Iron Flame (The Empyrean, #2)

by Rebecca Yarros

“It smells like the interrogation chamber.” “We’ll set that room on fire before we leave,” he promises.

The dragon’s cry shakes the foundation of the chamber and stops abruptly when Jack pushes the blade all the way through the front of her throat.

Wtf??

“Fucking Jack,” Rhi mutters. “Fucking Jack,” I agree.

Yeah fuck that guy!

“Why is it that only my daughters speak out of turn?” “We get it from our mother,” Mira snipes in a dry tone, and that lethal look pivots to her.

“Rain?” Xaden looks up. “In December?” Warmth. Rain. The charge in the air. “It’s my mother.” A slow smile spreads across my face. “It’s her way of imbuing her favorite weapon.” Me.

“You breathe fire,” Tairn acknowledges, a note of pride in his voice. “I breathe fire.” Andarna extends her neck to the fullest.

“If you didn’t figure it out, you weren’t worthy of knowing.” She huffs. “I waited six hundred and fifty years to hatch. Waited until your eighteenth summer, when I heard our elders talk of the weakling daughter of their general, the girl forecasted to become the head of the scribes, and I knew. You would have the mind of a scribe and the heart of a rider. You would be mine.” She leans into my hand. “You are as unique as I am. We want the same things.”

“You are not a black dragon, or any of the six that we know of. You’re a seventh breed.”

“You must save yourself,” Tairn demands. “I chose you not as my next, but as my last, and should you fall, then I will follow.”

“Me,” he whispers, a faint, almost indistinguishable red ring emanating from his gold-flecked onyx irises. “You should be scared of me.”