The Cursed King (Inferno Rising), page 37
A small part of Angelika ached for this man. Power had consumed and distorted him to what he’d become. What he’d wrought. Power and a broken heart. Because she truly believed he had loved her mother, now that she could see beyond him.
“Don’t worry,” she whispered. “I will set it all right again.”
With that, she let the fire come, pouring over her skin, over every part of her. Those flaming wings extended behind her, and, with a single touch, the king was gone.
A swift death, more merciful than his actions deserved, but to her, this was the right way to end all of the violence and fighting that his reign had brought down on her people.
She closed her eyes and held on to her fire, picturing the world of her people as the magic of those visions showed her how it had been to start.
The power inside her built and built and built, thrumming through her.
With a cry, she flung her arms out, and the light that burst from her was so radiant her sight was blinded. But she didn’t stop.
Every dragon, not just here, but those all over the world, including dragon mates as yet undiscovered, became a precious glow to her. As though she could see them all, touch them all.
Heal them all.
Her body started to shake with the enormity of what she was trying to do, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes.
It was too much.
Arms came around her—softly, though, a hand cradling her head. “I am here,” Airk whispered through the light.
The shaking eased as she drew on her mate’s strength, still searching, seeking and finding every soul she needed to touch. Her brothers-by-blood, her sisters, and Airk were the last she reached for.
“For us all,” she whispered. Knowing they would all hear her.
Then her power burst from her in a single, sharp wave, and darkness consumed her vision, the sound of Airk’s voice calling her name growing fainter with each passing moment as she disappeared once again into oblivion and fire.
…
Airk found himself holding his dying mate in his arms, surrounded in her fire but not burning with it, because he was hers now, as she was his.
Angelika had given everything. Like everyone else, he’d seen it all. Everything she had to fix…ages of betrayals, to fix consequences, to save their people.
But this time, despair didn’t consume him, didn’t drag him down into the pits of the seven hells. He was her mate, the binding so strong that he could still feel her, even in this form. The funny, indestructible, glorious soul he’d been blessed to walk beside in this life.
She wasn’t dead…because he wasn’t. His body wasn’t turning the same ashy gray as hers. The fire wasn’t touching his flesh.
A shadow fell over him, and Airk lifted his head to stare at the three women who dropped to their knees beside their sister.
Kasia. Skylar. Meira.
Tears poured down their cheeks, shock turning their skin pale, and a hopelessness rounding their shoulders that Airk couldn’t understand.
“She’s not gone,” he said softly.
All three jerked their gazes to him, confusion darkening frosty eyes to a darker blue.
“What?” Meira’s question trembled on her lips.
“You can fix this.” He didn’t know how he knew, but he did.
Maybe witnessing how a phoenix could pass on her powers to her child and yet still live was how he knew. He’d been there the day the red queen had passed her powers on to her own daughter, Serefina.
Realization lit Kasia and Skylar up with hope almost as radiant as Angelika had been when she’d risen before. But Meira’s head dropped, her hand going to her belly, where a sleeping dragon prince lay.
Kasia wrapped her hand around Meira’s. “You saw your son take the throne,” she said. “He’ll be dragon, not phoenix, but he’ll live.”
“Do you see it?” Meira asked. “What we’ll become?”
Kasia shook her head, a sadness tempering the hope there. “But our grandmother lived. So will we.”
Skylar, on Meira’s other side, took her other hand. “And so will Angelika.”
Meira turned to look over her shoulder at Samael, and Airk couldn’t miss the way the King of the Black Clan swallowed. The pure fear in his eyes for his mate…and his unborn child. But he also didn’t hesitate, dropping to one knee behind Meira, he placed a kiss on her lips. Unspoken words passed between them.
Ladon closed his eyes for a second, then did the same with Skylar, who put her forehead to his. Brand dropped to both knees and wrapped an arm around Kasia’s waist. “I’ll follow you to the grave happily, mate.”
The three phoenixes didn’t hesitate. Didn’t wallow or take time to reconsider.
How they knew what to do, Airk had no idea. But each raised both her hands in the air and held them, palms together, fingertips spread, like a lotus flower, up to the skies.
Then, one at a time, they called forth their power—Kasia’s gold fire, Skylar’s blue fire, and Meira’s black fire. The flames flowed over their entire bodies at first but, as he watched, gathered and crawled softly upward, moving up to gather and coalesce in the palms of their outstretched hands, as though each was holding an orb of intense, dancing power.
But the more flame they gathered, the grayer their skin became, morphing from healthy flesh to something that resembled a stone carving. A marble statue ancient peoples would have worshiped.
The last part of them to change was their eyes, and all three, in unison, tipped their heads back on a silent, final inhalation.
Then the orbs of fire still held in their hands floated, one by one, down to Angelika’s body, now almost as gray as her sisters. Each orb absorbed into her unmoving heart, lighting up the organ through the layers of dying flesh and visibly absorbing into her blood, her veins turning a fiery orange.
Molten lava pulsed through her body in orange-red spurts. But nothing else happened.
Airk didn’t look away from his mate. Waiting.
The soft tread of a paw preceded a shadow crossing Angelika’s body, and Airk raised his head to find Jedd nosing at his mate’s arm.
An image flashed in Airk’s mind: an image of a shared laugh between the wolf shifter and Angelika, a moment of pure friendship. Then the tiny hellhound lifted its head to the skies and opened its mouth in a silent howl. Instead of sound, a similar orb of fire rose from the pit of his maw. Like with her sisters, the orb moved to hover over Angelika’s body before sinking into her flesh and absorbing.
With a wobble, Jedd fell to his side, the red glow of his eyes dimming, then dying out entirely, leaving holes of black nothingness.
Lining up behind them, each of the other hellhounds did the same one by one. First Brand’s father, who chose to share the image of Brand’s first shift with his son, the pride of that moment palpable even now. Brand swallowed convulsively. “Take care of our family in the afterlife until we can join you,” the gold king whispered.
Then Brand’s father was gone, sending his fire into Angelika.
Then Airk’s own father was there, moving to stand before him. Only instead of one image, a multitude flashed through his mind. Not their time together, but images of Airk after his parents’ death. From afar, as though seen through the veil of death. Airk surviving in the dungeons, growing into a man, learning despite the hopelessness of his situation. His escape and the moments that had led him here.
His father, his mighty father, bowed before him. Then, before he could have just one more moment with his parent, the hellhound sent his fire following Jedd’s and Brand’s father’s into Angelika, before falling dead at Airk’s feet.
Only this time…this death…held peace. Not horror. Not fear. Not sorrow. Just peace.
The last hellhound, the incarnation of King Hanyu, finally stepped forward, and he stared long and hard at the figures of his four granddaughters. Then an image appeared in Airk’s mind—all minds—as perfect as the day it happened.
The day their mother, Serefina, was born.
The joy, the sheer delight of a father, and now that of a proud grandfather who had been avenged, radiant in the moment.
Please let her be able to see this, he begged the gods. To know this moment.
Then the final hellhound gave himself over to her.
Once that last piece absorbed into her, Angelika jolted, and her heart lit up, the flash so bright Airk had to close his eyes. Only to open them and watch in utter awe as her heart pumped once. Twice. Then, as the glow of fire faded, it picked up a steady rhythm.
But none of the sisters moved.
Airk leaned forward and whispered in Angelika’s ear. “Open your eyes.”
And she did.
The gray ash coating her cracked with the motion and fell away to reveal healthy flesh beneath. She stared at him with new eyes. Eyes a kaleidoscope of colors, as though she was everything now. All things to her people, not just one clan.
She took in his face, then smiled, and more ash fell away as Airk’s heart soared to the very heavens.
“Thank the gods,” Brand breathed.
A swift glance showed Kasia, Skylar, and Meira all emerging from the ash that had coated them.
Except the sisters all turned to look at the hellhounds lying dead on the rock beside Angelika.
“I am sorry—” Airk started to whisper.
Angelika shook her head. “It’s okay. Look.”
All four death dogs were starting to glow. Airk hadn’t been there when Maul died, but he’d heard descriptions that sounded like this. Unlike Angelika, this was not a bright, heavenly light, but red, like the hounds’ eyes—eerie. Each of the bodies pulsed with the color that lifted from him like an aura before solidifying into streamers of flowing red, casting its light over everyone gathered near the hellhounds.
The streamers slipped and swirled and coalesced, forming not one image but four. Murky at first, then clearer, as each of the men who’d finally finished what had been needed of them in this life became more defined with every passing moment until they stood, hovering above the hellhounds’ corpses. They gazed down at the upturned faces of their kin and friends…and smiled.
“See?” Angelika whispered. “Everything is better now.”
As though they agreed with her, the figures, still smiling and gazes still trained on their loved ones, faded away.
With a rumble that shook them all, the ground from whence they’d sprung closed up, sealed tight.
A deeply contented sigh escaped Angelika, which seemed to be a signal to all of them. Each mated couple wrapped each other up in arms and lips and relief.
“My love…” Ladon’s voice held wonder, not concern. “Your eyes.”
Airk peered closer. Like Angelika, Skylar’s eyes had changed. So had Meira’s and Kasia’s, each now the colors of their mates—a deep gold, brilliant blue, and onyx black.
Meira put her hand to Samael’s cheek. “I’m a dragon now. We gave her everything.”
“Disappointed?” Kasia asked Brand.
The gold king snorted. “No. Now I get to call you lizard girl.”
Kasia groaned and rolled her eyes but also tightened her arms around Brand’s neck. With sharp breaths of joy, all four couples took a moment to simply hold each other.
“Umm…” Angelika murmured into Airk’s neck. “I’m not a dragon.”
Airk pulled back, unable to keep the smile from his face. “No. You are perfect.”
“Shit, brother,” Ladon muttered, though his tone remained laughing. “Don’t say things like that or all our mates will expect it.”
“I think I’d throw up if you said something like that to me,” Skylar quipped.
The sound of Angelika’s soft chuckle was sheer bliss.
They’d done it. They’d defeated Pytheios. They’d all survived it. Jubilation would come. He knew that. But for now…gratefulness was all he felt.
“I hate to interrupt this little…celebration.”
Airk raised his head to find Tovar, shifted and standing a respectful distance away.
His old friend raised a hand, indicating all the previously battling dragons and wolves watching in silence. “But you have some things to sort out.”
Epilogue
Angelika stared into the mirror at a woman who was her but not her.
The eyes in particular were taking some getting used to. But today she was more not her than ever. All gussied up in a dress that had taken way more discussion than a dress should take. Everyone—her sisters, the newly established council for the White Clan, all the other clans, the designer—had an opinion.
Dressing by committee sucked.
Worth it this time, she tried to tell herself. Because this was Airk’s coronation day.
It had taken months…months…of dealing with details and the fallout of everything that had led to Pytheios’s death. Months of healing, but also decisions and new laws and reaching out to those who’d been discarded or left behind by the previous rulers. Months to take Pytheios’s stash of wealth, combine it with all the clans’, and redistribute equally, starting fresh. Months to start on the dreams her own father had held when he’d been prepared to become High King—for the clans to live in equality, the colonies to govern themselves, and to dissolve the mating council, giving mates the time and resources to find their mates themselves.
They’d allowed the clans to go back to their own mountains and select their leaders anew. Even the Gold, Black, and Blue Clans had done so. In the end, Brand, Ladon, and Samael had all kept their thrones, Brand doing so perhaps the biggest surprise.
Though perhaps not, after what Angelika had shown her people that day combined with the appearance of his own father at the end.
The Red Clan had chosen no one of royal blood, not entirely trusting anyone Pytheios had allowed to live who could be a political threat to his throne. Instead, taking a leaf from the Black Clan, they’d chosen a warrior with not a drop of highborn in him. The Green Clan had chosen to execute King Fraener, the only king to remain by Pytheios’s side throughout the war. In his place they’d selected a female-born named Meilin, the first queen dragons had seen in millennia.
That had been a shock.
However, the reports that whatever Angelika had done that day had touched female dragons, allowing them to mate, allowing them to bear children, had come hard and fast these past months. There were even a few reports that had started months or even years before her rising from the ashes. Almost as though the promise of her coming power had started to change things even when it lay dormant inside her and split between her sisters.
Moreover, human mates had also changed, no longer showing a sign on their neck unless their specific mate’s fire was used to bring it forth. No more need for second-guessing or for a mating council that could be manipulated or corrupted.
Hearts, too, had been changed that day.
Not all hearts, though.
Some of her people didn’t believe or refused to let go of old ways, but many fewer than Angelika would have thought possible. There was still more to do. New systems would always have kinks to iron out. They weren’t perfect by any means. Or completely safe. After all, dragon shifters were as volatile as their fire.
But they had peace. They would build from there.
This dress, however…
Angelika sighed and plucked at the skirt, making a face at herself in the mirror. They’d decided that as the mate of the man about to be crowned King of the White Clan, she should wear white. However, as the phoenix, they wanted her to represent the other clans as well. Which had been a tricky prospect, with many of the considered gowns making her look more like a clown car exploded on a white canvas.
But they’d finally settled on this design.
The dress was a figure-hugging, white satin slip with delicate, detailed lace overlayed. Wide straps of lace over her shoulders turned into a sheer backing down to her waist. The skirt flared out from mid-thigh in layers and layers of the same lace, reminding her a bit of traditional flamenco dancers. The bottom of the skirt had been dyed in vibrant hues blending up from black at the bottom, representing all the other clans, but in a gradient that looked remarkably like flame.
The dress was absolutely gorgeous. That wasn’t the problem.
The problem was her in it. Fancy was not her way. They’d curled and styled her hair down with the sides drawn back and done her makeup to lovely effect. The woman staring at her was beautiful in a way she’d never seen herself. Her sisters had always all had more color than she did. She’d seen herself as a pale version of them most of her life.
Especially when her powers had remained dormant.
But this creature looking back at her from the mirror was all color, all fire, all things. And she wasn’t sure she was up for that. As the phoenix—the only phoenix, now—she was all things to dragon shifters.
“My lady?” Jordy appeared in the reflection behind her.
“Is it time?”
He shook his head. “Not quite yet. The king has…disappeared.”
Disappeared. The small frown that tugged at her brows wasn’t worry so much as confusion. “What do you mean?”
“He said he had something he had to do before the coronation. That it was important.”
Angelika thought for a moment of his behavior leading up to this day, and realization dawned with the softness of sunlight peaking over mountaintops. Just to be sure, she closed her eyes, feeling her way down that connection that mates had.
“It’s okay,” she told Jordy. “I know where he is. I’ll go get him.”
Airk’s faithful friend, now one of their closest advisors, smiled.
As soon as Jordy left the room, Angelika used the teleportation—both Kasia’s and Skylar’s combined inside her now—to go to the one place she should have known he’d need to see.
