Annwyl was ready to do just that after what Vateria had done to her own children, but then she heard it. The telltale bang-drag, bang-drag, bang-drag.

Moving slowly from behind them, panting with exertion, Brigida entered the castle, and the Cadwaladrs parted without waiting for her to ask.

And Annwyl did the same.

The old She-dragon, in her human form, made her way over to Vateria until she was only a few feet away. She raised her free hand and flicked it in their direction.

“Out. All of you.”

And they all left. Again, without question. Even Gaius.

They walked away from the castle, back to the armies, where they waited.

When they heard the first scream coming from the castle, they moved farther away.

No one wanted to know what Brigida was doing. What Vateria was going through.

Once again, not even Gaius, who hated his cousin with every fiber of his being.

As orders were given to the various armies and the preparations began for the long trips home, eventually they all seemed to forget about Vateria and whatever horror she was going through.

For all she had done, maybe she deserved the suffering.

But then, after a few hours, Annwyl went back to the castle. There were no guards, no soldiers, no servants left here. Just a lump under a tapestry.

Annwyl went over and pulled the material back. She cringed and stepped away, her fist pressing against her nose to block out the smell of an already-decomposing corpse. A human corpse that did not change back to dragon in death, which Annwyl had never heard of before.

But it was the face . . . or what was left of it that disturbed Annwyl the most. Such horror, such unbelievable terror on that rotting face. Frozen that way in death.

“Gods, Vateria,” Annwyl whispered, “what the hells did she do to you?”

* * *

Benedetto stayed hidden in the woods, tears streaming down his face. When the final battle had turned, his mother had smuggled him out through the tunnels but she had stayed behind, knowing that the Abominations wouldn’t stop until they’d tracked her down.

He didn’t know if his brothers had gotten out. Something told him they hadn’t. That she’d also used the younger boys to protect him.

But now what was he to do? He had no one and nowhere to go.

Benedetto’s head snapped up when he heard someone coming through the trees toward him. He started to jump up, but a gravelly, rough voice said, “Don’t bother. I know you’re there, boy.”

He sat back down. Good. He’d been caught. Now they could kill him and it would be over.

She came out of the trees, covered head to toe in a gray robe, her face hidden. But he saw her walking stick, saw the power that emanated from it. He was doomed.