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with her back feet, forcing him away in the air. He spun slightly, wings getting tangled in his own momentum.

Wings striking the air in thunderous claps, she rose above him and then tucked them firmly into her sides. Arrowing down at him, she pushed out a single thought.

“You thought you were the only one who could create thunder?” Sigrid hit him then, holding him against her chest with her wings. “You thought you were the only one who had lightning inside them? Jabbar, you are nothing more than a weak, frightened little man. I am thunder. I am lightning. I am death.”

They struck the ground hard. It should have killed them both, but Sigrid landed atop him and shoved hard with her back feet. Her own talons shredded his weak belly, and he stared up at her, gasping for air that had already fled his body.

His own feet tore at her wings and the leather gave way. It didn’t matter that he’d rendered her incapable of flight. She didn’t need to fly when there was so much of a feast laid out in front of her.

She lunged back just enough to give her room. Teeth flashing in the dim light of the battlefield, she snapped forward and took his throat between her teeth.

The ripping of flesh satisfied something deep inside her soul. Blood poured through her mouth in great spurts, crackling with electricity and so much power.

His wings flapped against the ground, talons scrabbling for purchase and then falling flat as the life faded from the last thunderbird alive.

Only when she smelled the death in his body did she step away. Her wings were awkward, one broken from his struggles. It didn’t matter then, but it did now.

She listed to the side, slowly changing back into a person. Sigrid held the broken arm against her chest and whirled to stare as the great beast turned back into Jabbar.

There was nothing left of the traitor but gristle.

Her stomach rolled. Had she really done that? Had she torn a man apart, because he’d tried to kill her? Of course, Sigrid had killed before. She had no quarrels about dueling with sword and battle. Men died every day, and she didn’t mind being the one to take that life.

But she’d never killed as a dragon. She’d never torn someone limb from limb and destroyed them entirely. No one would even be able to recognize him if they tried.

“Sigrid?” Nadir’s voice whispered in her mind. “You did what you had to do, and you were glorious.”

Was she? Or had she simply become everything she’d always feared she would become?

Sigrid looked around the battlefield at the frightened expressions on the faces of every man and woman surrounding them. They weren’t just afraid of her now. It wasn’t fear born of something they didn’t understand. Now they knew what the dragons were capable of. They had seen the battle above them, had seen the way a beast could devour flesh and tear life away from the bones of a man they all recognized.

She’d made them afraid, and she’d shown them what monsters could really do.

Swallowing hard, she straightened her shoulders and turned to them. “Go home,” she shouted, her voice carrying on the wind. “Be with your families and tuck your children into bed. You’ve destroyed enough this day.”

“Why should we?” A voice shouted. “Who are you to tell us where to go and what to do?”

Nadir reared onto his back legs behind her, straightened his wings, and roared. The guttural cry of a dragon rocked through Wildewyn, flattening trees and sending soldiers onto their knees in fear.

When the echo of his rage died down, Sigrid stood beside him and sadly cast her glance over all the people who would never understand them.

“See before you the Gods of the Empire,” she replied. “The dawn comes and brings with it nothing more than cobalt shadows. Go home. Feel no fear in your heart, for you know what gods protect you now.”

She’d never wanted to say those words, and yet, she had.

Nadir lifted into the air and grasped her with his back foot. Her broken arm crunched under his hold, but it was the safest way to carry her from the battlefield.

She held onto the scales of his foot, feeling the talons dig into her sensitive skin, and watched as her homeland disappeared beneath them.

32

Nadir

He hovered above the mountaintop, holding them carefully above the cliff edge where they could watch the sunrise. They’d flown all night. He’d watched the moon rise on the horizon and felt her shivers against his palm, but knew he couldn’t stop even to warm her up. Not yet. Not when the entire empire was hunting them and people were going to try their hardest to ensure their end.

Carefully, oh so carefully, he let her slide out of his palm and onto the stone surface of the outcropping. As always, Sigrid landed gracefully.

She was still clutching her arm to her chest. He’d offered to heat her up, to allow her to change so that she might be able to heal the wound with dragon fire.

She’d refused. He’d never forget the sadness in her voice as she insisted on feeling the pain for at least a little while. She deserved it, or so she claimed. After all they had done to the people of this empire, she could be a little uncomfortable for a while.

Nadir didn’t like seeing her in pain. It filtered through their connection, just enough that it was already bothering him. The dragon part of his mind wanted to end her suffering immediately. The feelings were distracting enough that he could hardly think straight.

Hovering above her, he opened his jaws and cast a blanket of flames down upon her person. She no longer wore the clothing the ancients gave her, they’d burned away long ago, and he watched in fascination as her bones realigned themselves beneath the flames.

Almost immediately, the ache of her pain disappeared. She let out a sigh

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