The Shadow Queen (Ravenspire, #1)(43)
Before she could reply, a strange sound shook the forest—a steady thump-thump that reverberated from the air above and caused the trees to shiver. A shadow blocked the sun, and Lorelai looked up to see Irina’s red and gold dragon—longer than a horse-drawn carriage and twice as tall—fly over the top of the hill and plunge straight toward her.
SEVENTEEN
“DOWN!” LORELAI SHOVED Gabril to the right and took off running in the opposite direction. “Chase me. Come on, chase me,” she whispered as she dove between two thick-trunked pines and sprinted down the hill. Her heart thundered in her ears and a vise squeezed her chest as visions of Gabril being consumed by dragon’s fire or crushed between the creature’s monstrous jaws filled her mind.
Branches exploded into the air, and a tree crashed to the ground and tumbled past her to disintegrate into chunks of debris at the bottom of the hill.
She risked a glance over her shoulder as she tossed her travel pack to the ground and leaped between another pair of trees.
The dragon had flown past Gabril, who was struggling to his feet, his face a mask of terrified fury. The beast was heading straight for her, its enormous wings shattering treetops as it came.
“Run, Lorelai!” Gabril yelled.
She was running—flat out sprinting faster than she’d ever gone—and the dragon was closing the gap between them like it was nothing.
Hurtling over a boulder, she dove beneath a low branch and whipped toward the left as the crackle of dragon’s fire exploded into the tree behind her and sent it plunging for the bottom on the hill.
She couldn’t outrun a dragon. Couldn’t climb trees and leap through the forest when the dragon could just light her on fire the second she was in range.
There was only one way out of this, and the power was already flooding her veins.
She skidded down the rest of the hill, her pulse beating a frantic tempo against her skin as the dragon roared and fire strafed the ground behind her. The heat licked at her skin, and she rolled forward, coming to her feet at the bottom of the hill where she was surrounded by smoking chunks of the trees the dragon had destroyed.
She wasn’t going to die here—incinerated by Irina’s pet dragon while the queen stayed safe and sound in her castle, content in the knowledge that she’d destroyed the last of the Diederichs.
Kill overgrown lizard. Eat the eyes, tear out the heart. Sasha’s thoughts, vibrating with rage, broke past the thunder of Lorelai’s heartbeat and sent a shaft of panic down the princess’s spine as the gyrfalcon, returning from her morning hunt, streaked through the air, heading straight for the dragon.
No! Lorelai tore off her gloves as the dragon reached the bottom of the hill, the wind from its wings slamming into Lorelai until it was hard to keep her footing. Don’t attack. Don’t come closer. He’ll kill you.
Kill it first. Sasha shrieked and dove for the dragon.
No! Lorelai screamed, but Sasha ignored her.
Her bird was going to die, and then she was going to die unless she changed her odds. Lorelai locked eyes with the dragon, magic burning like lightning in her palms, and sprinted straight for the beast.
The dragon’s eyes became slits as Sasha slammed into its head, and it shook her off as easily as a horse dislodges a fly.
Smoke poured from the beast’s nostrils as Lorelai closed the distance between them, and it opened its mouth.
Fear tore at her, threatening to turn her thoughts into a whirlwind of panic, but she was acting on instinct now. She twisted to the side, kicked off the ground, slammed her feet against the closest tree trunk, and launched herself into the air. Arcing, she flipped and landed on the dragon’s back, just behind its head.
Sasha flew at the creature’s face, aiming for its eyes, and narrowly missed getting incinerated. Heat from the fire that poured out of the dragon’s mouth warmed the scales beneath Lorelai, and she grabbed its neck with her bare hands, her mind frantically scrambling for an incantor that would force the dragon’s heart to obey hers instead of Irina’s.
The dragon’s skin shuddered, a ripple that nearly dislodged Lorelai.
Sasha banked hard and shrieked as she came for the beast.
Something crashed behind Lorelai, and she glanced back to find two additional dragons smashing through the trees—a silver and black dragon that was slightly smaller than the one Lorelai clung to and an enormous all-black dragon whose wingspan was wider than a peasant’s cottage.
Sobbing a desperate prayer that she could somehow figure out how to defeat three dragons at once, Lorelai dug her fingers into the scales on the dragon’s neck, an incantor on the tip of her tongue.
Except she wasn’t gripping scales.
She was gripping skin that was rapidly softening into something human.
The dragon dropped to the ground, sending Lorelai tumbling. Its ridges and wings receded, and its bones made an awful grinding sound as its body shrank.
Sasha slammed into the dragon-turning-human and knocked him to his side. The silver dragon roared and lunged toward the bird, but then a boy with wild red-brown hair picked himself up off the ground and held up his hand, palm out.
The other dragons slowly settled onto the ground, their eyes watchful.
Sasha settled onto a branch and watched them as if waiting for one of them to make a wrong move.
The boy turned to face Lorelai, wearing nothing but a strange collar of thistle and bone. The breath left her body as the sun glinted against his wild hair. His amber eyes locked on hers, and the empty space carved into her by Leo’s death filled with fury as she stared at the Eldrian king she’d rescued from the mob in Tranke.