Reckless Cruel Heirs - Olivia Wildenstein Page 0,141

becoming almost too wide and tall for the high-ceilinged apartment, and then black scales slicked over his skin like an oil spill.

Kiera took in her brother’s new form, from his long muzzle to his pointed horns, with a squeak of surprise. Chuffing, he extended his fibrous black wings and lowered his neck, an invitation for her to climb aboard. It took her a minute to react, but as soon as she understood, she hurled herself onto him like Cruz had hurled himself atop the tigri the first time we’d met. Tucking his clawed paws into his abdomen, Josh took off, flying so fast toward the window that when his horns hit the curved glass, the entire pane shattered.

Outside the calimbor, lightning slashed the Neverrian firmament, weakening the glow of stars. I imagined I was responsible for the weather, although it was entirely possible Kiera and her dragon brother had provoked the storm.

Once my ears had stopped ringing from anger, broken glass, and thunder, I swung toward my father, bumping into Remo. “You made Joshua Locklear draca, Iba?”

I wasn’t sure if I was shaking with anger or if Remo was, since his chest was flush with my shoulder blades. Maybe we both shook.

Iba stared out the broken window. “He was the only person who knew where you were and would only volunteer the information against a gajoï.”

Had that been Josh’s end goal all along? I doubted he was smart enough to have planned that far ahead, but damn, had my disappearance been convenient. Again, I lamented asking for his help. Sure it had brought me close to Remo, and we’d found Cruz, and killed Kingston, but now Joshua had an inordinate amount of power and weight. Skies only knew what he would do with it.

Iba approached me slowly. “It was either that or your hand. I chose not to sacrifice you a second and final time.” His gaze darted to Remo, whose heart seemed to beat more violently against my tensed spine.

“You have no reason to apologize, Iba.”

“I do, Amara. I should never—” He faltered and cleared his throat. “I should never have forced your hand into the Cauldron in the first place. I should never have told you about my suspicions about Kingston.”

“It’s not your fault I ended up in that prison, Iba.” I wanted to add that I wasn’t angry about the first part, but I didn’t want to have this conversation in front of so many people. “Is Gregor still wariff?”

Iba dragged his palms down the length of his face. “No.”

“Who is then?” Giya asked.

Silas crossed over to us, his shoulder-length hair unbound. More gray had threaded itself through the brown, our disappearance indubitably the source of these silvering strands. He stopped beside Iba. “I am.”

Relief washed over me. “Thank Gejaiwe.”

Remo sucked in a breath. I took it that was news to him, too. Good news, since his quaking had lessened.

“Joshua might be draca,” Iba added, “but I am still king.” His face was set with the confidence and calm of someone who knew how to do his job, and do it well.

“We’ll keep him in line,” Silas added.

“Where’s Gregor?” I asked.

Silas stared around the apartment, and it struck me it might be Gregor’s—so garishly fancy, and that painting of Neverra. Who else longed to immortalize Neverra with the mist? “Awaiting his trial,” he finally said.

I peeked over my shoulder, found the vein at Remo’s temple distending, found his fingers balled into fists.

“Now, I know you’re all tired, but Silas and I would really like to hear what you kids have endured these last three weeks,” Iba said.

Three weeks? We’d been gone three weeks?

Silas dismissed the lucionaga in attendance until only my family and Remo’s remained. Oh, and Cruz. He was still there, arms crossed, standing on the outskirts of our tight-knit circle. He’d find his place eventually.

As my eyes swung back toward my father, they caught on my aunt, tucked into the crook of Geemee’s tattooed arm, her cheek pressed into his chest. As I watched them, reassurance washed over me. What they shared, what they’d built was solid and beautiful and would withstand the return of Cruz Vega.

Nima threaded her fingers through Iba’s. “It’s just us. You can speak freely.”

Where to begin?

Without missing a beat, Giya said, “Well, Sook was eaten by a shark.”

Even though it wasn’t really funny, I burst out laughing. She too laughed. Sook grinned but shoved his sister, which earned him a glower from his father. Finally, the tension on Remo’s face

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