The Dragon King and His Fallen Star novel Chapter 105

Chapter 105: The Rescue and the Reckoning

KIERYGAN’S POV

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Malric’s arm trembled in my grip, the whip still dangling uselessly from his hand. I tightened my hold until bone ground against bone.

He snarled through clenched teeth. “You should’ve died with your family.”

His teeth elongated into vicious fangs as he partially shifted into his wolf form. “But I’ll fix that

today.”

Without warning, his other arm lashed out, aiming for my throat. I twisted away just in time-his claws raked my shoulder instead.

My head snapped forward, smashing into his skull with a crack that rang in my ears. He staggered, dazed, but I caught him before he could fall. My talons tore across his chest, carving deep, bleeding furrows, before I slammed him into the stone wall so hard the impact shook loose a rain

of dust from the ceiling.

Before I could strike again, a violent pulse of magic slammed into my ribs, knocking the breath from me. I staggered, turning to find Morwenna standing just beyond the shadows, her hands

wreathed in a sickly, pulsing glow.

She hurled another bolt. It cracked across my skin, sparks skittering and snapping like angry hornets. Where it struck scale, it hissed and died, evaporating in a sharp sizzle-like water spitting

on red-hot metal.

Her eyes narrowed. She had noticed.

“You think that makes you untouchable?” she spat.

“No.” My voice dropped, guttural and edged with something primal. My own beast clawed for the surface-teeth lengthening, claws sliding free, heat pooling in my lungs. “It just makes me harder

to kill.”

Malric lunged, trying to sink his canines into my throat. But I was faster. My hand shot up, clamping around his neck, lifting him from the ground. His teeth barely grazed my skin before I cut off his air.

“Malric!” Morwenna’s voice cracked with panic.

She hurled another ball of magic, but I swung his body into its path, his snarl twisting into a scream

as the blast burned into his flesh.

With a roar, I slammed him to his knees and wrapped my talons around his skull. His golden

wolf-eyes met mine, still defiant, even now.

“This is for my family,” I growled, my grip tightening until I felt the skull strain. “And this… is for

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Chapter 105 The Rescue and the Reckoning

Eirlys.”

My other hand slashed-clean, brutal. His head came free in a spray of hot blood, his body crumpling forward. I caught it and flung it at Morwenna.

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She screamed as the corpse struck her, knocking her sprawling. Blood smeared down her gown.

I gripped Malric’s severed head by the hair. His once-glaring golden eyes were dull now, the eternal sneer erased from his face.

“You will pay for this, dragon,” Morwenna spat, stepping out from the dark. Her voice dripped with venom. “The Light Reaper will come for you. For her. For all of you. And when he does, your fire will

not save you.”

Magic bloomed in her palms again, a sickly, pulsing light that stank of iron and ash. I surged

toward her, read.

tear her apart, but her hands twisted sharply-and reality itself split open

behind her.

The rift yawned wide, shadows writhing like living things. Clutching Malric’s headless body, she stepped back into the void. The darkness swallowed them whole, leaving behind only the sharp tang of blood and the metallic sting of her magic hanging in the air.

I let the silence stretch, my gaze fixed on the blood pattering from Malric’s severed head. One threat was ended. Another had just been promised

A soft whimper cut through the heavy silence-faint, but enough to pierce the haze of blood and

smoke clouding my head.

I turned. My chest clenched so hard it hurt.

Eirlys still hung from those cursed chains, head bowed, blood streaking down her back and across her torn clothes. Bruises bloomed dark along her ribs, telling a story I didn’t want to hear. My gaze fell to her knees-one bent at an unnatural angle.

Black bled into the edges of my vision. They’d broken her bones. Again.

I let Malric’s head drop to the stone with a dull, wet thud and crossed the space in three strides. My arm slid around her waist, lifting her to take the weight from her knees. My free hand cupped her face gently, smearing her skin with Malric’s blood.

Her eyelids fluttered before she forced them open, the effort etched into every tremor of her gaze.

I could see it was costing her dearly to stay conscious.

“I… didn’t give them anything,” she rasped, every word scraped raw. “I didn’t.”

“Shh.” I shook my head. “That’s not my concern right now. You’re safe. I’m taking you home. That’s

all that matters.”

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Chapter 105: The Rescue and the Reckoning

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Some of the strain left her face-until worry flared again. “Scylla,” she whispered, before slumping

forward into unconsciousness. I caught her head before it fell, holding her steady as I reached for

the chains.

The iron bit into my fingers, but the links yielded with a sharp twist and snap of my wrists. I gathered her into my arms, feeling every fragile breath, every tremor that racked her body.

Bootsteps pounded behind me.

Evander and Ashteryn came through the iron door, both streaked with the blood of those they’d

felled.

“We’ve dealt with Malric’s men,” Ashteryn said, his voice a low growl. “Some escaped-”

The words died in his throat.

His gaze locked on Eirlys in my arms. The color drained from his face, his grip on the axe

tightening until his knuckles blanched. “Gods…” His voice cracked, rage and disbelief warring in his eyes. “Gods above, what have they done to her?”

He took a step forward, almost stumbling, as if the sight alone had driven a fist into his gut. The

raw shock in his face fanned another surge of rage in me, but I forced it down. I turned on Evander.

“Help Scylla,” I ordered, nodding toward the far wall

Evander’s gaze snapped in that direction. His eyes widened. “Scylla? What in the hell was she doing here?”

Before I could answer, he blurred from sight, reappearing at her side. A heartbeat later, the harsh rattle of chains hitting stone echoed through the chamber.

Evander lifted Scylla into his arms with a care I hadn’t seen from him in years. She hung limp and pale, her breath shallow but steady. Without a word he fell into step beside me as we left the cave.

The night air struck like a balm after the damp, cloying stench of stone and blood. Outside, Ulyanna waited, cradling Nibbles-now back to his normal size-in her arms. The little beast looked

smug, his fur streaked with blood that was definitely not his own.

Orryx and Callum stood nearby, wiping gore from their blades and clothes.

“You should’ve seen Nibbles fight,” Ulyanna said with a grin, stroking the creature’s head. “So fierce,

so fast-”

Her voice faltered the instant her eyes found what we carried: Eirlys in my arms. Scylla in

Evander’s. Both unmoving. Both bloodied.

Ulyanna’s smile vanished. “Sweet stars,” she breathed. “We need to get them seen to. Immediately.

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Chapter 105. The Rescue and the Reckoning

I didn’t waste another heartbeat.

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Shifting, I cradled Eirlys carefully in my talons. Beside me, Evander’s form blurred and vanished as he phased. The others moved with us.

Urgency and rage drove me forward. Solmere’s walls rose on the horizon far sooner than I’d

expected.

Evander went straight to the infirmary, where Danaiah moved at once to tend to Scylla.

I took Eirlys to my chambers. I wasn’t leaving her-not after what they’d done, not after the way

she’d fought to stay strong.

Laying her gently on my bed, I brushed the blood-matted strands of hair from her face. For a moment, I simply stood there, watching her chest rise and fall, grounding myself in the proof that

she was still alive.

Then I turned and crossed to the bathing chamber, fetching a basin of water and a clean cloth. I would wash her, tend to every wound. And I would not take my eyes off her.

I knelt beside the bed and lifted a damp cloth from the basin.

A soft whimper escaped her lips as I began to wipe away the blood and grime. Each gentle touch drew a flicker of pain, but she didn’t wake.

I shifted her gently, easing her onto her side, careful not to jar the broken bones. My teeth clenched at the cruel scars twisting across her back, each one a brutal reminder of what they’d done.

When the worst was cleaned, I lowered myself closer. My tongue-rough, heated-traced the jagged lines, pressing softly against torn flesh.

Every wound, every mark left by Malric and Morwenna, I traced with slow, deliberate care, coaxing

the torn skin to draw together.

She shivered beneath my touch, then gradually eased into the healing as the skin knitted itself

whole.

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