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an emotion Sigrid recognized all too well.

“Family is who we choose, not our blood.” And with that, Sigrid slowly took off the mask which had hidden Eivor’s face from so many. Likely since she was a child.

She barely held in the gasp, although she might have winced. Someone had ruined Eivor’s face with a butcher knife. There were still scales on it from where her beast had tried to stop the harm. Patches of fur and feathers added to the grotesque features the mask had covered.

“This is why they hide you,” she whispered. “Isn’t it?”

“Medicine women and men are not supposed to exist. We’re an abomination and a disgrace to our clan. So we are sent into the mountains to learn how to make ourselves useful to the tribe,” Eivor replied. “There is no shame in my features. Only a life that was created by myself and the animals inside me.”

“You don’t keep souls, do you?”

Eivor shook her head. “Not in the way people think. I learn how to change my shape, but it confuses my beast. Sometimes there’s more than one animal in people. Rarely. It happens though, and I have so many inside me I cannot even count.”

“They’re afraid of you because of how you look.”

“They’re afraid of what they don’t understand.” Eivor reached for her mask. “Please.”

“No,” Sigrid said, taking a step back and taking the mask with her. “You shouldn’t have to hide who you are.”

“I want to.”

Hadn’t Sigrid said the same words to herself? Hadn’t she tried to justify the mask she’d worn her entire life as something which was comfortable? Now she saw it was a crutch. It was a way to make herself feel more comfortable without other people staring at her.

Hesitantly, she held the mask out to Eivor. “I wore a mask my entire life as well. I can tell you there is nothing more terrifying than revealing your face to others. But there is nothing more freeing, either.”

Eivor held the mask in her hands, staring down at the wooden face with her mismatched features. Her eyes roamed over the worn pieces and painted colors. “I don’t take it off much,” she said. “Sometimes, even when I’m alone, I just leave it on. It’s easier that way.”

“Just because their culture is ancient doesn’t mean they are. Sometimes, the old ways need to be broken so that something else can grow in its place.”

Eivor gently set the mask down onto the altar in the center of the room. “That’s why I brought you here, you know. I wanted you to see that something else can happen. You don’t have to listen to Aslaug or the others. You don’t have to listen to anyone other than yourself.”

“I don’t know what my soul wants.”

“What about your heart?”

Warmth bloomed in Sigrid’s chest. It wasn’t her own heart or a belief in herself, but the dragon that lifted its head and saw something it wanted to protect. A dragoness who had seen a youngling that needed it.

She knew without a doubt that she would protect Eivor until the woman died. This creature was now part of her family, claimed as so few people had been claimed. It didn’t matter that she was ugly. It didn’t matter that she’d been forgotten by time itself. The medicine woman would stay with her until the kingdoms fell.

“My heart wants war,” she replied. “My heart wants to devour and destroy, and that is not something I can allow it.”

“Why not?” Eivor gestured to the dragon statues around them. “The age of dragons passed long ago. Who says they cannot wander the earth again? Whether by peace or war, we both know the time of dragons will come again.”

Deep in her chest, the dragon unfurled its wings, lifted its head, and roared.

17

Nadir

He shouldn’t feel so comfortable here, and yet, the hidden city of Falldell had quickly become a second home to him. The people here weren’t hiding behind the masks of royalty or nobility. They didn’t care who he was, what he was, or why he was there. All they cared about was that he would work and that he would work hard.

When was the last time he’d used his muscles like this? He couldn’t remember other than his childhood when he’d been training to take over the army from his uncle.

Hakim’s voice whispered in his mind, memories of when his older brother had laughed at him, pointing out muscles on his small frame that weren’t on the other boys.

“You were made to work, weren’t you, little brother?” Hakim had shouted one day when Nadir had returned from training. “Those muscles cannot lie. You’ll make the most impressive general yet.”

He’d ruffled Hakim’s hair and chuckled. “Not a sword will touch you while I’m alive, brother.”

A sword hadn’t touched his brother at all. Poison was the one thing that Nadir couldn’t protect Hakim from. No one could have thought a hair comb, a tiny knife, could have brought about so much pain and agony.

If he could have turned back the time of the world, he would have. He would have gone back to that moment when he was but a child and sliced the person’s hand from their arm. He would have destroyed them in the only way he knew.

Feed them to the dragon, destroy them with fire, and devour their bones until the anger inside him was finally sated. The beast inside him wanted to feast on the bones of thousands just because its brother was taken away from it. He’d been so lonely, for such a long time. All because someone had thought the royals of Bymere weren’t worthy of the lives they had.

Blowing out a breath, Nadir straightened from the home he was helping to rebuild. White clay stained his hands and streaked across his bare chest.

These people weren’t like the ones who had wanted to hurt him. Of that, he was certain. They didn’t care that he was the Sultan of Bymere. In fact, most of them

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