My hand tightened on the strap of my brown leather satchel. “It’s my clothing.”

Sarkin made a sound in the back of his throat. “It stays. Let’s go.”

Dannik stepped forward and Sarkin’s eyes cut to him. The icy chill in them had me reaching out to squeeze my brother’s wrist, a warning in my own gaze when he looked over at me.

Sarkin looked behind me, directly at my father, assessing the distance he’d put between them. I could almost hear his thoughts. He didn’t think highly of the Dothikkar.

“At least you, heir, can look me in the eyes,” Sarkin said, voice rising as he looked at my brother. “Tell your father we will be in contact soon.”

“What is it that you’ll be in contact about?” Dannik growled.

“Our terms” was all Sarkin said, and I could feel my brother’s frustration.

“Fuck your terms. If you hurt her,” Dannik said, his voice so quiet and deadly that even Sarkin stilled to regard him, “I won’t care that you have your dragons at your back. I won’t stop until I find you, Sarkin Dirak’zar.”

The slow spread of Sarkin’s grin made me hold my breath. I felt my brother’s temper snap. Zaridan’s wings gusted again, and I wondered if she could feel the palpable tension in the small clearing.

“Enough,” I said quietly, stepping forward in front of my brother before a brawl began. Sarkin’s eyes fastened on my own when I looked up at him. “I’m ready. Let’s go.”

Did I catch a hint of surprise? I couldn’t be certain as nerves began to rush, making my limbs shaky at the realization of what I was about to do. I hadn’t cried once since last night, and I refused to now…but all I wanted was to curl into a little ball on the wildlands and sob. I was leaving my home, where I’d been with my mother, where she was buried. Leaving Dannik, the city, the archives, Sora—who I wouldn’t get to say goodbye to, all my research, the comfort of my routine. My quiet morning walks along the Spine. My dusky evenings sneaking out on the wildlands.

Sarkin took my chin in his grip, turning my cheek to peer down at my scar. I swallowed loudly, discomfort swirling. I’d pinned back my hair this morning, leaving my scar on full display. And there was a reckless part of me that wanted everyone to see it. I’d hidden it away behind the curtain of my hair for years because it made others uncomfortable.

Now? I wanted my father to see it, who’d once loved my mother but couldn’t stand to look at me. My stepmother, who’d only ever hated me because I threatened everything she’d built. The Laseta Kalliri, the high priestess, who I assumed had always known about my abilities and had just been waiting for her own perfect moment to take me away to the North Lands. Now I had a strong suspicion Dannik had helped protect me from her grasp.

Sarkin’s thumb brushed the bottom edge of it, the marking that Zaridan had left on me. He recognized it. And I wasn’t a fool—I knew it had something to do with my being taken away.

The mark throbbed under his touch, making me flinch.

His lips pressed, and for a moment, he looked furious. He grabbed my waist, pushing me toward Zaridan, and I nearly stumbled into her. Standing next to her front clawed legs, as thick as tree trunks in the Ancient Grove, I craned my head to look at the dragon, my mouth bone dry in my fear and awe.

She huffed out a hot breath as I looked into her slitted eyes of gold. Zaridan moved, lowering her left wing, and I watched Sarkin ascend it before seating himself in the worn mount with the silver catches.

Looking back at Dannik, I tried to give him a small smile, but I feared it came out as a grimace.

“Strength,” he reminded me, the soft word meant for me drifting over the distance between us.

I inclined my head, my gaze catching on the trunk at his feet. Another part of me I’d leave behind, clothes I’d lived in every day for years. It felt…wrong. Every part of me was being stripped away, bit by bit.

“Ascend,” Sarkin bit out, voice cold and cutting. “We need to leave. Now.”

As if I were outside of my body, I felt myself move. Zaridan’s wing was surprisingly steady, like unyielding earth, beneath my feet, a testament to her strength. The climb was steep, my footing uncertain, the weight of my satchel at my back throwing me off balance.

I heard Sarkin’s sharp, impatient exhale when I nearly stumbled, catching words under his breath that I didn’t understand.

Zaridan breathed deeply, lifting her wing, and I cried out, landing hard on the mount, right into Sarkin’s side, my satchel nearing falling off my shoulder. My face was burning with fear and mortification, knowing my family had witnessed the pitiful scene. I wasn’t used to being so on display, but I could feel dozens of eyes directly on me.

“Sit behind me. Find your balance and hold my waist tight. If you fall, you’re dead. Remember that, princess,” Sarkin rasped. The mounting saddle was as hard as a boulder between my thighs, though I guessed it was marginally better than Zaridan’s scales. For a moment, he said nothing as my arms wound around his body, digging into his unyielding strength.

My breath was coming out in quick gasps and pants…and we weren’t even off the ground. Overhead, I heard the others flying.

“Learn quickly,” Sarkin said. His voice might’ve been quiet, but there was no mistaking the menace in it. “The Sarrothian will never accept you otherwise.”

Those words sounded like a promise.

With that, Sarkin’s hand tightened on two black tethers hooked into place.

“Thryn’ar.”

I felt Zaridan’s body respond to his command. She seemed to hum to life, vibrating in her unmistakable power. Heat rushed. I swore I could feel her heartbeat, and for a moment, my fear was replaced by awe.

I felt her launch from the ground. One moment we were stationary. The next, the air was hurtling around us and we climbed higher and higher at a steep, terrifying angle. My stomach dropped at the unfathomable speed, the pins in my hair whipping out immediately.

The wind was so loud that I couldn’t hear myself scream.

But then we leveled out. Already I was panting and could barely hear over my pounding heartbeat.

“You’ll leave your own scar on me with those claws,” Sarkin grumbled when the world quieted again. I was gripping him so tight I was surprised I hadn’t drawn his blood.

Yet I didn’t loosen my grip. I didn’t care if I hurt him.

When the other nine dragons fell into formation around us, with Zaridan in the lead, though flying lower than the rest, I couldn’t help but look behind me.

There was Dakkar. In all its expansive, wild beauty. In the rising sun, I’d never thought it looked more beautiful. The mountains, the plains, the river that ran toward the coast from Dothik…

Outside the East Gate, my brother was a mere speck on the earth, growing smaller and smaller by the moment.

And I knew then…this was how the Karag saw us. Mere specks. How could they not on the backs of their mighty dragons?

I swayed, going dizzy. I couldn’t wrap my mind around the height. I imaged myself falling. How long until I reached the ground?

“Turn forward,” Sarkin ordered me.

In front of us was Drukkar’s Sea, glittering and seemingly endless.

My future lay beyond it.

The moment we crossed the threshold of the continent’s coastline, flying past the jagged cliffs and rocky shores beyond Bekkar’s Shield…I couldn’t stop the tears that dripped from my cheeks, though the wind whipped them away mercilessly. I imagined them landing in the sea below us.

Though Sarkin had ordered me to turn forward, I disobeyed him.

My heart ached as I watched my homeland become a mere speck behind us too.

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Chapter 7SARKIN