Chapter 27 The Mind-Eater
SERINA POV
"Hello, Serina Ashwell. I'm the dragon your vessel left to die a thousand years ago. And I've come to collect what he owes me."
Xyroth smiled. "His life. Your body. And every awakening soul on this continent, burning as payment for his cowardice."
Behind him, four massive dragons blocked every exit.
Kaelthar! I screamed into our bond. WAKE UP!
Silence. He was still dormant, scattered across our connection, too broken to respond.
"He can't hear you," Xyroth said pleasantly, taking a step forward. "I made sure of that. The moment you broke the Ley Lines, I sent a psychic pulse through your bond. He's trapped in his own memories now, reliving every failure. Exquisite torture, really."
"You're his brother," I said, buying time while refugees fled through a back exit. "Why would you—"
"Brother?" Xyroth laughed, bitter and cold. "Yes, once. Before he left me to be captured. Before he chose his precious vengeance over saving me. Before a thousand years of Council experiments turned me into this."
He gestured at himself—human form barely containing the dragon consciousness underneath.
"The Council broke me, Serina. Shattered my mind so thoroughly that controlling other dragons became the only way I could remember who I was. And you know the beautiful irony? Kaelthar's imprisonment was merciful compared to what they did to me."
Behind me, Tym was hyperventilating. Arvain had his blade drawn but looked terrified—we all were. Four dragons plus Xyroth against a warehouse full of refugees and resistance fighters with no real power.
We were dead.
"What do you want?" I asked, still stalling.
"I already told you. Your body. It's bonded to my dear brother, which means I can use it to destroy him completely. Once I possess you, I'll have access to every fragment of Kaelthar's consciousness. I'll consume them one by one while he screams."
"That's—" I tried to think of a word adequate for the horror of it. "That's sick."
"That's justice." Xyroth's smile widened. "He abandoned me to this. Now he gets to experience it himself. And once he's gone, I'll use your body to hunt down every awakening human on the continent. Payment for the Council's crimes against dragonkind."
"The awakening humans didn't hurt you!" Tym shouted. "The Council did!"
"The Council is already destroying itself." Xyroth shrugged. "Where's the satisfaction in that? No, I want to hurt what Kaelthar cares about. And apparently—" his golden eyes fixed on me, "—he's developed an unfortunate attachment to you."
Through our bond, I felt something stir. Not Kaelthar waking, but his unconscious reaction to Xyroth's presence. Even dormant, even shattered, some part of him recognized his brother.
And was absolutely terrified.
"Last chance," Xyroth said. "Surrender your body willingly, and I'll kill everyone here quickly. Resist, and I'll make them suffer for hours before I take you anyway."
"There's a third option," I said.
"Oh?"
"I stab you in the face and run."
I didn't have Kaelthar's power. Didn't have dragon fire or enhanced strength. But I had years of survival instincts from living in the slums.
I threw a knife—not at Xyroth, but at the support beam beside him. The blade struck exactly where I'd aimed, triggering Maren's explosive trap.
The warehouse's front wall collapsed.
"RUN!" I screamed.
Chaos erupted. Refugees fled through back exits while resistance fighters engaged the dragons in desperate holding actions. Arvain was shouting orders, coordinating evacuation.
I ran toward Tym, grabbing his hand. "We need to—"
Xyroth appeared in front of me.
Not walking. Not running. Just there, moving faster than physics should allow.
"Clever," he said, not even winded. "But futile."
He grabbed my throat, lifting me off the ground. His grip was iron, crushing my windpipe.
"TYM, RUN!" I gasped.
My brother stood frozen, glowing with power but too young, too untrained to know what to do with it.
"Actually," Xyroth said conversationally, "the boy stays. I'll need him to wake the other imprisoned dragons. His beacon power makes him useful."
"Don't... touch... him..." I choked out.
"Or what? You'll unleash your dragon?" Xyroth laughed. "He's catatonic, Serina. Trapped in memories of the Great Betrayal, reliving his mate's death over and over. He's not coming to save you."
Stars exploded across my vision. I was dying, and Kaelthar was—
Not. Catatonic.
The thought came from deep in our bond. Not Kaelthar's voice exactly. Something smaller. The fragment of him that had reformed after scattering.
I'm here, the whisper said. Weak. Broken. But here. And Serina? I'm so sorry. For manipulating you. For using you. For bringing you into my family's thousand-year-old nightmare.
Save it for later, I thought back desperately. Right now, I need help not dying.
I can't fight him. I'm too weak. But maybe... maybe I can give you something else.
Warmth flooded through our bond. Not power. Not strength. Just... knowledge.
Xyroth's weaknesses. His trauma. Every moment from their shared childhood when Kaelthar had protected his younger brother. Every promise he'd broken when he chose vengeance over rescue.
Every regret that had haunted him for a thousand years.
Use this, Kaelthar whispered. Use our history against him. It's all I have left to give.
My vision was fading. Seconds from unconsciousness.
I looked at Xyroth—at the ancient, broken dragon wearing human skin—and saw what Kaelthar had shown me. Saw the younger brother who'd looked up to him. The partnership they'd had before betrayal destroyed everything.
"Xyroth," I gasped through his choking grip. "Kaelthar never... stopped looking... for you."
His grip loosened slightly. "What?"
"After the betrayal. After his imprisonment. Every moment... of consciousness... he was searching." The words came from Kaelthar's memories, flowing through our bond. "Searching for any sign... you'd survived. Because leaving you... broke him worse... than losing his mate."
"You're lying."
"Check our bond yourself. See his memories. See how many times... he screamed your name... in that cage. How he begged Valdric... to tell him if you lived."
Xyroth's eyes narrowed. Then widened as he reached into my mind through the bond, seeing Kaelthar's fractured consciousness. Seeing a thousand years of guilt and grief.
Seeing the truth.
His grip went slack. I collapsed, gasping.
"He thought I was dead," Xyroth whispered. "All this time... he thought I died in the betrayal."
"Yes," I croaked. "And you've been... torturing yourself... thinking he abandoned you. When really... you both just... assumed the worst."
Xyroth stared at his hands. At the four dragons he'd been controlling. At the warehouse full of terrified refugees he'd been about to slaughter.
"What have I done?" he breathed.
"What pain makes everyone do," I said, climbing to my feet. "Hurt others before they can hurt you. But it doesn't have to—"
A blade erupted from Xyroth's chest.
He gasped, looking down in shock.
Behind him stood Nox—Nyx's twin sister, holding a blade dripping with dragon blood.
"Touching reunion," Nox said coldly. "But the Council's paying me to make sure all dragons die. Nothing personal."
She twisted the blade.
Xyroth screamed—not in pain, but in fury. The four dragons he'd been controlling went berserk, attacking everything in sight without direction.
"NO!" I shouted, but it was too late.
One dragon's tail smashed through the warehouse wall. Another breathed fire indiscriminately. The third grabbed fleeing refugees in its jaws.
Absolute chaos.
And Xyroth was dying, which meant his control was gone, which meant four insane dragons were now attacking friend and foe alike.
"Nox, what did you DO?" Nyx appeared, horror-struck at their twin's actions.
"What I was paid to do." Nox pulled the blade free. "The Council wants all dragons dead and the revolution crushed. This accomplishes both."
She vanished in shadow magic before anyone could stop her.
Xyroth collapsed. I caught him, his blood—gold like Kaelthar's—soaking through my clothes.
"I'm sorry," he gasped, looking at me with Kaelthar's eyes. "Tell my brother... I understand now. Tell him... it wasn't his fault."
"Tell him yourself!" I pressed my hands against the wound uselessly. "You can't die. We just found you. Kaelthar deserves—"
"Kaelthar deserves peace." Xyroth smiled weakly. "Take care of him. He's terrible at taking care of himself."
His eyes closed.
And through our bond, I felt Kaelthar wake up screaming.
NO! NO, NOT AGAIN! NOT XYROTH AGAIN!
"He's still alive!" I shouted to the broken consciousness in my mind. "Kaelthar, he's dying but not dead. Help me save him!"
I can't. I'm too weak. Unless...
"Unless what?"
Unless we complete the contract. Give me access to your full lifeforce. I can save him, but Serina—it will burn you out. You'll survive, but you'll lose years. Maybe decades. Age faster. Die younger.
Around us, dragons were destroying everything. Refugees were dying. Tym was trying to use his power to calm the dragons but failing—they were too far gone.
And Xyroth—Kaelthar's brother, the key to maybe healing a thousand-year-old wound—was bleeding out in my arms.
"Do it," I said. "Save him."
Serina—
"That's an order. Save your brother."
Golden fire exploded from my body as Kaelthar seized control, flooding Xyroth with healing magic that burned through my lifeforce like kindling.
I felt myself aging. Felt years being stripped away. Felt my body breaking down to fuel the magic keeping Xyroth alive.
But it worked.
Xyroth's wound sealed. His eyes opened.
"You saved me," he whispered in wonder.
"Family saves family," I said simply, even as gray streaks appeared in my hair.
Then one of the berserk dragons' tails smashed into me, and the world went black.
I woke to Arvain's voice screaming my name and four dragons descending for the kill.