He didn’t want anyone to know what he had to say, but what more was there to say? If the creature would risk coming back , it was looking for something worth its life. It would want to finish the job it failed years ago. And whether that was to kill Ezra or Surina really didn’t matter. Not if they were in the same place.

“We can talk about this now . I need to know if we’re safe here.” Where else could they go, though? The palace wasn’t safe either.

Between being hunted down by an infernal creature or being assassinated in her own home, she couldn’t really decide which one sounded more appealing.

That static, which felt like little webs of lightning initially, shifted into a cloud of pressure with the continued race of her heart. Streams of wind careened through—they were hers. A vicious rendition manifesting from her trepidation. They were wild, but the reach of her magic in response to yet another threat was worse, searching for any and all tethers she could claim—an excruciating need arose to possess them all.

Seeming to recognize exactly how this began last week, he clutched her arm to bring her closer, if only to ensure she could hear him through the winds. “Surina, you need to let go of the tethers. Now.”

The earth—or maybe it was the sky, she couldn’t be sure—rumbled as a trailing caveat to the air.

“I can’t.” A sharp inhale followed the frenzied intake of energy that flooded her body. It swarmed her flesh with a blanket of goosebumps.

This was worse than two weeks ago, with the tiny creature she brought to life. It had taken a while for her magic to build, and even then, she had the chilling phantom to guide her. Now it was like the elements were forcing themselves on her, and she didn’t know what to do with it all.

Ezra swiped the hair from her face, his motions soothing, but his voice… “ Surina ,” he begged with a panic she’d never heard before. “ Please . You need to cut the tethers.”

But she couldn’t shut it off any more than she could feel the friction of his skin on hers, the sensation of his flesh deadening with the rising numbness. Shadowy claws raked against her mind, reining her into a promise so resolute, she had no chance at coming out on top.

A gentle, pleading gust of air curled up her spine, swirling around her neck as a pulse started at her chest—but that stirring thing in her mind had since taken hold, swallowing what little she had left of control.

“It’s okay. Hey, look at me, Surina.” His hands flew up, cupping her face. She had to read his lips just to understand what he was saying, because every word sounded like she was underwater. “Just let it out. Please just let it out.”

Before, that chilling phantom had pushed her to force everything into the creature she made, but whatever this build up was, there was nothing to put it into, not with Ezra so close. She couldn’t risk it.

Her legs swept from beneath her in the same moment a strike of lightning touched ground behind him. He didn’t flinch, just wound an arm around her waist to keep her from collapsing.

Rock and wood cracked and split, though none of it reached them in the torrent that rushed past. Something warm trickled down her face then, and when she tasted copper, she knew it was her blood.

“I’m sorry,” she read in his lips, a solemn defeat crippling his features. His mouth widened to reveal the lengthened curve of his teeth. “I’m so sorry.”

Just as a shroud of darkness began to edge out her own consciousness, the shocking pierce at her throat put an end to the overwhelming tide.

She sucked in a ragged breath, the sudden spike of pain almost immediately mixing with the molten wash of his saliva. Her eyelids fluttered against the soft, purposeful drag of his lips, and those tethers snapped, releasing the weight of energy her body had been seconds from breaking under.

A gale of winds thrashed around them, but he held her in, taking every lashing. The earth shifted and churned, and all she could do was stare, wide-eyed into the night sky—or what was once the night sky, because now it was shrouded by murky clouds, littered with vibrant strands of lightning.

It was entrancing, reminding her of the beautiful fae in her dreams. The male who shone like starlight in the gloom.

As her pulse slowed with the receding streaks in the sky, the quiet lull of fresh saliva in her blood released the tense nature of her muscles, ridding her body of that consuming numbness. That’s when a flashing heat struck her palm, traveling along her arm in an agonizing reach of fire. If the fogginess of exhaustion hadn’t pulled her under then, she likely would have screamed.