of his blade cutting her free of the worms. Catching his strong arm around her chest, he struck for the surface. He broke through and roared into the sky, a primal cry that was all grief, all pain.
She couldn’t draw a breath to tell him she was fine. She couldn’t turn toward him, take him into her arms and quiet the rough sobs that were her name as he held her close again, hot tears falling against her skin.
Then he gulped in a breath, fingers tugging at the chain around her neck. His voice hardened to steel determination. “I will do anything, Lizzan. Forgive me. But even a monster I will become.”
Holding her, he turned onto his back and began to strike for the shore with sweeping one-armed strokes. Her head was lolled against his shoulder, her feet and arms trailing limply through the water, her gaze fixed up at the clouded sky, where lightning flashed and it seemed her father was smiling down at her, reaching out with his hand before another flash of lightning and the long sweep of a dragon’s body flew her father away.
So she was dead. And soon silver-fingered Rani would come for her, too . . . though the goddess seemed at this moment occupied by the thousands of generations of souls released from Koth’s prison.
Aerax’s hold on her body adjusted, and then his arms came beneath her knees as he lifted her against his chest and strode out of the water onto the shore. In the distance she heard her mother crying, her brother Farzan’s shout as Aerax laid her on the sand. His face came over hers, torment in his eyes. Then Farzan was there, hands at her throat, rolling her onto her side and pounding her back before setting his mouth to hers, blowing air that filled her cheeks while tears fell from his.
When he looked to Aerax and shook his head, her husband pushed him aside. Again he cupped her face, bending over her. “Forgive me for this,” he said hoarsely as lightning flashed close, so close, and she could feel the steam of a dragon’s breath.
Even though Aerax filled her vision, silver-fingered Rani was suddenly all Lizzan saw—black hair braided, eyes snapping with lightning and swimming with tears. Behind her was the dragon, his scales like flickering flames, glowing orange and red and crackling with heat.
“That is not the dragon we freed,” Lizzan told her.
“That was not a dragon at all,” the goddess replied, and her voice was sweet and soft, like a nightingale’s song. “I cannot take you with me while you are bound by Nemek’s hair.”
“And I am full glad,” she said. “For that would be a very long way for Aerax to chase me.”
Hardness crept into Rani’s voice, no longer a sweet songbird but a raptor of prey. “Another snow-haired man once tried to keep me with him.”
“Varrin, the maggoty measle. So I have been told. The difference is that I don’t want to leave Aerax—and that Aerax is nothing like that monster.”
“That is not what he believes.”
“Doesn’t he?” A soft ache started under her heart. “He is full wrong. No more different could they be.”
“Are they?”
“They are. Simply ask him.”
Rani’s smile was lethal as a blade. “Perhaps I will.”
CHAPTER 29
AERAX
Caeb’s rough tongue rasped over Lizzan’s cheek, and the agony in Aerax’s chest had him near to breaking when the cat nudged her yet again, as if trying to urge her to awaken. Full well Caeb had to know that no life was in her, yet he seemed as a helpless kitten, unknowing of what to do.
Aerax knew. Though he would be everything that he’d just destroyed. But if she came back to him? If she came back, he would not care what he’d become.
“If you do not remove that necklace, I cannot take her,” Seri said, though it was not at all Seri’s voice, and lightning crackled in the full black of her eyes.
“Seri?” Tyzen lurched for her, then stopped short at a lift of the girl’s hand, the silver claws on her fingers sparking.
“You do not want to touch me now, young prince. For that will be a kiss you will not recover from.” She glanced back as Caeb rose, snarling, and smiled at the cat. “Hush, beautiful one. Your snow-haired brother hopes to cast a spell to bind her spirit to her flesh, though water still fills her lungs and she will only drown again, in pain and panic. And though the cold