The Dragon King and His Fallen Star novel Chapter 93

Chapter 93: When Flames and Stars Collide

KIERYGAN’S POV

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The wind roared past me as I soared above the festival square, the cheers of the crowd dim beneath the beat of my wings.

But something felt wrong. A knot twisted deep in my gut, tightening with every second passed.

I felt fear. But it wasn’t mine.

Eirlys.

Her panic slammed into me like a blow, raw and breathless. It wasn’t vague or fleeting. It was sharp. Focused. Real.

I scanned the square below, circling above the crowd-searching for her pale hair, the shimmer of her glow, the sparkle of her dress.

Nothing.

She was nowhere in sight.

But she hadn’t left. I could still feel her. Somewhere beneath me, she was here.

I almost abandoned the flight right then-to find her. But hundreds of faces stared up in awe,

expectant and wide-eyed. This was their first festival in fifteen years. Fifteen years of war, silence,

and blood beneath Malric’s iron grip.

I couldn’t falter now. I couldn’t let their hope slip back into shadow.

So I resolved to finish this quickly-and then find her.

But as I soared higher, the unease only deepened. Something was wrong. Horribly wrong. Because with every stroke of my wings, her fear didn’t fade. It grew deeper.

And I could taste it now-bitter, suffocating, like smoke in my throat.

“Hang in there, my star,” I whispered into the wind.

I dipped lower. Once. Just one more pass. Then I dove straight down toward the ceremonial firepit, opened my jaw, and unleashed the dragon flame.

The blaze erupted instantly, coiling into a breathtaking inferno. Gasps rippled through the crowd- then cheers. Faces lit up, bathed in gold and amber. My wings snapped open to break the descent as I landed hard at the far end of the square. The earth shuddered beneath my talons.

I shifted mid-stride and sprinted toward where I’d left her.

Evander and Ulyanna were already moving, their faces grim.

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< Chapter 93 When Flames and Stars Collide

“Where is she?” I barked.

“She was just right here with us,” Evander said, eyes scanning. “Then suddenly, she’s gone.”

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“If someone had taken her under our noses, we would’ve felt it,” Ulyanna snapped, her voice sharp with disbelief.

My gaze swept the square-dancers twirling, villagers clapping, lost in revelry. Drunk on joy.

But my heart pounded. Could it be Malric and Morwenna?

No. I could still feel her. She was here. But the noise, the crowd-it all blurred my senses.

Suddenly, the cheers turned to screams. Not of fear but of astonishment. Fingers pointed toward the blaze I had just created.

I turned slowly.

At first, I thought it was just the flames dancing in the autumn wind. But then, the fire began to shift -gathering, shaping itself into a figure.

A familiar figure.

It staggered as it climbed out of the firepit.

My heart stopped. “Eirlys.”

The flames licked at her dress, devouring the fabric-but her skin remained untouched. Unmarred.

The fire moved around her, curling close without ever daring to harm her.

As if it feared her.

Eirlys reached the edge of the pit-and jumped.

She collapsed onto the stone, folding in on herself, arms wrapped tightly around her knees as if trying to disappear. Her hair clung to her shoulders n damp, ash-laced strands. Her dress had burned away. She was bare, streaked with soot, trembling.

My feet moved before I could think.

I shoved through the circle of onlookers and dropped to my knees beside her. My coat was off in a heartbeat, wrapped around her shoulders.

“Eirlys.” My voice cracked. “How did you…? How did you end up in there?”

She didn’t answer.

Her eyes were wide and distant, lips quivering. She was still shaking-not from the cold, but from

whatever hell she’d just emerged from.

I gathered her gently into my arms, careful not to jastle her. She didn’t resist-just clung to me, her

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fingers curling tightly around my neck.

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Ulyanna stood nearby, face pale and drawn with fury-likely blaming herself for letting this happen.

Ahead of us, Evander cut a path through the crowd his voice sharp and commanding. “Make way!”

Behind us, the whispers had begun.

“She’s untouched by the dragon’s flame…”

“I saw it. She stepped out of the fire, glowing…”

“She should be dead.”

“She’s the Bloombringer. Fire can’t burn her.”

The murmurs rose like a hymn, thick with awe and trembling wonder. Reverence bled into fear, into longing-each voice straining for a glimpse of the living myth in my arms.

I turned just enough to meet their eyes, my glare sharp as a blade. A silent warning: Keep your distance. She’s mine.

I carried her through the crowd. Away from the fire, the whispers, the stares and pointing fingers. Her breath was shallow against my collarbone. She hadn’t spoken a word.

Evander led the way, his usual charm stripped to bare vigilance. He didn’t need blades. He was a

weapon on his own.

Ulyanna followed close behind, silent and seething.

We rounded a bend near the citadel steps-and there stood Orryx, Callum, Nerissa, and Solara,

caught mid-conversation. They froze at the sight of us. Solara’s eyes widened as they landed on the soot-streaked girl draped in my coat.

“Heavens,” she breathed. “What happened?”

I didn’t answer. I didn’t slow. I walked past them, jaw tight, and heat hammering.

By the time we reached the palace gates, her trembling had stopped. But I held her tighter. She hadn’t moved, hadn’t spoken.

I barked at the nearest guard before the doors had even finished opening. “Get Danaiah. Now.”

The guards flinched at my tone but scrambled into motion.

I strode through the halls, taking the stairs two at a time, until we reached her chambers. I kicked the door open and headed straight for the bathing room.

Grace emerged just then, having filled the tub. She dipped her head in a quick bow and slipped out without a word.

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I knelt beside the tub and carefully lowered Eirlys into the water, peeling the coat from her

shoulders. She flinched, curling in on herself, arms wrapped around her knees. A soft whimper escaped her as she turned away.

“It’s alright, I murmured, voice gentling. “I’ve done this before. Twice.”

She went still, lashes fluttering as she looked at me eyes searching-wordlessly asking when. Of

course, she didn’t remember. The first time, she’d been drunk. The second, unconscious from

exhaustion when I’d flown her back from Greenhollow.

A faint flush bloomed across her cheeks. But she didn’t pull away. Slowly, she sank deeper into the

water, arms still crossed over her chest, but no longer hiding.

That’s it, I thought. No need to hide from me. No need to hide what’s mine.

I knelt beside the tub, took a clean cloth, and began to gently wipe away the soot. My hands

moved slowly, carefully. Savoring the sparks only I could feel.

I let her keep her silence. She was confused. Terrified. She’d speak when she was ready.

When I judged the water warm enough and the soot gone from her skin, I reached for the towel

and lifted her out.

She didn’t resist.

I wrapped her carefully, drying her with slow, reverent motions. Then I dressed her in the soft nightgown Grace had laid out-delicate fabric against skin that had endured too much fire tonight.

When I carried her back into the room, Danaiah was already waiting, flanked by Ulyanna and

Evander.

I laid Eirlys gently onto the bed.

Danaiah approached without a word, her hands faintly aglow. She sat at the mattress’s edge and

tilted Eirlys’s chin with two fingers. “Are you hurt anywhere?”

A long silence stretched between them.

“My head,” Eirlys whispered at last, reaching weakly toward the back of her skull. “I… I was hit.

Someone struck me. I lost consciousness.”

Danaiah nodded, guiding her to lie on her side to inspect the injury. As Eirlys shifted, her eyes met

mine-wide, uncertain, beginning to shimmer.

“When I woke up,” she murmured, her voice trembling, “I was on top of the firewood. In the pit.

Bound. Someone had tied me up…”

”

Ulyanna stepped forward, a frown deepening between her brows. “But you were beside us. I only

looked away for a second…”

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