Rising From Ashes: The Dragonless Wife's Revenge

Kaitlin Ratcliff POV:

Heavy military boots echoed in the hallway outside. Seconds later, a thick, suffocating scent of scorched earth seeped under the door. My stomach lurched violently. That foul half-blood dragon scent belonged to Dashawn Whitaker, my husband.

Bang!

The heavy oak door flew open, crashing against the stone wall as harsh light from the corridor spilled into the room.

Dashawn strode in wearing his crimson Dragon Knight Commander cloak, his broad frame blocking the doorway. Half a step behind him cowered a woman in a plain, unpatterned white dress-Beryl Camacho. The woman who had once saved his life at the border.She kept both hands pressed protectively over her flat stomach.

Dashawn frowned and looked down at me like I was dirt beneath his boots.

"Kaitlin, Beryl saved my life on the Blackflame border," Dashawn barked, his voice brooking no argument. "She is carrying my pure dragon heir now. She will stay in the main keep to recover."

Beryl let out a weak, delicate cough and shrank further behind Dashawn's wide shoulder, though her green eyes flashed with smug triumph when she looked at me.

I simply sat in the shadows and tossed the silver candle scissors in my hand onto the wooden table.

Clatter.

The sharp metallic sound made Dashawn pause. In Dragonreach Kingdom, those born without a dragon soul or inner fire were called the Dragonless-cold-blooded bottom-feeders. As the foster daughter of a southern merchant and a Dragonless woman, I used to tremble and fawn whenever he released his scent. My sudden silence clearly irritated him.

"A lifesaver?" I asked, my voice colder than the winter wind outside. "Have you forgotten, Commander, that the dragon-scale armor on your back was bought with solid gold from my Southern Merchant Guild?"

Dashawn's face darkened instantly. Faint red scales surfaced along his neck in anger as he took a menacing step forward.

"You are a cold-blooded Dragonless woman, yet you dare threaten me?" he roared.

"A threat? This is what a real threat looks like." I sneered, pulling a white jade bottle from a hidden compartment in the table. When I pulled the stopper, a bitter, freezing scent filled the room.

Dashawn's pupils shrank. He instinctively took half a step back. Every dragon-kin feared this smell-it was Dragonbane-laced wine, a deadly poison that extinguished half-blood dragonfire.

"If you insist on keeping her in this keep, the Southern Merchant Guild will cut off all pig iron and warhorse supplies to your army tomorrow," I said, pouring the green liquid into a goblet and pushing it to the edge of the table. "Or you can drink this right now, Commander, and prove how deep your love for her really is."

Dashawn stared at the poisoned wine, his knuckles cracking as he clenched his fists. Without my family's gold, his title as Dragon Knight Commander was an empty shell.

Beryl's face turned pale. She clearly had not expected a meek Dragonless wife to threaten a royal general with poison and bankruptcy.

For ten full seconds, nobody breathed. Finally, the red scales on Dashawn's neck faded. His jaw twitched as he swallowed his rage.

"Do not push me too far, Kaitlin!" he spat, no longer daring to mention moving Beryl into the main building.

He spun around, roughly grabbed Beryl's arm while she was still pretending to be weak, and dragged her out of the bedroom. Outside in the hall, the household servants stared at each other with wide eyes, shocked that a proud dragon-born general had backed down before a Dragonless woman.

Watching them flee, I picked up the goblet and tilted my wrist, pouring the poisoned wine onto the plush rug.

Hiss.

White smoke rose as the liquid burned a black hole straight through the wool.

On the vanity sat a bronze mirror inlaid with low-grade red dragon crystals. Reflected in the glass was my own face-twenty years old, pale, and completely free of the dragonfire scars that had ruined me before I died. I had come back.

Phantom pain tore through my chest. I could still feel the heavy Dragonslayer Gold arrows pinning me to the mud, ripping through my lungs while my husband watched from the fortress walls.

Last life, I had screamed and wept at this betrayal, unaware that Beryl was a Blackflame Kingdom spy carrying a rotting stillborn fetus. This time,I just want to watch them dig their own graves.

I reached up to touch the hairline at the back of my neck, where a faint golden scale birthmark lay hidden. Walking to the window, I pushed open the heavy carved shutters to let the freezing wind clear out Dashawn's nauseating scent. Beryl would not give up on her spy mission, and my greedy mother-in-law Karen and vicious stepsister Chelsie were waiting in the wings.

Suddenly, the sound of shattering porcelain came from the end of the hallway, followed by my husband's sister Addisyn's sharp cursing.