Dawn of Cobalt Shadows (Burning Empire Book 2) by Emma Hamm (free novels to read TXT) 📗

like a river of red. She touched the finger to her tongue, relieved it was wine and angered that they were wasting so much.

A Beastkin man stumbled by her. One of the Bymerians who clearly wasn’t used to the strength of Earthen alcohol. He weaved down the street with a hollowed out gourd in his hand. Liquid sloshed, spilling over the edges and falling onto the stone path.

“Dragoness,” he said, slurring his words. “You were supposed to be here a while ago.”

“And drink wasn’t supposed to be opened until this evening,” she replied, catching ahold of his arm when his knees buckled. “Which tent is yours, brother?”

“I don’t rightly know where I am, to be honest.” He leered up at her, his eyes crossing for a moment before he righted himself. “You’ve got beautiful eyes, love.”

Camilla ducked between them before Sigrid lost her temper entirely. “I’ll take him back to his tent. I know which one is his.”

The anger within her burned so hot, she almost punished him for the words regardless of her friend stepping in. But that wasn’t her. That was the ridiculous creature inside her who was making itself more known as of late.

Sigrid stepped back and nodded. “See that you do.”

The hissing whisper of her friend filled the air as she dragged the man away. “What are you trying to do, get yourself killed?”

Even her own people worried that she would lose her mind and burn them all to the ground. Comforting thought when she lay in her bed alone at night.

Sigrid curled her fingers into fists, squeezing so hard she nearly drew blood. The pain helped her focus, so she wouldn’t think dark thoughts. That after all this bloodshed, after starting a war between two countries, that she could ever regret freeing the Beastkin.

She turned and made her way to the castle. It loomed in the distance, ominous and bold as ever.

They’d yet to name it. Mostly because neither group could decide on what to call the place. Castle, palace, or keep felt wrong to say even though those were technically the words they should be using. They felt too cold to make this place a home, and there were no kings or queens here.

Sigrid was the unofficial matriarch, but the panel of people who made decisions for the Beastkin came from each of the houses that were forming. Predators, prey, avians, all the creatures seemed to have someone who wanted to rise to the forefront. But everyone listened to Sigrid and Jabbar.

She set her shoulder against the double doors leading into the great hall and shoved hard. Think of the devil and he shall appear.

Jabbar sat reclining on top of a large table at the far end of the hall. He lifted a fist full of what she could only assume was cow meat, rivulets of dark blood dripping down his hands. The Thunderbird preferred to have his meat either raw or barely cooked.

Even Sigrid wasn’t so savage.

The interior of the keep hadn’t fared any better than the outside. Food splattered the wall, decorating each and every surface with a mess she couldn’t overlook. There was a splatter of blood coating one side. Hopefully not from one of the Beastkin but from a poor animal they’d feasted upon. Clothing hung from the rafters, and a table was overturned in the corner.

Laughter filled the air along with the sounds of animals grunting and groaning. These, she was certain, were actually Beastkin.

Jabbar’s voice boomed throughout the hall. “Ah yes, the illustrious fighter returns from her solitude!” He lifted the hand full of carrion in her direction. “Welcome home, dragoness.”

It had been Jabbar who’d started calling her that, and the others had fallen quickly into place as well. They had little interest in declaring themselves nicknames that linked them to their creatures. But for her? They wanted her to know that she was different.

Sigrid knew it didn’t come from a dark place. They wanted to honor her with the name, as if she was some kind of mythical creature who had appeared out of nowhere to save them.

To her, it felt like just another declaration that she wasn’t the same as them. That she was some kind of creature who had to be held apart from all the others.

With a sigh, she held her head high and made her way to Jabbar’s side.

He watched her with a calculating gaze. Everything she did was weighed and measured by this man. He didn’t care if their people prospered, not really. Now that they all had a warm place to sleep at night and food in abundance, his mind had turned to darker thoughts.

“Have you finally come to your senses?” he asked as she reached him.

“No,” she answered bluntly. “There is no reason to create a warband. There is no reason to attack the Earthen folk.”

“They held your people captive. I think that’s enough reason right there.”

“With the understanding of our own Beastkin. The captivity was an agreement on both sides. It is no longer an agreement we wish to stand behind, and so we left. They have not followed us, nor have they put up any kind of fight when we tried to free our sisters.” She put heat behind her glare. “Leave it be.”

“We cannot attack anyone without your agreement, Sigrid.”

“And my answer will always be no.”

He shook his head, but his eyes were watching her as if he could see right through her thin control. “You’ll change your mind eventually, dragoness. I’m trying to save you an outright war. Even your own sisters agree with me. Attack the Earthen folk. End this before you regret your decisions.”

She wouldn’t. Sigrid was confident in that regard, but perhaps she was the only one who was. The Earthen folk were not going to attack the Beastkin. Why would they be so foolish? They had seen firsthand what Sigrid was capable of. Rumors and myths traveled fast in these places. No one would take such a risk when there was a