“You believe me so easily? I’m a stranger to you! You were at our gates and demanding the one source of power we had left to protect ourselves from things like you. Our last heartstone. I would have said anything to make you leave.”

“Ah, but you said the wrong thing, Klara of Rath Serok and Rath Drokka,” he said. “And now you’re here. Under my control. I know you weren’t lying.”

“How?”

“Because of that scar on your face,” he replied simply, gesturing toward it, eyes fastening on it.

“And what would that prove?” I asked quietly, my heart leaping in my chest. Even though the burn of despair and disappointment nearly seared me from the inside out, there were other reasons why I’d agreed to come with him. For answers. Finally.

I merely thought it ironic that he was intending to use me for heartstones…just like the priestesses had wanted, just what my mother had tried so hard to shield me from for the entirety of my life.

“It proves that you possess Elthikan power,” he told me. “It proves that you can cross realities in dreams, an ability the Karag have long had.”

“If that’s true, then you don’t need me,” I pointed out. He wasn’t telling me something. “One of your own could find the forest.”

He glanced down briefly at the glowing stone between us.

“Elthikan power is unpredictable. It manifests in different ways,” he replied simply. “It’s been a long time since we’ve heard of one with your ability. And I am not foolish enough to ignore a gift that has landed right at my feet.”

“So you took me,” I finished. “To use my ability to find you more heartstones.”

“Precisely.”

“Then why threaten to make me your wife? That’s entirely unnecessary.”

“Threaten?” he repeated. Sarkin’s brow dropped, his expression amused yet foreboding. “You don’t know the Karag at all. But you will.”

The warning in his voice nearly made me shiver.

“Get some sleep,” he ordered, gesturing to the fur roll as he stood, just as I heard a rumble of thunder in the distance. “Let’s see what you dream of tonight, wife.”

“Where will you sleep?” I asked. Even I could hear the trepidation in my voice.

“Worried?” he asked, the question sounding clipped.

“I don’t trust you.”

He smirked. “Good,” he said. “But luckily for your sake, you’re one of the last things I’d want to fuck right now.”

My spine stiffened, a harsh exhale escaping me at the crassness and ugliness of the words. No one had ever spoken to me like that. It was like getting dumped over the head with a bucket of ice water.

“Get some sleep while you can, princess. We leave as soon as the storm ends,” he said, snatching up the empty water skin next to me. I watched as he prowled off into the darkness of the forest, no doubt to search for a water source.

He really had no fear that I would try to leave.

And unfortunately, I thought as I slid into the fur roll, wincing at my aching muscles and the burning between my thighs, I’m in no position to even try.

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Chapter 9KLARA

I hadn’t quite known what to expect when I’d heard Sarkin mention “the citadel.” But we’d been up before dawn, the storm breaking in the night. And just as the sunrise peeked out over the horizon, we flew over a deep mountain valley, a twinkling river winding its way at the very base.

At the very end of the valley was a tall, jagged mountain though I could see decorative markings etched into its face even from a great distance. Reliefs carved into the rock of Elthika, their tails curving around the mountain like an embrace.

Below that mountain, spread out among rolling hills that rippled out toward flat land was a city. A towering stronghold made of gray stone overlooked it all.

That was the citadel, I figured, my eyes widening at the sight. Momentarily, I forgot my fear, riding on Zaridan’s back when I could feel every muscle of my own body ache in protest. Momentarily, I forgot my pain and the fact that my legs felt like needles were pricking into my flesh over and over again.

I was awestruck. In the rising sun, it was beautiful, the land lush and vibrant, so unlike the wildlands of my own homeland. The river of the valley—which cleaved the city into two—led to a wide lake in the distance, and even there, I saw structures dotting close to the shore. It was a sprawling, expansive city…and Sarkin was its king?

“You call this a horde?” I asked. “It’s larger than Dothik.”

I didn’t think Sarkin would be able to hear me over the rush of wind.

But he responded, “Sarroth. The stronghold of the South Lands.”

“A stronghold against what?” I couldn’t help but question.

He didn’t answer me.

Instead, I heard a dragon’s roar. No, not quite a roar. A call. The gust of wings funneled toward us, and I saw three Elthika flying overhead in formation. Beneath me, Zaridan responded. I could actually feel the way her lungs expanded before she mimicked the sound, bright and trilling into the sky, so unlike the deadly and powerful roar she’d unleashed in Dothik.

This was power, I realized. Not to control a creature that could decimate an entire civilization. But to ride with one. To bond with one. To feel that power and trust they wouldn’t use it against you.

Was that how the Karag felt? Dannik’s words returned to me, how he’d said they’d had no fear. This was why. What was it like? To feel so certain in your safety, knowing that no danger could ever compare?

Beyond the mountain, I could see Elthika flying. I watched as one latched into the side of the rock face, disappearing into a hidden entrance. My lips parted. Their home?

As we neared Sarroth and began to fly lower, heading straight for the citadel, I heard horns sound from below. Perhaps to herald Sarkin’s return? Squinting over Zaridan’s side, I ignored the great distance to the ground, ignored the way it made me feel dizzy, because I wanted to see it all. I needed to.

Karag milled around throughout the city, even this early. The horns were placed at regular intervals along what I assumed was the main road, set up on small platforms, and I wondered if this was their only purpose.

The city likely held a smaller population than Dothik, but it was certainly larger in size. It was widespread to accommodate the Elthika, I realized, eyeing a dragon casually perched on a wide ledge that overlooked crop land on the outskirts.

The structures and homes were grouped together, like they made up smaller villages within the larger city, all connected to a wide, winding road. Like the Spine in Dothik. The road crossed the river at the bridge before spiraling up the hills on the other side, dotted with smaller structures, smoke rising from a few. Nearest the citadel, the structures were more tightly packed, even multiple stories high. I thought I spied spaces for markets, training grounds, and shops along a paved road.

I’ve seen this before, I realized, jolting.

The citadel itself was separated from the main city by a steep, winding incline. It was nearest the mountain, the back section abutted against it. It was smaller than the Dothikkar’s palace in Dothik and much less opulent, but I had the sense the citadel had been standing for much, much longer. There was longevity in the lines of its structure, made up of solid columns and gray stone. There was a timelessness to it.

As we got closer, I saw the stone of the citadel’s facade also had etchings of Elthika, like the mountain above it. A history, perhaps, one I was itching to inspect and study.

What surprised me the most were the sprawling gardens at the back of the citadel, however. Zaridan flew over the stone keep and circled around, beginning her descent to land. It was a massive area, meant to accommodate multiple dragons, I thought, judging by the empty stone slab that led off the citadel’s back gates. There was even a private training ground nearest the mountain.