Chapter 7
1112 Words
“Interesting, Sorenna Thorne.” Rhysand’s voice curled like smoke, rich and sharp, as a dark grin tugged at the corners of his lips. He leaned back, arms folded across his broad chest, golden eyes fixed on me like a predator enjoying the chase. “All that fire… only to burn out when it truly matters.”
There was something unsettling in the way he said it, like he was savoring the idea of my failure.
I’d never seen someone so thrilled by the idea of watching his enemy fall. But Rhysand didn’t just want to win… He wanted to watch me break.
This was my second try.
Rhysand had made it clear—if I failed again, he’d burn me alive. And by the way his eyes locked onto me now, unblinking and unreadable, I knew he meant every word.
Fear clawed up my throat, but I shoved it down. I had to reach for the power I knew was there—flowing like fire in my veins, wild and ancient. I tried to recall how it had surged through me back at the royal banquet, when flames had answered my call before the stunned eyes of my father and the people.
But even that memory made my stomach turn.
So I forced everything else away. No fear. No pain. No past.
Just now.
Rhysand’s dragon watched me with terrifying stillness, her massive golden eyes glowing like embers, waiting—no, anticipating. One breath, and she would unleash the fire curling in her throat.
And I would be ash.
Unless I stopped time.
“I’m waiting, Thorne.”
His voice was smooth but laced with despair. “My time is far too precious to waste.”
His lips twisted into something that wasn’t quite a smile and yet sent chills crawling over my skin. His eyes didn’t just watch me; they scorched, like they were peeling back every layer of my fear, my thoughts, and my doubt.
“I want to see that book…” He tilted his head toward the thick, dust-blue volume lying across the window table. “…appear on this bed. Right here. The second you're done.”
His tone was final. The kind of command you obeyed if you valued your life.
Goddamn it.
The cold deepened outside. Through the glass walls, I watched the snow fall in soft, hushed flakes, layering the stone path and rooftops in white.
It was almost too peaceful. The river that lay at the center of the tattooed princes’ court remained untouched, its surface dark and still, reflecting the stars like a mirror to the heavens.
As if even the snow dared not disturb its sacred calm.
But inside me, nothing was calm.
I was sweating.
A bead slid down my spine, unwelcome and mocking.
My fingers trembled at my sides, my heart pounding with a force I couldn’t tame. And still—I stood tall.
Still. Silent. I wouldn’t let him see it. I wouldn’t let him win.
I shut my eyes and braced for the blow. This could be my last day. My heart ached for my siblings as I reached deep within, willing the power coursing through my veins to show itself.
But nothing.
I opened my eyes, pleading silently at Rhysand, and I swear he looked like he was savoring the sight—my desperation laid bare before him.
“You can’t,” he growled, frustration burning in his voice. “I’m done waiting. Rumors should never be taken seriously... but I’ve humored you long enough.” His gaze darkened, monstrous with anger. “No need for words that won’t change anything. Just say it.”
“Say what?” I asked, curiosity tinged with a cold dread curling deep in my bones.
“Say your last prayer, Sorenna Thorne,” Rhysand said, his voice a silken blade. Then, without looking at me, he locked eyes with his dragon and gave the order.
“Burn, Ralor.”
His lips curled into something devilish—something almost pleased.
My legs trembled beneath me as the great beast rolled her tongue, fire already building in the back of her throat, ready to unleash.
But just as the heat rose in the air, Rhysand’s voice lashed out again, sharp and amused.
“Not yet, Ralor.”
He tilted his head, watching me like a king who had just discovered a more twisted form of sport.
“I’ve had a change of mind. It’s far more satisfying to throw her to the wolves than to let her die so quickly by your flames.”
With gritted teeth and a sinking heart, my eyes burned with unshed tears. For the briefest second, a flicker of relief slipped through—only to vanish just as quickly.
“Take me back to where you found me. Please. I can’t stay here... I need to go back to my kingdom. I’m not what you’re looking for.”
Rhysand laughed, dark and intimidating.
“You have no kingdom to return to, Thorne,” he said, his voice a cold blade. “If not for your foolish father, you might still be safe. The Sylvarrians wouldn’t have broken the vow we all swore three years ago.”
His golden eyes narrowed, and the fury beneath his skin finally cracked through.
“But now the truth is out. You’re the Three Star Bearers, and for that, everyone will come for you. And soon the Thornevaldians would come looking for you.”
He leaned in, his words like venom.
“Just so you know, you’re already dead meat, Sorenna. And the worst part? You can’t even use the power you claim to carry.”
Tears blurred my vision.
He was right.
My kingdom was gone, burned to cinders. My father. My siblings. My life. All of it… ash.
And now I was here. Trapped. Powerless. A ghost of a girl with no throne, no family, and no future, only a fate written in blood and stars.
“If you kick me out…” I started, my voice cracking. It was hard to think, harder to breathe.
“There’s no chance I’ll survive the trueborn princes and the third prince clan ship, is there? Why are they after me?”
My throat thickened with pain, the question hanging in the air like frost.
Rhysand didn’t flinch. “Why don’t you find out, Thorne?”
His stare was lifeless, cold as winter steel. He turned without another word, leading me out of the court. I followed, legs trembling beneath me. And then…
The gate slammed behind me. Just like that, I was outside.
Alone in the wild. Waiting to be devoured.
- Writer
