The dragon has been unleashed, and there will be blood.

With the evil dragon Tyrus freed and gaining power every day, Astrid and Kaden are running out of options to defeat him.

Their enemies are growing.

Their allies are turning.

Kaden’s lost his full dragon magic, and Astrid doesn’t know if hers will be strong enough. And when the unthinkable happens and their best chance at killing Tyrus is gone, they’ll be forced to seek help from their most dangerous foe, Nico.

If he doesn’t kill them first.

In this final book in the Legacy of Dragons series, the lines between friend and enemy are blurred, earth-shattering secrets are revealed, and the only certain thing is that the price for victory will have to be paid in blood…

Excerpt of Dragon Blood

Chapter One—Astrid

“And so, we induct you from guild members of Rochester University into the Rochester Convocation, and by extension the overarching Convocation of dragon-kin. Serve it as it served you, in life and, if necessary, through death.”

My head snaps up as the echo of the orator’s words fades from the guild rotunda. A small sea of heads all face the erected center stage, surrounded by the white columned fronts of the four different guild houses.

“If you would come up when called to receive both your graduation certificate, and induction certificate,” the orator went on. “Quinn Bransley…”

I lean over to Kaden, having to stand on my tiptoes to get past his broad shoulders and to his ear. The wisps of his dirty blond hair—in desperate need of a cut, I keep telling him, though secretly I think it looks good—tickles my nose. “Is it just me, or does the ‘through death’ part sound a little…extreme?”

He shrugs, smirking. The movement stretches the hooked scar around his chin and line of unshaven stubble there. I get a full hit of sea-green eyes as he glances over. “You’re asking me about Convocation protocol?”

I snort, earning a raised eyebrow and thin frown from Councilwoman Breta, one of the couple members of the Rochester Convocation council attending the ceremony. The ones who haven’t already been called away.

“Maybe it is extreme,” Kaden continues in an even lower whisper. “But it’s not so extreme anymore.”

A chill runs through me as the orator says, “Terrence Barlow.”

Terrence, leader of the Dracas guild, steps up to the stage. For once he’s changed out of his typical rugby shirt and tied his blonde hair back. The muscles in his forearms clench as he shakes hands with the woman handing out the diplomas, then steps off stage.

“Jami Velle. Callie Udowen.”

My stomach clenches further as Jami, red sash secured across her silver pixie haircut, guided by her wind magic, steps confidently up next, followed by Callie. Callie’s the only one who doesn’t look happy about this entire thing. With her nose piercing glinting, tanned arms crossed defiantly in front of her, she is by far the most opposed to what they’re doing, and I know why.

“They’re shoving us through as fast as possible,” she’d griped a few hours before, while Jami tried to shush her and attempted to make her look “at least somewhat presentable” (her words). “It isn’t just Tyrus they’re worried about. They’re not even worried about the Slayers anymore, though they should be. It’s these cultist creeps are cropping up everywhere and the entire Convocation’s on edge for where Tyrus might appear next. They need more bodies to throw at the problem in case things get out of hand.”

With Jami pestering her she’d at last relented and allowed herself to be sat in front of Jami’s vanity, letting the other girl’s wind magic tousle her hair while Jami herself felt around to pin it in place.

“I’m a freaking political science major,” Cali continued. “The only thing I should be fighting is where to find a job that major actually applies to.”

I bite my lip as Jami, still scowling, snatches her diploma out of the orator’s hands and stalks off stage.

“She’ll be fine,” Yuki whispers beside me. My dragon-kin Tamer looks like she should be up on the stage right now, her straight black hair and moonlight skin as perfect as a runway model, as always. “There’s no guarantee they’ll be in any danger.”

“And they all have training. Enough to see them through okay,” Kaden says on my other side.

“They’ll see fighting if Tyrus attacks,” I say. “And no amount of training will help if he does.” My fingers clench the hem of my shirt. “Kaden and I couldn’t give him so much as a scratch. What chance do they have?”

“None,” Yuki says unhelpfully. “But there’s an even bigger chance they’ll never run into him. No one’s seen him for a month.” She cocks an eyebrow. “Let’s be honest, if Tyrus is going to attack anyone, it’s going to be you two. You’re the biggest threat.”

“Not much of a threat,” Kaden says, disgruntled.

“Still, bigger than any other.”

This time it’s Kaden’s chance to squeeze his fist. I take his hand and let him squeeze that instead. He relaxes a little.

“Next time I see that golden-winged bastard I’ll be sure to—”

Councilwoman Breta loudly clears her throat. Her stabbing glare is more than obvious: Keep quiet.

“We’ll talk later,” I whisper as the orator calls up another of my friends.

                                                ***

I always thought of the Dankana guild as the stuck-up jerks, more concerned with status and claiming strong members than in actually helping their fellow guilds. But their leader, Luke, has grown on me.

And I have to admit, they throw pretty sweet parties.

The music throbs under my feet, almost too loud to talk over, as I wend my way through the crush of people to grab another drink from the kitchen. A girl throws streamers in my hair and someone hanging over the second-floor railing uses magic to push confetti across the living room. People cheer. Quinn, Luke’s second-in-command, hollers, “No magic! You know the rules. And just because we’re leaving you slobs behind doesn’t mean we won’t make you clean all this up!”

“Clean up!” someone starts chanting, and soon the entire group has joined in, “Clean up, clean up!” before lifting Quinn onto their shoulders and crowd surfing him into another room, where I’m sure he’ll be convinced to lighten up.

I snag a drink and nearly bump into Terrence. He’s leaned against the counter and stuffing a pastry they’d catered from my all-time favorite bakery, Croissant Moon Café. I’d already gorged myself on more than my weekly allowance of sweets.

“Astrid!” Terrence crows, one massive arm wrapping me into a side hug. “Not going too crazy, I hope?”

“Oh you know me.” I lift my cup of soda. “Wild as always.”

Terrence laughs then gestures to a familiar girl close at his side. “You remember Emersyn, don’t you?”

“I hope she would,” Emersyn says, giving me a watery smile. She’s wearing a turtleneck pulled up to her chin and her nose is bright red. “We were technically competing against each other in the Games.”

“From the Montreal Institute, I remember,” I say, and Emersyn beams.

“That’s right! I’m afraid I didn’t make much of an impression since I didn’t technically compete. We left that all to…”

She cuts off, eyes flicking to Terrence whose puppy dog-like smile has withered. “Never mind.”

“It’s okay, Emersyn, seriously,” Terrence says. “Isabella and I were together for a time but that’s past.”

“We had no idea who she really was or who she was working for,” Emersyn lets out in a single breath, as though she’s been holding the apology in since the end of the Games. “When they told us that she and Rhoan, what they were planning…”

“Seriously.” Terrence’s grin is back, but it’s brittle. “It’s all good. Nobody’s heard from her and that’s for the best.”

Best not just for Terrence, but for all of us. Isabella hadn’t just betrayed Terrence, me, and Kaden when she’d led us into the Dragon’s Breath and brought us to Rhoan so we could free Tyrus. She’d betrayed the entire Convocation. Though at the time she, like Kaden and I, believed Tyrus had been on the Convocation’s side, her uncle Rhoan had certainly known better.

Part of me wants to forgive her, and if I ever see her again maybe I will. Part of me doesn’t want to let the past go, not for hurting my friend and helping free the biggest threat the Convocation’s faced in years.

But I guess if that’s what I’m blaming her for, then I should hate myself just as much.

“Are you here for the graduation?” I asked Emersyn, dragging the conversation out of dangerous territory.

“Terrence invited me.” Emersyn beams. Emersyn latches onto his arm and plants a kiss on his cheek. “Although I wasn’t subtle about him asking me to. We got to know each other pretty well at the Games.”

“Only after I took the hint,” Terrence says. “We can thank Callie for that.”

“Speaking of which, where is she?” I say. “I don’t think I’ve heard enough gripes about the Convocation today.”

Terrence gestures vaguely through the crowd in the direction of one of the back rooms. “Thataway.”

“I’ll leave you to it, then,” I say as Emersyn cuddles closer to Terrence.

He catches my arm before I walk away. “You okay? Really?”

I know exactly what he’s talking about. No amount of pretending we’re doing fine can mask that. Even still, I manage a smile. Terrence has started to find some happiness after heartbreak. And tonight’s a night for celebration. I’m not going to sour that.

“Doing great.” I jerk my chin at Emersyn. “I’m happy for you. Seriously. Have fun.”

“Thanks, Astrid. We’ll be okay, I promise.”

I only wish he could promise that.

I thread through the rest of the crowd. I’ve nearly broken through when I spy Luke alone in the backyard. He’s leaning against the wall, swirling his drink while staring into the explosive red and orange of the winter sunset.

I step outside and close the sliding glass door, cutting off most of the riotous noise. Luke glances at me as I stand beside him, his blond hair swishing at the movement.

“You should be celebrating,” I say. “You’ve worked hard to graduate.”

“Can you? I mean, really, after what’s happened?”

“I have to try. Even if I want to…” I swallow the bitter rage and blame I’ve directed at myself for the past month. “No amount of moping about it’s going to help her.”

Anger flashed in Luke’s eyes. “I’m not moping, and neither are you. We lost Holly and if you think for a second—”

“I know,” I snap. “Don’t you think I’ve tried? I’m still trying. The nights I’ve sat up wondering what I could have done different. I trusted her to be all right, and…and…”

I stare down at my hand, remembering how I’d reached for the door Uqit had conjured to other planes of reality, right before the door had collapsed into dust. Holly had been on one of those planes when Tyrus had broken free, undergoing something called the Trial of Thorns that was supposed to better connect her to the oracle that’d taken residence in her body. I have no idea whether or not she finished the Trial. We haven’t heard anything from her since. No sign that she was even alive.

“I’m not going to pretend to have the kind of history you and her do,” Luke said, voice soft. “You’ve known her for most of your life, and I’m just the jerk who was lucky enough to get her to like me. But believe me when I say I cared—care—about her. So, so much.”

“I know. Trust me, I know.”

“Be honest—and don’t lie just to make me feel better—what’s the chance she’s actually coming back?”

That’s the question I’ve asked myself every hour of every day since we’d been forced to flee Yellowstone with Tyrus hot on our trail. What if I’d stayed and tried to fight for a way to open the door again? What if I kept pushing my Aunt Carolyn, the past oracle, to keep searching? What if I’d stopped Holly from undergoing the Trial? What if, what if, what if?

“I don’t know much about the alternate planes,” I admit. “Randy’s told me there are a lot, far more than even he’s traveled. But Uqit is with her, and as a Palduca she can traverse the planes. I have to believe she’ll take care of Holly and they’ll both be okay.”

Luke takes a long sip of his drink, staring at the fence of the backyard. “I do, too.”

He glances back inside when some loud voices raise above the rest. A guy I’ve never seen, face flushed, is gesturing and talking loudly with other people. Terrence, scowling, is coming over to calm him down.

“Don’t tell the others in Dracas about this,” Luke says, “but I have some sway with the Convocation, you know that.”

“You mean you’re their golden boy so they’re more likely to listen to you when they mostly ignore everyone else.”

“Exactly. Like I said, don’t tell the others in Dracas, but I’m going to talk to those assigning the new initiates into the Convocation. Quinn, Terrence, me and others, we’ve all been training for combat. Most of us have been in actual combat and come out okay. I’m gonna ask to be put in the more dangerous areas, the ones more likely to be hit by Tyrus whenever he’s at full strength. Callie, Jami, Isaac, the rest who haven’t trained a lot and never wanted to, I should be able to get them stationed away from danger.” He snorts. “In this day and age there’s no guarantee, but—”

He startles as I throw my arms around him, before pulling back, surprised at my own affection toward the guy I’d held a dislike for since almost the second I’d met him. “Thank you, Luke. Seriously, you have no idea what that means.”

“No guarantees, remember?”

“Still, it’s better than nothin—”

The voices from inside increase, loud enough that I can almost hear them clearly through the sliding glass door. Terrence has reached the flush-faced partygoer, who’s loudly saying something to a crowd of similarly flushed, yet still embarrassed-looking attendees. Terrence puts a thick hand on his shoulder and says something sharply in his ear. The guy throws him off, continuing to rant.

Luke’s eyes have narrowed. “What’s this idiot blathering about?”

“Is he from your guild?”

“Absolutely not. Don’t recognize him from any of the others as well. He’s probably from the Convocation, a guest someone else invited. If he was part of my guild you can bet there’d be consequences.”

I pull open the sliding door and the heat and noise of the party rushes over me.

“—just saying, like, everyone thinks it’s such a bad thing. But has anyone actually seen him? Talked to him? We’re all making snap judgements on what he’s like without knowing. I mean, dragon-kin, they’re like part of him, right?”

I know exactly who he’s talking about even before his slobbery gaze hits me and his face lights up with something like recognition. He points a sloshing drink toward me. “You! You know what I’m saying, right? It’s a dragon, like a real true dragon! That’s good, that’s really good, but everyone here is too scared to actually ask him for help. We’ve all been scared of Slayers for so long and now a dragon shows up and we’re all like…”

He pantomimes waving his arms around as though running from some invisible threat, sloshing his drink even more. Terrence and now others try to grab him again but he’s slippery.

“You and that Kaden guy have seen him,” the guy continues. “You should join him, you’re the same as him.”

“No,” Kaden’s hard voice says beside me. He’s slipped through the ever-quieting crowd. “We’re not anything like him.”

“But you’re dragons. The dragon-kin are part dragons. And if part dragons find an actual dragon…” He lets the sentence hang. “I’m just saying, I think people are freaking out for no reason. We should be reaching out, aligning ourselves with him.”

“If you want to die, go ahead,” Kaden says.

The guy scoffs. “Aren’t you two the ones who freed him?”

I tense as more than a few in the crowd look our way. Surprised, curious, wary. Kaden and I hadn’t kept our involvement in helping free Tyrus a secret. Councilwoman Breta had asked us more than once why we’d done it, and the answer was simple: we were tricked. That isn’t an excuse. Isn’t even something I accept myself, but it’s true. Tricked and, like this guy, we wanted to believe that a true dragon would be on our side and stop the Slayers from ever hurting us again.

I hold up my left arm. Right below my wrist is a small, shiny scar where Rhoan nicked me with his knife and dropped my blood into the bowl, one of the three components he’d needed to break the seal holding Tyrus. It was a small cut, and I’ve had much worse, but this one stayed and scarred. In some ways I’m grateful for that. Though others may have let me off the hook, my body will always remember.

“We did free Tyrus,” I say loudly. “And he immediately murdered about a half dozen people with a single breath. Turned them into charred corpses.”

Those around me stiffen in horror. The guy I’m looking at merely raises an eyebrow. “They probably deserved it. I’m just saying, instead of sending people who can’t or don’t want to fight, we should talk to him again and—”

“Enough,” Luke says firmly.

Terrence finally grabs the guy’s upper arm in a grip hard enough to make him wince. His drink splashes as both Terrence and Luke pull him out of the living room and to the foyer, hopefully to get him out of here for good.

Those around us don’t stop staring at me. I’m not sure if it’s because they’re finally realizing that a part of why we’re in this predicament is because of the two people standing in front of them, or because they know just how much danger they’re truly in, and that some of them will be the ones to face it head on.

I’m not sure which is worse.

“What are we doing? Let’s turn this music up!” Callie bellows from the second-floor. It takes a long few seconds, but eventually the music and conversation returns, and the heavy stares of most everyone around us goes away. I give Callie a grateful nod and she returns it.

“You okay?” Kaden asks me, hand on my back.

“I’m good,” I say.

“He’s wrong, you know. We can’t blame ourselves for how Tyrus got free.”

I look at him, brow furrowing. “Of course we can. Kaden, it was our blood, blood of a full dragon, or as close to one as Rhoan could find, that helped free him.”

“It was. And we were also tricked not just by Rhoan, but by Tyrus, a being powerful enough to have existed for centuries, who countless others have been unable to stop or been tricked by. If it wasn’t us, Rhoan probably would have found some other gullible idiots like us to do it.”

He grins, but I don’t find it all that funny. Maybe Rhoan would have, or maybe Tyrus would still be trapped beneath the earth and we would all be relatively safe.

“Don’t,” Kaden says firmly. He steps closer, immediately warming me up as he draws me toward the wall and swallows the space between us. “Don’t go down that ‘if I’d only done better’, ‘if I could only have been perfect’ path.”

“That was always your thing,” I mutter. “I distinctly remember you whining more than a few times that you hadn’t been able to pull off the impossible.”

He smirks. “I prefer the term ‘lamenting’. And who was it that taught me to work through that?”

I tilt my chin up and he kisses me slow, gently, so far from the hot, almost feverish passion we’ve only gotten small doses of since returning from Yellowstone. I kiss him again, not caring that there are dozens of other people around. I need this, to be close to him, need the support of one of the few other people who truly understands what I’ve gone through.

But just as I kiss him a third time an awkward cough breaks us apart. Kaden glares back at Terrence who’s looking uncomfortably at us. “Really?”

“I wouldn’t do it if I didn’t have to, trust me.” He jerks his head back toward the front door. “Some people from the Convocation came by to talk with the guy who was making a scene. But they want to—”

“Kaden Sullivan? Astrid Michaels?”

And just like that, the surrounding partygoers break off as two uniformed members from the Convocation slide through them.

“Is something wrong?” I say.

The one on the right motions for us to follow. “Come with us. We need to speak to you urgently.”