Dragons Against Them (Kingdoms of Fire and Ice #2)(43)

Quinn stepped between them, his eyes still glowing a dull red and his voice a low hiss. “Enough.”

“Fine.” Addie lowered her fists, feigned calm until her brother did the same, then ducked around Quinn and sprang onto Tristan’s back, wrapping his neck in a choke hold. “Spoiled brat. I can’t believe you narked on my fiancé!”

“Get. Her. Off me!”

Large hands pried Addie from her brother and tossed her to the ground. She lay sprawled on her back, seething. When she rose and angled for Tristan a second time, Quinn stepped between them.

“If we are to rescue Zayne and Rosalind without being caught ourselves, you must stop behaving as enemies and work together.”

“Work together? Are you crazy? I don’t trust either of you farther than I can throw you.”

“We have no choice,” said Tristan. “There is a war coming, sister, whether we like it or not. If we cannot retrieve Rosalind before Father discovers we have all gone missing, he shall threaten to start a war with Edana unless they grant him access to the witches’ village. Once he does, innocent lives are sure to be lost.”

“And what makes you think we’ll be able to just waltz into the witches’ camp and convince them to hand Rosalind back over to us?”

Tristan turned a dark gaze to Quinn. “It seems we have more ties to the witches than previously believed.”

“Oh?” She looked from him to Blackstone. “So what, you have a long-lost cousin among their ranks or something?”

“Far better than that.” A smirk tugged at his lips. “My mother…is their queen.”

“Their queen?” A giggle bubbled inside her. “Your mother is the witch queen.” Another giggle. “Then that makes you and Zayne…” A full-blown fit of laughter dropped her to her knees.

Quinn glowered at her. “I fail to see the humor, Princess.”

She clamped both hands over her mouth, but after the stressful day and mental trauma she’d endured, hysterics had temporarily taken hold. Giggles loosened her tongue once more, and the word “cousins” escaped in a giddy release.

Quinn stormed off with a growl, leaving Tristan to collect her from the ground.

“Come on,” he said in a huff. “Your fiancé awaits.”



Zayne awoke to the sound of muffled voices. Frozen and aching from head to toe, he struggled to crack open an eye. Was it Jarin, back to torture him yet again?

Lest he appear a weakling before the mad tyrant, Zayne used what strength he could summon to push himself up into a seated position. Pain radiated throughout his body, blinding him momentarily and bringing a cry to his lips. He bit it back and released it in a string of broken gasps.

“Zayne?”

Adelaide. The vision of when last he saw her came to mind, warming his very soul. But the sound was merely an illusion created to mask the pain. Jarin would never allow her to leave the castle, let alone into this dark and dreary dungeon. Yet he heard her call for him again, the sound this time accompanied by footfalls in the distance.

He squinted into the darkness, trying to see beyond the veil of pain which blanketed him still. Were those lights bobbing in the distance? Zayne tried to speak, but his dry throat produced not a sound.

“This way, I think.”

Zayne swallowed and tried again. “Addie.”

Though feeble as it crossed his lips, his spoken word was not lost on her. Footfalls quickened, then a door across from him slammed open and his beloved nymph burst into the space.

“Zayne!”

In a blink, Adelaide was at his side, dropping to her knees as she set a lantern on the stone floor. With her near, his pain seemed to subside to an almost manageable level. He sat taller and reached for her, but the chains soon halted his progress.

“Oh, Zayne. Are you hurt? These lines across your chest… God, who did this to you?”

“Your father.” He hated how weak he sounded, how weak he must look to her. “He believes me a traitor.”

“So I’ve heard.”

Poison dripped from her voice as she threw a dark look behind her. But when her face turned back toward his, awash once more in the glow of her lantern, it displayed only concern. She cupped his face in her hands and pressed the gentlest of kisses along his brows. Across his cheeks. Onto his dry lips.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t believe it for a moment.”

Blackstone stepped from the shadows. “We may discuss his innocence later. At this moment, we need to free Prince Zayne and make our exit before the guards make their rounds. Are you able to walk, sire?”

Zayne grimaced. If sitting up had triggered such blinding pain, what might an attempt at standing and walking bring? To show additional weakness before Addie might wound his pride beyond repair. “I…”

“Come, sister. Allow Quinn to free him from his chains while we make sure the guards do not lie in wait outside.”

Addie stiffened beside him at Prince Tristan’s voice. “Not gonna happen, buddy. I’m never leaving Zayne’s side again. Thanks to you, he’s—” Her voice cracked, and a small sob escaped her.

It broke Zayne’s heart to hear such a sound. He offered her a weary smile. “Do as your brother asks, my lady. I shall join you shortly.”

“Zayne, I’m—”