The Dragon King and His Fallen Star novel Chapter 10

Chapter 10: The Dragon’s Return

KIERYGAN’S POV

I had been flying for two days.

First to Mount Kyros, the old volcano that once shaped the northern lands of our kingdom. Beneath it, the Pyraethyst mine pulsed with dormant power. I descended in silence, shifting out of my dragon form and slipping past the warded runes carved into the black stone.

The mine was still intact.

Inside the dark tunnels, the Pyraethyst shimmered faintly in the dim torchlight, like fire trapped beneath stone. I ran a hand along the jagged edge of a newly exposed gem. It was cold to the touch, despite being born of volcanic heat.

Unlike the one the girl had given me. Hers had absorbed a flicker of her light, and it still held a quiet warmth. This one looks lifeless now, but in the wrong hands, it could be turned into a weapon.

If Malric wanted the girl back, he’d come for the gems too.

I ordered the mined gems secured, stationed additional guards at every tunnel mouth, and reinforced the arcane wards with fresh blood sigils Ashteryn would have approved of the layering.

I used one of his designs.

I wondered if he’d met with the girl yet, and whether they’d learned anything new about the bracelet. And if they had, I imagined she might’ve frozen again, shrinking beneath the smith’s crabbiness. The thought made me smile. Poor girl must have been scared out of her wits.

I returned to the sky once I was satisfied with the mine’s protection.

High above the land, I soared. My mirrored scales render me nearly invisible against the sunlit blue. From that height, the world stretched beneath me: shifting forests, fractured rivers, mountains

dusted in snow.

But I wasn’t searching for beauty. I was hunting for something vile.

I swept north, toward the ruins of Moonspire, the former capital of Vargheim, the werewolves‘ realm. Once proud. Now nothing but a graveyard of stone and ash.

There were no signs of Malric or his witch. No clues. Only silence, old bones, and the lingering

stench of blood long dried.

I circled once. Twice. I waited, watching the neighboring towns and cities. But nothing stirred.

So I pushed farther, beyond the charred edges of Vargheim, into the icy ridges that stretched past

the wolves‘ lands. I was determined to find them. Or at least something that might lead me to

them.

1/4

Chapter 10. The Dragons Return

But something pulled at me. A tug. Faint as a breath against the back of my mind. A whisper threading through the cold, as if beckoning me home.

I ignored it at first. Shook it off like I would a dream But it grew stronger with every beat of my wings, gnawing at my mind like a restless thought that wouldn’t quiet.

But something told me I should listen.

Finally, I turned.

Invisible against the clouds, I angled my wings toward Altierra.

Before the sun had moved an inch, Solmere appeared on the horizon. I swept over hills and snow–laced fields. From above, everything looked untouched.

But predators like me notice the smallest twitch, a movement that doesn’t belong.

Even from the sky, I saw it: a glimmer of silver and white, barely distinguishable from the snow.

The girl.

She’s standing on a frozen lake.

What in the gods‘ name was she doing there? She was too frightened to leave her room, barely spoke above a whisper. And yet here she was, far from the castle, wandering into the wild.

Before I could even tilt my wings for another flap, the ice beneath her cracked. And she vanished.

She surfaced once. Her hands pounding desperately against the ice. Her pale face just beneath the surface, eyes wide in panic, lips parted in a silent scream.

My gut twisted. She was running out of air.

She slammed her fists again, weaker this time. Her gaze flicked upward, then stilled, resigned. She

was giving up.

I dove without hesitation, the sky a blur around me, Fire surged up from my chest, and I exhaled at torrent so hot it shattered the ice like glass. The sheet cracked, splintered, then gave way to a hiss

of steam.

I shifted mid–air, the cold slapping against my hot skin as I hit the water and dragged her

her on the snow. Her skin was bone–pale, lips tinged blue. She wasn’t breathing.

劃

“No,” I growled under my breath. “Don’t you dare give up.”

I pressed my palm to her chest, forcing the water gut. Again and again.

“Breathe,” I hissed. “Come on.”

I kept going, relentless, until at last she coughed–followed by a sharp, ragged gasp.

1. UT. I laid

2/1

pter 10 The Dragon’s Return

Glam

She choked, then coughed again, and I caught her before she rolled onto her side. Without thinking. I pulled her to my chest, cradling her close. My skin ran hotter than most; she needed that heat.

“You’re alright now,” I murmured, tightening my hold.

She shivered violently against me, soaking wet, barely conscious. But alive.

I adjusted her in my arms as I made my way back to the castle. The frost–covered forest closed in around us like a mouth as I crossed into the treeline. Her head lolled against my shoulder, skin still

cold, breaths shallow but steady. Every step I took was slow, careful.

Then came the crunch of snow underfoot.

Mirael emerged from the trees, cloaked in midnight blue, her hair untouched by wind or frost. She halted when she saw me, the color draining from her face. Her gaze darted from mine to the girl cradled in my arms. For a moment, something like worry crossed her features–but it didn’t quite land.

“Thank the gods you found her,” she declared, a little too theatrically. “I was looking for her.”

I didn’t answer. I didn’t stop walking, either.

She moved to fall in step beside me, boots crunching softly over ice–laced roots. “You’re… you’re back early” she said. “I thought you weren’t due until tomorrow night.“”

Still, I said nothing. Not until the castle towers came into view beyond the thinning trees. Then, in a low voice, I asked, “How did she end up on a frozen lake?*

Mirael swallowed. “We were spending time together. I wanted to make it up to her after the last time. Thought it might help her come out of her shell,” she said, voice light, almost coaxing. “But then she saw a butterfly and just ran off. I tried to follow, but she disappeared into the woods. searched everywhere.”

I stopped walking. So did she.

Slowly, I turned my head toward her. “You, a seasoned spy, lost a girl in the woods?”

She tried to keep her face still, but the nervous swallow didn’t escape me.

“You, who hunted Malric’s scouts through the Nightingrove?” I asked. “Who tracked an enemy battalion through a blizzard without leaving a single trace behind? And you expect me to believe a

frail, frightened girl slipped away from you.”

Her mouth opened again, but I was already walking. She followed in silence until we crossed the

castle threshold, I stopped, turned to her.

“Leave,” I growled. “Now.”

She didn’t argue. She knew me well enough not to.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify