Bercelak looked at Fearghus over his shoulder and, with a small nod, Fearghus told his father to move back. They all needed to move back. Now.

Salebiri pointed one of his tentacles at the queen. “Annwyl!”

Annwyl gazed down at Salebiri, her head turning first one way, then another.

The sight of him, like that, seemed to trigger something in her that many had not seen in years. Her unrestrained rage. A rage with no questions. No concerns. No doubts.

“Kill it,” Annwyl said, her voice carrying on the wind. Then she bellowed, “Kill them alllllllllll”

The demon things suddenly charged down the hill right toward them.

“Fucking move!” Fearghus ordered, using his tail to grab hold of both his children as his wings took him to the sky.

Their human armies made a crazed run for it, charging off to opposite sides.

But Salebiri didn’t move fast enough. He didn’t move at all. Instead, he pointed at the Zealot priests and priestesses nearby and yelled, “Call to him! Call to him now!”

The Zealots did as ordered, raising their voices to their god . . . but he did not come. He did not appear. Chramnesind did not give his loyal followers the power they begged for to fight off this new attack.

With no sign of help, Salebiri tried to build a defense with the twisted warriors he still had, but it was too late. Annwyl’s demon animals had closed the gap. Roaring—the animals and Annwyl—battered Salebiri’s men, taking them down and tearing into them.

Tentacles flew into the air as they were ripped off. Claws tore into gray flesh. The screams of the Zealots rang out but nothing could or would help them. Not when Annwyl was like this. Not when she had no intention of stopping.

Fearghus landed on a safe hill so they could watch the carnage from a distance. He placed his children on the ground and they moved in front of him.

“Well,” Talwyn said, “Mum’s back.”

Talan nodded. “And she’s brought hell with her.”

“Now you two can see why I love that woman.”

The twins looked up at him, their faces matching images of consternation.

And their expressions didn’t change when he smiled....

Chapter Thirty-Five

The corpse-eaters feasted on the bodies of the Zealots—some, tragically, not fully dead yet—and Annwyl made her way to Salebiri’s castle.

By the time she stood at the doors, she knew she was no longer alone. She walked inside and Vateria stood in the middle of her Main Hall, waiting.

“So,” Vateria said, “it’s you and I, Blood Queen.”

Annwyl shook her head. “I have no issues with you. Now that I think about it . . .” Annwyl glanced off for a moment before finishing, “I barely fucking know you.”

“Then what do you want?”

The roof of the castle was abruptly torn away, stones and wood raining down.

Annwyl didn’t even bother to move. She was still close to the door if she had to make a run for it.

From above, Gaius Domitus looked down at Vateria.

“My sister sends greetings, cousin.”

Cadwaladrs in human form came in behind Annwyl. Other dragon kin leaned in from above with Gaius.

Vateria shrugged. “Do your worst. My children are dead. I have nothing left to lose.”

“The demons killed your children?” Annwyl had made it clear to them that sort of behavior would not be tolerated, but she did see the bodies of the young behind Vateria.

“No,” Vateria replied. “I killed my children. So they would not be captured by the likes of you.”

Blinking hard in shock, Annwyl muttered, “Wow.”

“So come, Gaius. Come, Blood Queen. Do your worst to me.”

Annwyl was ready to do just that after what Vateria had done to her own children, but then she heard it. The telltale bang-drag, bang-drag, bang-drag.

Moving slowly from behind them, panting with exertion, Brigida entered the castle, and the Cadwaladrs parted without waiting for her to ask.

And Annwyl did the same.

The old She-dragon, in her human form, made her way over to Vateria until she was only a few feet away. She raised her free hand and flicked it in their direction.

“Out. All of you.”

And they all left. Again, without question. Even Gaius.

They walked away from the castle, back to the armies, where they waited.

When they heard the first scream coming from the castle, they moved farther away.

No one wanted to know what Brigida was doing. What Vateria was going through.

Once again, not even Gaius, who hated his cousin with every fiber of his being.

As orders were given to the various armies and the preparations began for the long trips home, eventually they all seemed to forget about Vateria and whatever horror she was going through.

For all she had done, maybe she deserved the suffering.

But then, after a few hours, Annwyl went back to the castle. There were no guards, no soldiers, no servants left here. Just a lump under a tapestry.

Annwyl went over and pulled the material back. She cringed and stepped away, her fist pressing against her nose to block out the smell of an already-decomposing corpse. A human corpse that did not change back to dragon in death, which Annwyl had never heard of before.

But it was the face . . . or what was left of it that disturbed Annwyl the most. Such horror, such unbelievable terror on that rotting face. Frozen that way in death.

“Gods, Vateria,” Annwyl whispered, “what the hells did she do to you?”

* * *

Benedetto stayed hidden in the woods, tears streaming down his face. When the final battle had turned, his mother had smuggled him out through the tunnels but she had stayed behind, knowing that the Abominations wouldn’t stop until they’d tracked her down.

He didn’t know if his brothers had gotten out. Something told him they hadn’t. That she’d also used the younger boys to protect him.

But now what was he to do? He had no one and nowhere to go.

Benedetto’s head snapped up when he heard someone coming through the trees toward him. He started to jump up, but a gravelly, rough voice said, “Don’t bother. I know you’re there, boy.”

He sat back down. Good. He’d been caught. Now they could kill him and it would be over.

She came out of the trees, covered head to toe in a gray robe, her face hidden. But he saw her walking stick, saw the power that emanated from it. He was doomed.

She stopped in front of him and he could smell the flame that was buried under human skin. A She-dragon.

“You’re her boy, ain’t’ cha?”

“I am.”

“And proud, too.”

“I’ll always be proud of my mother. Now just kill me and get it over with.”

“I could kill ya, but looking at you, such a strong, young boy with so much untapped power . . . I think I got a better plan now.”

“Plan for what?”

“To get me an apprentice.”

Confused, Benedetto asked, “But . . . why? I mean, you’re with the Abominations, aren’t you?”

“They’re kin.”

“Then why? Why would you want me as an apprentice?”

“Well . . . I guess I feel I owe your mum a bit. For me new life.”

“New life?”

She pulled back the hood of her robe and Benedetto gasped at the beautiful face staring at him. With one big blue eye and long, soft white hair falling onto smooth cheeks. Only her one milky-gray eye suggested a harder life than Benedetto had ever experienced.

He didn’t understand. From the voice, he’d thought the She-dragon would be ancient. But her face . . . her hands . . . everything but her voice was young.

“Come, boy. Let’s get you safe.”

Not knowing what else to do, he stood and together they walked away from the war and the life Benedetto had once had.

“What’s your name, boy?” the She-dragon asked.

“Benedetto. Benedetto Salebiri.”

“Well, I’m your new mistress, Benedetto. I will teach you what I know.”

“All right.”

They walked on and, finally, when she still had not killed him or led him into a group of armed Abominations scouring the hills for any survivors—simply toying with him as his mother would have anyone else—he asked, “And your name, Mistress?”