ine

d out just enough to look over the bowed heads

gold dragonfire thread, his heavy boots ringing against the floor. Through the collar of his coat, a pure gold dragon core pulsed over his

crushing weight of his pure-blood aura, dragging up memo

orner clinging to the arm of a tall man. His oily voice s

Preston-Brecken Humphrey-the vassal half-blood knight from the recording stone

s his face as his eyes dragged s

o spin, and a high-pitched ringing drowned out

my skirt, and bolted blindly through a smal

o the unlit courtyard. My boot caught on a mossy sto

my nose, freezing me in place. Grant had clearly slipped out of the hall before the toa

like an iron shackle, hauling me up

traight into my chest. A violent tremor shook me down to my bones. I gasped and looked up, c

es-this was the Fated Flame, the one-sided recognition where a Dragon-born's soul locked onto a Dragonless mate. And yet the Fated Flame was not the on

n core beneath his uniform flared with blinding

ep in his chest, and he spoke a single

rm to break free, but his grip tightene

y jaw to the side of my neck, inhaling my scent in deep, ragged breaths. Inside him, I could feel the te

d a group of laughing nobles s

aced by icy disgust. He flung my wrist away as if I

out here?" His voice

the racing pulse in my throat. "It is

sion. "The First Dragon must have lost his min

e water dumped over my head, killi

ght into his golden eyes. "Rest a

ttnie's sweet voice c