Burn (Dragon Souls #2): Dragon Souls
Author: Fletcher, Penelope
Date: 2014-08-15 02:17:41+00:00
Keywords: Fantasy Romance; dragon romance; Paranormal Romance; shapeshifter romance
Description: Deadly power lurks beneath Marina's skin, wildness, a magical creature born of fire and ice. Crossing dimensions to the Dragon Lands where she is a Princess and descendant from a powerful Phoenix, Marina has chosen to enter the tournament Aver to win the Frost Wreath. She must conquer four savage quests to be crowned Queen of the Ice Realm and win the right to hunt her mate, Dragon King Koen Raad. Assassination attempts, a growing darkness in her adopted son, and the bloodthirsty quests of Aver itself. Marina's chances of survival grow dimmer by the day.
Publisher: Stephenson & Fletcher

Burn

Dragon Souls, Volume 2

by Penelope Fletcher

Published by Penelope Fletcher, 2014.

This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

BURN

First edition. January 18, 2014.

Copyright © 2014 Penelope Fletcher.

Written by Penelope Fletcher.

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

Table of Contents

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

CHAPTER THIRTY

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

EPILOGUE

PROLOGUE

“I cannot let you do this. Koen will kill me.”

“I’m going to kill you if you don’t help me. I need you to do up my laces, I can’t afford for my cuirass to fall off. I’d be too exposed.”

“You cannot go out there.”

“Why not? It was always dangerous. I just have to be more careful.”

“You will not last five minutes without–”

“If anything can hit me so easily, I have no business being out there. You taught me that.”

Marina slid her helm onto her head. The light steel covered the entire back of her head, narrowing to a blunted point at the nape of her neck, but the front was a heart shape around her face, covering her brow, nose, and part of her cheeks. A high crest of black hair ran down the centre of the burnished metal, and trailed down to the small of her back.

Shield in hand, he faced Daniil like the warrior she was. “You told me I had the potential to be one of the most gifted Chosen you’ve ever seen. Was that a lie?”

“No.”

“Then help me or get the fuck out of my way.”

“You will die.”

“Daniil, I’ve always been prepared I might not make it through this. I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t willing to risk everything. I’ve always known you believed I didn’t realise the seriousness of my decision to enter Aver, but I did. I understood you, but you never really understood me. I’ve made up my mind. I am doing this. That’s all there is to it.”

Grunting his disapproval, Daniil tugged on her shield to make sure she held it secure. He wasn’t satisfied with her cuirass, so he unlaced it, and began retying it.

On the first yank, Marina felt her body straighten and the air forced from her lungs. She wiggled left to right to make sure she could move. She breathed in and out deeply.

“Stay nimble on your feet,” Daniil instructed. “Do not freeze. Let the fear take hold and you are dead. Do you understand? Keep moving. The leather will protect you in near misses, but it will not deflect a direct blow.” He finished tightening the laces. “What can no beast do unless you want it to?”

“Touch me.”

“Good.” He leaned closer so his face hovered beside hers. “Why are you here?” She turned to him in confusion, but he knocked the side of her helm. “Stay focused. Answer me. Why do you stand here?”

“To be with Koen Raad.”

“What are you?”

“A Dragon mate,” she replied fiercely.

“What is Koen?”

“A Dragon. King of Dragons.”

“Anastasia is stronger than you. She is faster and has infallible battle instinct. She has trained for this moment since she was born, and she wants to be Empress more than the air she breathes. She has already completed this quest. Why do you think you have a chance at beating her?”

Marina scowled, narrowed her eyes. “Because I’m not here for the throne. It’s a responsibility I will shoulder to keep my prize.”

“Marina, why do you stand here?”

“For Koen. Yes, Anastasia has me beat in every skill in every way, but that doesn’t matter right now. There is one thing I have that she doesn’t, and will never have, the love of Koen Raad. She will not be the one to take him from me. Koen was born a King with a creature of power inside him. He was born to lead. The woman who owns his heart cannot be weak. She must be fierce. She must defeat all others, and stand tall in the face of danger. She must be willing to lay down her life for his safety. She must love him, and honour him until her last breath. She must cherish him, and give him strong sons and daughters to carry his name. I am that woman. I’m not the greatest swordswomen ever. I am not exceptionally smart, or witty, or charming. I have no great beauty. What I have is a deep and abiding love for my Dragon. Nobody will ever love anybody as much as I do him. Ever. I will never fail him.”

Marina snapped her mouth shut, knowing she had already said too much because everyone had gone silent, and was staring at her like she was insane. Flushing, she ducked her head and kept telling herself she could win, psyching herself up.

Her heart raced as she heard the chains moving, pulling the gate up.

Wolves howled, the sound long and low, causing chills to ripple up and down her spine.

Was it her or did they sound hungry?

Large shadows ghosted past the gate.

“Daniil,” she said in an odd voice. “How large are the wolves exactly?”

“Larger than the ones you have on Earth.”

Marina struggled to control the fear. She held onto her composure with her fingernails, but she held it.

“Whatever is out there,” she said quietly. “I will defeat it.”

The horn blared, and the crowd screamed in excitement. The very walls trembled.

Daniil placed a cool palm on her shoulder. “Do not fail him,” he whispered.

Slamming her visor down, she blinked in disbelief when the portcullis was raised fully. Was this real? Taking a deep breath, rolling her shoulders, Marina thought of Koen Raad, and ran out into blood and chaos.

CHAPTER ONE

Wolves. Yellow-eyed, fanged wolves double Marina’s size snapped at her heels, lunged from each direction she swerved.

Forced inside a crack bisecting the arena rampart, her legs turned to water. Back to the wall, she sank to the ground. She leaned the heavy shield against her knees and set her spear over the top. It jutted out to impale anything that might squeeze in to get at her.

They laughed. The people of the Dragon Lands – an Empire she once hoped to rule in the dimension she made her home – laughed at her.

Clutching her chest, she begged her heart to slow. It pounded against her breastbone until she worried she’d look down and see blood. The dull pain it caused was distracting. Her ragged, shallow breathing reflected the suffering of her body.

Squeezing her eyes shut, Marina lowered her head.

Breathe. If you fall to pieces, it’s over. Get up.

Scrubbing her damp face, Marina listened.

Pack animals paced outside. Growling, their heavy pants eager and quick. The wolves stank. The pungent stench of rotting death made her gag. Stocky bodies smashed into the rock, and as they clawed the opening to get her, their ear-grating howls sent a very rational fear straight to the heart of her.

Disregarding thoughts of her bloody end should they sink their teeth into her, Marina shoved through the mind-numbing panic and dredged up her training.

Endless lessons and advice Daniil spent weeks hammering down her overconfident throat flooded her mind.

She peeked over her shield to see out the crevice.

Wild eyes blinked back at her – hungry eyes.

Marina shrank back, gasped when an inner presence, an otherness stirred. It woke with a ferocious growl. A surge of fury at being so helpless had her hands curling into fists, and her mind racing for a solution to her entrapment.

She was a hunter not the hunted.

Panting, Marina tried to focus. She shoved the strange feeling into the corner of her awareness and considered her options.

She missed everything when she ran from under the portcullis. Hoarfrost spewed at her and she bolted, suddenly convinced she’d made a stupid mistake thinking she could so this. She had no idea where the wild dragon was – no idea what the terrain looked like.

Find high ground.

She started. That time the voice was louder. A sense of irritation had her skin pulling taught.

Rubbing her temples, she ignored the voice.

Most pressing was how to get out of the tiny hole she had wedged herself into. A plan to run past the wolves and go from there was all she had. Run past the wolves and hope they didn’t bite her head off.

Trembling, she swallowed convulsively.

Marina imagined what Koen Raad’s reaction would be if he watched her frozen body shatter.

He would kill them all.

No one was coming to help her. Staying hidden would mean being declared a loser. The future she planned for was at stake.

The wolves trying to scratch her free moved back.

An opening.

Lurching onto her feet, shield at her back and spear in hand, Marina shot out of the crevice. Fur brushed her arm. Catching the wolves unaware she made it past them. Stunned it worked she kept running.

Her eyes swept side to side as she took in her surroundings. She made a hard turn. A wolf rushed past missing her by scant inches.

Do not look behind you.

She looked.

Chills raked down her spine. She ran faster. Terror dropkicked her gut, and she pivoted, this time with purpose.

The ice wolves bore down on her in a cluster of mottled fur sticky with blood. Razor-like teeth as long as her fingers flashed in the failing light.

Marina sprinted to a rocky island and leaped onto the squat cropping of rock. Relying on the strength of her thighs, she took bounding steps until the muscles ached with a deep burn that turned them to jelly when she slowed.

As she climbed, she tried to calm her breathing.

Panic and you are finished.

Reaching the summit, she yelled and spun ready for the attack. All clear. The wolves scrambled to reach her, but had not yet crested the rocky pinnacle.

Marina’s chest heaved. Dry lips curved in grim satisfaction and dark brown eyes narrowed in feral glee. We did it. The otherness uncoiled and stretched lazily, bloated with smugness. She ignored it. After all, she held the high ground, a small victory in itself.

A smaller, nimbler wolf dragged itself over the ledge and lunged.

Primordial survival instinct flared. Her thundering heart slowed. She moved. Jerking to the side her leg slid out to lower her body. She speared the diving wolf through its eye. The collision made her body shudder, but her arm was steady, her form perfect.

Marina’s gaze dropped.

Guilt pieced her heart with thorns.

The wolf was female. It whimpered, legs folding, glowing eyes fading into flat amber orbs.

Prey, the otherness whispered.

Prey was to be devoured not mourned.

Determination renewed Marina’s poise. She yanked the spear from the wolf carcass. Arm raised, she set the neck of the spear onto the smoothed groove on the shield’s outer edge and took up a battle stance.

Panting in great gulps, another wolf appeared.

The larger beast sniffed its fallen pack female, snarled then threw back its furred muzzle in a howl.

Shaking, it coughed, and its dark grey throat bloated.

Marina rolled as hoarfrost spewed from its gaping maw in a glistening arc.

Licking its chops, the wolf launched itself into the air. Tongue lolling and dripping icy saliva it landed on the cracked puddle of ice. The glacial rock shattered into splinters beneath its paws.

Uneasy now, Marina backed away keeping the salivating wolf dead in her sights. Lightning fast, her gaze slid to the side and noted the remaining wolves hadn’t bothered climbing. Her focus snapped back to the present danger stalking her.

Her knees bent and she tensed. Her shield felt heavy, cumbersome, but she was confident, her spear arm steady, and in the right headspace to begin an attack of her own.

A noise reached her ears and she hesitated, eyes rounded in wonder.

Dragon whimpers.

Chained to the ground on the other side of the rocks her prize awaited.

The captured dragoness craned her serpentine neck to look up. Its dark purple scales clinked as it quivered.

“I’m coming,” she whispered fiercely.

The wolf inched closer. Teeth snapped. Black claws flexed in anticipation of a meaty kill. The pungent stench wafting from its fur made her eyes water. These weren’t like the beautiful creatures in the human dimension. These beasts evolved to protect themselves from the dragons hunting the land, mutating into a misshapen perversion that frankly sacred the shit out her.

Marina kept up her guard, crouched, spear extended. Their greatest weapon was their frost.

Therefore, I need fire.

The otherness rose.

Energy trilled through her limbs and Marina’s body tensed. Chosen wield magick –Koen Raad told her that. She needed fire, knew the power to summon it was in her blood, but possessed no clue of how to conjure it. Control over the elements had not been part of her eleventh-hour training.

Frowning, shooting a frustrated look at the metal spear tip imagining fire, she felt stupid when nothing happened.

Primal heat ripped through her arm, and the delighting purring of the inner voice filled her ears.

Ripping, burning, slashing, biting.

The spear erupted into a single blue flame the width of the triangular tip.

Excitement at the achievement was fleeting.

She deserved some freaking flames.

The jeering crowed quieted then exploded into a roar of encouragement as she swung the blazing spear.

Marina used the lull in attack to slide off the rocks. The left side of her body was bruised and scraped, but she broke no bones as her soft leather boots hit the ground.

The wolves tracked her. They were intelligent, and had adapted to a better formation to bring her down.

She swayed from side to side, her twists quick and wild to watch them all.

You are not prey, the voice raged.

Sweating under the tension, Marina pretended to focus her attention on the wolf directly in front.

The flanking wolves took the bait. They lunged.

She dropped and rolled.

The wolves slammed into each other, furred bellies stretched as they pranced on powerful hunches, biting and growling, spittle flying.

Adjusting her footing, Marina mirrored her steps with the wolf chomping for her head.

It pounced.

She ducked and jabbed, a single thrust, a deadly extension of her arm.

The spear ripped through the animal’s gullet. Its own momentum pushed the blade deeper until the tip tore through the furry ruff at the back of its head.

The wolf collapsed on top of her.

She gasped.

Its weight was crushing.

“My god, you stink.”

Icy saliva and hot blood dribbled down the spear onto her arm. It burned – scalded her flesh until tears cleaned tracks down her grubby cheeks. It took all her might to push the dead weight off her body and wriggle free.

She rolled onto all fours then pushed onto her feet, bit her tongue to quell a cry of victory.

The remaining two wolves were locked in a furious struggle. It was best to keep them that way.

Limping to the dragoness, Marina dribbled the icy spit from her weapon onto an iron link. Sliding the spear tip through the narrow loop, a sharp twist of her wrist jarred it in such a way the weakened links chaining the dragoness broke.

Grumbling thanks, the dragoness’ tapered snout nudged between her shoulders. Snuffled the sweaty nape of her neck.

Checking the fighting wolves remained distracted, Marina allowed more of her focus to shift. She ran her good hand over the Dragon’s hide checking for injury.

“You’re not a fire breather, are you? Even so I could use your help.” Marina winced when her frost-burned arm ached. “Will you help me?”

The dragoness blinked violet eyes. She lowered her slender neck in invitation.

Using the hump of a foreleg, Marina climbed and settled onto the dragoness’ nape, clinging to rigid back scales for balance with her bad hand. The almost feverish heat rising from the creature’s body was soothing. It reminded her of riding Daniil, although this mount was smaller and less intimidating.

Rocking back then forward as the dragoness stood, Marina took stock of her situation. Her body ached but was in one piece. Her shield was unbroken and slung across her back. Her helm protected her head. She hefted her bloodied spear higher for examination then blanched at the damage the weapon received during the scuffle. Drips of hoarfrost had frozen the wood and turned the solid rod brittle.

“Don’t shatter.” She fixed her gaze on the remaining threat. “Just hold.”

Feeling the fierce determination of her rescuer, the dragoness reared. Bellowing a throaty roar, smoke plumes gushed from between her fangs.

Blowing smoke was all this breed of wild one could do, but it inspired Marina.

The slobbering wolves heeded the ferocious cry and separated. Nostrils flared as they stuck their muzzles in the air and sniffed. Growling and snapping at each other’s sides, they lowered their heads and prowled closer.

Gaze pinging between them, Marina hefted her spear. Unsure which was alpha she hesitated in picking a target.

Howling, the wolves drew further apart and their streaking forms accelerated into dark grey blurs.

Still undecided, breathless with indecision, she pulled back to angle her weapon.

The smaller wolf crouched, snarled, and lunged, sealing its fate.

Marina flung the spear, grunting when her side cramped.

The projectile found its mark. Shattered. Steel pierced the wolf’s furred chest and it dropped mid spring to land solid on its side. Claws scratched the dirt as it howled a death rattle.

The dragoness pounced. She clamped her fangs around the wolf’s neck and with a rough jerk snapped it. She spat gristle and snarled.

Answering cries of congratulations swelled from the crowd above.

The alpha wolf growled. Pack decimated, he was the last standing. He sensed his demise and with nothing to lose turned rabid. Frothing at the mouth, he paced erratically snapping at the dragoness’ underbelly.

Jumping aside to miss impalement on hooked talons, he hunkered down. The rigid tension in his body gave away his next move.

The wolf leapt.

Twisting, Marina swung the shield from across her back to protect her front. Fangs headed for her throat were useless as the beast’s head butted the shield, a hammered round of metal forged in the dragonfire of a Phoenix.

Flailing claws dug cruelly into her flesh, drenching the ground in blood as he slid from sight in a daze.

Screeching in pain, Marina let go of the scales anchoring her. She toppled off the dragoness as she tried to stop the gushing slashes on her thigh.

Her head rebounded off the uneven soil. Stars exploded behind her eyelids. She landed mostly on her tattered side and pain lanced her leg, the salted earth stinging the gouges.

Using her good hand, she lifted the shield to guard her vulnerable torso.

Disillusioned, scared out of her wits, she wanted to curl up and cry.

The otherness was disgusted. It bashed at the walls of her mind. Do not lie here waiting to die. Get up. Let me out, or get up. Her ears were ringing as it roared and hissed in its effort to take her over.

Gritting her teeth, scared when she tasted blood on her tongue, terrified when the otherness went predator-still in anticipation, Marina hobbled. Hopping on her good leg she kept the other bent at the knee.

The wolf shook off its haze. It rolled about on its back then twisted into its front, but remained low on its belly as it panted and sniffed.

Fresh blood marked her, and he howled his thirst for it as he charged.

Marina distantly heard someone bellow her name.

Feet planted shoulder-width-apart, Marina eased her balance onto her back leg. Warm blood oozed down her front foot. She ignored it.

Timing was everything.

She twisted at the middle when the wolf lunged.

Shrieking her fury, she threw her whole body into the motion of a swing.

The shield smashed into the side of the wolf’s head. The connection jarred Marina’s arms and broke two fingers when the leather strap jerked hard trying to escape her grasp.

Trajectory altered, the wolf sailed past, curled up, and crumpled under the blow.

Dragging her numb leg behind her, Marina steeled herself. She gazed stonily at the dusty heap with something else looking out through her eyes.

The otherness purred.

Kill it, or it kills you.

She used the animal’s injured bewilderment to perch the blunt edge of the shield on the crown of its head. Her arms lifted high then fell hard. Crunch. She bludgeoned the wolf until it convulsed then stopped moving altogether.

Awkwardly turning in a slow circle, she glared at the corpses littering the arena. Darkness crept along the edges of her vision.

Still, she relaxed. Nothing else tried to kill her.

Marina spun to the crowd that openly mocked her. Lifting the arm that did not feel afire, she ignored the pain and stuck up a crooked middle finger, shrieking a warrior cry, because she was so pissed at them.

The shocked silence of the arena resounded deeply.

Her yell carried until she had gasped hollowly and coughed. Her voice echoed richly off the rocky open-roofed amphitheatre.

The dragoness backed the wail of victory with a roar.

The crowd surged screaming back, chanting her name, and crying out for her. The noise was deafening. It battered the arena walls.

“Oh, so now you love me. Fickle bastards.”

Spent adrenaline left Marina shaky. Mouth dry, her stomach rolled queasily. She slumped as the strength left her in a rush.

The dented shield clattered to the floor.

Groaning, she clutched where her hip met thigh. She used the other to gingerly touch the lacerations scored into her flesh. Blood flowed thick through her fingers. What had her swaying feebly was the colour. She stared at her fingertips as the blood darkened to burgundy.

“How can I have blue blood? Ugh. I’m going to faint.”

She laughed weakly as the world blurred. The tension eased from her muscles and the ground rushed up to meet her.

CHAPTER TWO

Koen Raad was a dangerous male. Dragon King of the twelfth dynasty, he ruled his domain with an open hand ever ready to clench into an iron fist.

A wild aura gave the breadth of his shoulders and the lean muscle defining his body a disquieting edge of animal menace. To stand within his shadow was to know the truth. A beast lurked too close to the surface. It peered from behind emerald green eyes, terrified all who glimpsed its dark hunger. The barest sheen of civility cloaked his true nature.

Koen Raad was a predator surrounded by hapless prey.

Yet he watched in a heart-stopping haze of fury as his Treasure jogged from the bowels of the Red Citadel. She faced a pack of ice wolves wearing nothing but leather moulded to her torso. A helm covered her head and her weapon was of the finest craftsmanship, his, but he was outraged her tender flesh was so badly protected.

He spun, and encountered a bundle of repressed emotion crouched on the seat beside him.

Furious protest died on his lips. He wasn’t the only one who suffered.

Boy was pale. His lips were white with strain, yet the fire banked within his gaze spoke of an unwavering confidence in his adoptive mother.

The adolescent appeared more a princeling each day.

Koen swept a glance over his richly stitched tunic, black leathers, and knee-high boots.

Marina still had not shorn the fat spirals tumbling around his too beautiful face. His Treasure admitted adoring the curls far too much to cut.

Boy smirked when he noticed his King eyeing them with contempt. He would never cut them knowing his Marina loved them so.

The youngling was too pretty by far. The hair just made it worse.

A battle scar or two should fix that, Koen thought, deciding to singe the hair from Boy’s head the next time he caught the youngling alone while in dragonskin.

Despite her obsession with his gold locks, Marina had done well with Boy. There was a scruffy edge to his manner and a roughness to his speech ever naming him as base born, but Koen knew Marina cared less for Boy’s slave origins than she did for what the other Houses thought of her for making him their offspring.

Goddess knew what they would say if they knew the youngling began his life slitting throats his masters placed under his blade. That he had once snuck into the High Princess’ room with the intent of spilling her blood.

There were moments of rage when Koen thought of what this youngling – now his offspring – had almost done to his beloved. As much anger as he felt it was always followed by mind-numbing pride that was fatherly and pure.

During the assassination attempt Boy had hesitated, knowing his own miserable life was forfeit the moment he did. He’d shown himself to be great of character and heart.

Each day since Koen had yet to feel shame in the youngling he already treated as his offspring.

Marina may have chosen him alone, but they would raise him together as a Warrior Prince to be feared by Dragon Lord and Battle Mage alike.

The thought made him protective, keen to somehow convey that to the youngling.

Meeting Boy’s eye with what he hoped was encouragement he clapped him on the shoulder. “She will prevail.” His voice was roughed by the Dragon’s growl.

Boy flinched at first contact. He gradually relaxed under the heavy weight of Koen’s palm. “I am not afraid. She would never leave us.”

Nodding in agreement, Pasha perched on a stool behind the youngling.

It was unusual for a woman of her standing to have as much power and influence over nobles of such high station, but Marina treated the older woman has an honorary mother figure.

Pasha valiantly took up the reigns the Princess tossed her way with reverent aplomb.

Her lined face stretched tight in an expression of forced calm when she realised he watched her. Offering him a fleeting smile she remained unable to hold his gaze as an equal.

She patted Boy’s shoulder comfortingly.

“Where is Daniil?” Koen demanded not caring who answered.

“Shouting at the stewards below.” Boy’s gangly legs shifted so he sat properly after Pasha poked the back of his head. He scowled at his scuffed boots. “They lost Marina’s armour. Daniil swears vengeance on those responsible.”

Anger surged. “He let her enter the quest unprotected.”

Boy’s eyes flashed to his then flitted away. “Does anybody let Marina do anything?”

Eyes narrowing, Koen grunted.

Marina’s trophy was chained to the middle of the battlefield. It was a petite female with vivid purple scales. The creature whimpered and tossed her slender neck.

Straining over the stone railings the burgeoning assembly filling the arena ceased their disrespectful taunts and gasped.

Marina made a brave dash from the crevice and bolted into the open arena.

Koen’s clenched hands tightened until they turned white.

She looked afraid, and appeared to have no plan until she made a decisive turn and lithely scaled cropping of rock. She made her first kill. The crowd applauded. Her decent from the high ground was graceless, but efficient for now she stood closer to her prize. The wolves surrounded her. Outnumbered, she widened her stance and tensed.

Koen felt his energy quicken as his Dragon prepared to save her when her spear erupted into blue flame.

He came to a complete stop.

Mute with shock, he only stirred when a familiar presence at his back roused him.

“You taught her magick?” he demanded gruffly of Dragon Lord Daniil of House Kol. His Second and honorary brother leaned heavily on the back of his throne.

Koen’s fisted hand covered his whitened lips when Daniil’s bewildered expression spoke for itself.

Marina’s circumstances improved. Her stances were simple, but solid, and her movement sure. Koen gripped the edges of his throne when mounted upon the rearing dragoness Marina threw her spear.

Pride swelled within his chest. His Treasure’s aim was deadly.

Daniil’s cry of despair as the last wolf dug its claws into Marina’s leg echoed in his brain.

Koen wrenched composure from the bottom of his soul to stop himself shifting when the coppery tang of her blood misted the air. It had a strange tang to it he recognised but couldn’t name.

He searched his memory for why the elusive scent was so familiar yet wrong.

The errant thought was lost to her pained scream.

The wolf shook off the blow from her shield, but she was down, her body exposed to a killing strike from the beast’s jaws.

“Run.” Koen lurched onto his feet. His fist slammed into the rock as he leaned over the balustrade. “Marina, Treasure, run.”

Marina rammed her shield into the wolf’s head, again, and again. Her chest rose and fell with each crushing blow.

Unlike those surrounding him who flinched at the brutality, Koen Raad derived feral satisfaction from each wet crunch.

The crowd went silent then uplifted in a roar of approval that shook the world when she threw down her shield and shrieked at them.

“Is she–” Pasha stared at her High Princess in horror. “Is she screaming eat me?”

Boy hopped back into a crouch on his padded seat. His eyes brightened with glee. “Yes, and to a crowd of shape shifting Dragon Lords who could actually eat her.”

Pasha made a choked noise of outrage.

The servants behind them snickered. They fell silent when the older woman turned a lethal matronly glare upon them.

Entering the royal viewing box, Nikolai chuckled and nudged Koen’s shoulder, eyebrows wagging. “Eat her? I should very much like to–Ugnuh!”

Gritting his teeth, Koen looked at his hand wrapped around his brother’s throat.

The younger Dragon Lord was turning blue.

Huffing, he reminded himself he might feel regret for killing his younger brother after the fact.

Might.

He released a wailing Nikolai and shoved, sending him sprawling, only for a bevy for longhaired maids to flutter to his side cooing.

Stumped, Daniil looked around in confusion as he checked the younger Raad for permanent damage then herded his chattering posse out with assurances he’d survive.

“How did these females even get in here?” he asked the door guard frantically, peeling a groping woman off his chest and thrusting her into the sheepish guard’s willing arms.

Pasha stomped her slippered foot. She still eyeballed Marina. “Goddess help us with that mouth.”

“Be easy, Pasha.” Returning, Daniil patted her hand. “Marina does not mean it the way you think. In her dimension I believe it is an insult.” After a lengthy pause where he remembered the mouthy Princess’ tendency to yell then think, he flushed. “At least I hope it is. The human dimension is a confusing place.”

“Must I remind you this is her dimension?” Mikhail’s booming voice preceded him.

Council Mon Mikhail of Imperial House Zar took the deferential bows and female sighs of appreciation as his kingly due. Time only just began to touch his face. Since the arrival of his offspring, years of aging had shed from his countenance.

Head held high, his dark eyes twinkled, piercing eyes that looked straight into the soul.

They reminded Koen of his Treasure’s stark gaze in a way that made him uncomfortable.

Mikhail’s heir had completed the first quest in Aver. He accepted the congratulations from the neighbouring boxes with an incline of the head.

The older Phoenix had reason to celebrate the victory. He could have as easily been burying her, just as easily been helping the Dragon King tear the walls down around them in a rage of grief.

“Tzion is her home,” Mikhail finished and bestowed a fond smile on his cheering grandson.

Koen agreed.

He prepared to voice this, but lurched to grab onto the scruff of Boy’s tunic. He leaned over the stone railing, hanging like a ruffian from the royal booth. He stuck up his middle finger much the way Marina had to a group of chattering younglings below.

“Told you,” he yelled in outrage as Koen dragged him back over. “I told she would survive.” The youngling almost wrenched himself free to shout, “Suck it, blackguards,” before being hauled from sight.

Pasha grabbed his finger in her wrinkled fist. “Hush. Where did you learn such foul language?”

Feet dangling, Boy struggled. Chagrined, knowing he was bested, he shrugged at Pasha’s question because it was obvious.

Trumpeting horns blasted through the noise of the buzzing crowds.

Below them, Marina wavered on her feet. Her eyes roamed for a new threat.

A smile of relief barely graced Koen’s face before his whole world crashed into nothingness.

The life seemed to flow from Marina’s limbs like the blood that dripped from her thigh.

She collapsed.

Dropping his offspring, Koen spun like a coiled snake, hissed as threateningly as the venomous reptile when bodies blocked his path. “Move. I must go to her.”

“Our Houses care for her.” Daniil bravely stood his ground when others scattered. He pointed. “Look.”

As he spoke the servants of Houses Kol, Raad and Zar ran from the bowls of the fortress. They argued amongst themselves before two males separated from the squabbling fray.

With the utmost care, they lifted Marina off the ground and carried her limp body from the unforgiving eyes of the spectators.

The remaining men were lesser Lords, and tended to the wild dragoness who took no injury during the quest.

A considerable feat since the other First Chosen’s prizes were still being healed.

She tried to follow Marina, and became aggravated when they blocked her path. The wild Dragon would be returned to the jungles and set free.

Marina earned that fate for the creature with blood.

With a flick of the wrist, Daniil motioned the others to leave them.

Tension flowed from Koen’s frame yet his anger refused to abate. Perilous emotion simmered in his eyes. “She did it.”

“You doubted?”

“I doubt everything.”

“Truer words have never been spoken.”

Koen studied his Second. Reluctantly gave a little. “I trust you. With my life and hers.”

“You honour me.”

“Sarcastic bastard.”

Daniil fought a grin. Satisfied Koen wasn’t going to tear the amphitheatre down, he hooked an arm around his friend’s shoulders. He knew better than any, whilst Koen Raad’s bite was much worse than his bark, he preferred to do the latter unless pushed beyond reason.

“She can do this. I would not have let her past the gate if I did not think she had the best of chances.”

“I know this.” Koen rapped the balustrade with his knuckles. Stone chipped away at the deceptively controlled movement. “I must see her. Hold her. Watch her chest rise and fall with life’s breath. My Dragon will not be calm until then.”

“Fine. But you must not stay long. People talk. Complaints Marina is treated with preference reach Myron’s ears daily. He then pesters me that it is unfair for the other First Chosen.”

Koen left the box and strode down the hallway. “I am caring about this?”

“It puts her at greater risk. Myron let her enter Aver because the Dragon Council twisted his arm, but do not think he will not expel her if we shun all tradition and flaunt it for all to see.”

“My preference is plain. I refuse to hide it.”

“You courted Katya.”

Koen snorted. “A deception to rid Marina of a dangerous enemy.”

“It was enough to convince many your Dragon’s attentions might be swayed by a stronger candidate.”

“That is their mistake. I will not encourage another. The last hurt my Treasure’s feelings. I would not do it again for the world.”

“Can you attempt at diplomacy? Remain aloof in her presence when the other females are within sight?”

Koen didn’t want to give ground on this matter. Not touching Marina for as long as he had almost drove him mad before a Council Mon gaily highlighted his lack of understanding on the tradition.

She could not initiate physical contact with him, but he could touch her – in private.

“Those females annoy me greatly.”

“They act for the honour and glory of their Houses. I have asked you time and time again not to hate them because of it.” Daniil lengthened his stride to keep pace with the Dragon King as he hastened to steal time with his beloved. “You know how I feel about Anastasia. I need more time to make her see we are perfect match.”

“You bother me with this because?”

“I have not forgotten of your vow concerning her.”

“Vow?”

“To kill her if she wins the Crown and hunts you.”

Stride faltering, Koen spared his friend a cross look. “I spoke rashly. I would not end the life of the female you have set your heart upon. I was enraged. Marina slipped from my grasp as your friendship deepened. Anastasia was another obstacle to my heart’s desire.” Koen snorted. “But if Marina is victorious against ice wolves I have faith she can handle that cold blooded bitch.”

Daniil cringed saying nothing. He was just relieved Koen had no plans to destroy his wilful Treasure before he had a chance to claim her.

They turned the corner and came across a Dragon Lord and Chosen rutting in plain view. The corridor was empty, but their lack of discretion was ridiculous.

The Lord’s face was buried in the crook of the giggling Chosen’s neck. His hands ran down her back to cup her ass and hold her gyrating hips closer.

It was only when the Chosen breathlessly moaned, “Oh, Nikolai,” did Daniil sigh gustily and slap a hand over his eyes.

Come morning a wronged Sire frothing at the mouth would be scrawling a challenge to House Raad on the stones.

Daniil ended a swift calculation of what another challenge would cost their political aspirations with a grimace. He was torn between distain and admiration. “How did he manage to meet an assignation between now and seeing him in the arena?”

“I do not bother myself with such questions. They are pointless and hurt my head.” Koen strolled past the writhing pair. As their moans increased in volume, he stopped. Shook his head just once. “I did not realise a female fought for your hand this Aver, brother.”

Squeaking, the flushed Chosen detached from the Dragon Lord who was not her betrothed. She dragged her bodice up and her skirts down while managing to bob a curtsey, evidently mortified.

She still managed to fling a mournful look at Nikolai’s groin before fleeing on silent feet, the palm of her hand hiding her face in a poor attempt to conceal her identity.

The three males watched her careen around the bend at speed.

Groaning, Nikolai stuffed his erect manhood into his leathers. He eyed the resulting bulge dolefully. “She was bestowing her fondest apology for being promised to another.” He glanced up angrily, sexual frustration apparent in his coloured cheeks and flared nostrils. “You could not have waited?”

Koen stalked his brother until the younger male pressed flat against the wall.

Nikolai’s shoulders hunched. He cringed expecting a blow.

“Whore,” Koen bellowed then spun about to continue his march towards the royal rooms where Marina was tended.

“Rude,” Nikolai yelled at his brother’s retreating back. He shot a wounded look at Daniil. “Was that not rude?”

Daniil gripped the taller male by the nape and shoved. “Brat.”

CHAPTER THREE

Wedged in the middle of the two males, Nikolai slung an arm around their shoulders. He hugged them roughly. “My sunshine was marvellous, was she not?”

Daniil brushed the arm off. He was not impressed in the least. “When is she not?”

“I thought for sure her chances were over when she dived into the crevice. It was a risky move. The bards will sing of her boldness for dynasties to come.”

Koen’s jaw worked as he remembered the nail biting moment.

Left with no other way to channel his anger, he pinned his younger brother with a glare. “Why do you honour us with your presence?”

“Another bounty has been placed on the head of my butterfly, a much higher sum than previous. There are a handful of Houses with enough coin to spare for such frivolity. Tyr and Ja are of course the most suspicious.”

Koen tensed. His brother’s juvenile behaviour rankled. “Marina’s life is not a frivolity.”

Stopping, Nikolai’s playful tone and expression dropped. “Spending coin to ensure her dead while she partakes in the most dangerous quests known to our race that might do the job for them? Someone is desperate. You depend on me for little. Trust me in this.”

“How can I when you act as you do?”

Jaw clenching, Nikolai looked away.

“Perhaps a union between Houses,” Daniil suggested. “Marina and I overheard a conversation between two lesser Dragon Lords. That suggests an alliance.”

A fleeting look of panic crossed Nikolai’s features. “I received no word of this.”

“I sent none. I want to investigate myself. They were reluctant to act against our Houses. I do not want males losing their lives if they can be spared.”

“Were these ice or fire breathers?”

“What does it matter?”

“You reported Drackai blackmailed into supporting plots against Koen’s bride. What makes these so special they escape judgment? Other than being fellow ice breathers?”

“What are you saying?”

“Is your allegiance to us or them?”

Daniil stiffened. “My loyalty to my King is unquestioned.”

“I question it.”

“Do not think to draw claws with me because your brother put you down as you acted the fool.” Daniil took a threatening step. “I love your family. The Raad bloodline is considered my own, supersedes ties of loyalty to the Wyvrae Court, and you know it, brat.”

Koen shoved them apart. “Enough.”

He gripped Daniil’s shoulder. The male was rigid with tension.

Kol never struck without cause. He preferred peaceful negotiation to battle, but any male had triggers. Questioning his loyalty to House Raad was a past issue sensitive between them.

Koen knew Daniil was trustworthy, but news of information regarding Marina’s safety being kept a secret was concerning. He harboured feelings for his Treasure beyond mere friendship, a situation only resolved with time.

Nevertheless, interference and possessiveness on this level was not acceptable.

“Nikolai is justified in his frustration,” Koen said. “Withholding that information was not a decision for you to make.”

Sapphire eyes narrowed. “Nonetheless, I stand by it. You would have Nikolai eradicate all and any threat. That is not the way to be, Koen. House Ja noted a blood feud on the stones. Did you know this?”

“Yes,” he answered, unemotional and indifferent. “Fools do foolery.”

“It is a matter of time before they strike.”

“I am not concerned.”

“Goddess willing, you and Marina will be together, but for the rest of your lives hunted by assassins and set upon by the upper Houses unless you get concerned. What kind of life is that?”

“They will not dare go against me once I am Emperor and protected by my Empress.”

Daniil shook his head. “I would rather assure your reign be of peace. Attempts by fire breathers on the Ice Realm’s Queen would ignite wars your ascension to Emperor is supposed to quell.”

Expression jaded, Koen walked away.

Quickening his pace, he thought on what his Second said. His want was simple – Marina as his wife. Tradition made such a thing endlessly complicated and fraught with danger.

Death stalked his Treasure even now.

The celebrations would begin in mere hours, and he was expected to attend, mingle, and congratulate the Chosen who made it this far in Aver.

All he wanted was to curl up with Marina for the night and sleep. Hold her to him and join their bodies as one. Watch her beautiful smile light up his world as he teased her to the delirious heights of ecstasy. See how many times her body could shudder and peak, as he loved her.

Consoled by the notion Marina would meet the coming challenges and be successful Koen fought his impatience. Goddess knew what he would do if she failed.

Reaching her apartments, his lips thinned.

Regent Myron arched a brow at his presence yet made no move to impede his right of entry. He spoke quietly to the Healer exiting Marina’s room.

Satisfied by what he heard, he offered Koen a respectful bow then turned his attention to Daniil. He summoned the male with a steady lift of his chin. The Regent sent Koen a terse look of warning then spun and swept down the corridor with Daniil on one side and the Mage Healer on the other.

He did not bother ringing the bell. Koen slid the decorative screen aside and entered the room with Nikolai on his heels.

She was awake and upright in bed.

Marina’s beauty struck him as a multifarious, changeable phenomenon. She affianced his senses. There was a wild intensity to how her features expressed emotion. It was purely elusive, riveting. Beguiling. She transfixed him, the mere sight of her an experience to savour like rich, ruby coloured wine in firelight.

Her cheeks were rosy with health, and her dark eyes beamed excitement. They smiled when she spotted him. Her black hair was a mess. A mess he yearned to fist his hands in. The glossy cap of spiky, often tousled locks brushed her eyelashes at the front, and swept her nape.

He imagined it long enough to wind around his wrist and blanket his body as he slumbered.

Her scent filled the room. Warm, honeyed. It slid down his throat and wrapped around his cock.

Their gazes tangled.

Reaching for him before he’d fully cleared the threshold, Marina smoothed her hand over his calloused palm. She gripped his forearm as he clasped her delicate wrist.

She laughed throatily when he abandoned pretence of politeness and snatched her from the bed.

None in attendance voiced complaint. None viewed it as anything other than his right to tend to his female.

The ache within eased.

A rough growl of satisfaction punched past his lips. He held her to his chest and nosed her hair.

Echoes of his earlier rage dimmed the pleasurable reunion. Locking their gazes, he glowered.

“Don’t act like you’re not impressed.” She pressed her plush mouth to his chin then pushed another harder kiss to his lips as his head dropped. “Oh, don’t make that face at me.” Her hand cupped his throat. “I didn’t get clawed on purpose.”

Amused at the dominant positioning of her hand, Koen sat, Marina on his lap. He studied her scarred thigh.

Four jagged stripes scored the once smooth curve of moonstone-coloured flesh. They were raised and pink – freshly healed.

“Hurts?”

“Not so much. Feeling high actually.” Her voice chimed like a bell. “The Healer patched me up with magick. Khan’s a Mage. Did you see the tattoos on his cheeks? I might get one of those.”

Cupping her sweetly curved jaw, Koen rubbed his thumbs over the soft rounds of her cheeks. He prayed she never marred her beauty that way. “They are burned into the skin with iron brands.”

“Oh.” She squinted as she thought about it. “Maybe not then. Why would they do that?”

“The Barren Ones mark their strongest warriors.” Koen ran his gaze over her and truly saw nothing more damaging than a few scratches and grazes. “I am glad you are well.” His voice lowered ominously. Power filled the room. “This, my little fool, means you will explain your decision to fight without battle armour.”

Arousal infused her scent. She shivered. “I’m lusty for danger?”

Infuriated by her teasing the Dragon rose. His tone turned threatening. “Marina.”

“It went missing,” she whispered quickly peering back at the creature hidden within his gaze. Rather than run screaming, she smiled, pressed closer in welcome.

“I believe it was stolen in the hope you would withdraw.” Daniil spoke evenly as he entered the room. His expression was anything but calm. His clenched jaw ticked as he slid the screen closed. “I questioned the servants and they saw the armour earlier in the day. They swore an attendant wearing House Zar livery took it.” Daniil shared a severe look with his liege. “We have a traitor.”

Mikhail uncoiled himself from where he reclined as a Dragon. ‘They shall be dealt with.’ The floor shook as he approached. His dark eyes brimmed with malice at the betrayal.

“Who knew it was possible to get bored of people trying to kill you?” Marina plucked at the edge of Koen’s tunic. “Why can’t whoever has a problem come out and say it?”

“You could challenge them on the political stones,” Daniil said. “They would be unable to refuse. To do so would stain the honour of their House.” Anger clipped his words. “An upper House would never let that kind of slight go without retaliation. This foe would have no choice but to fight you fairly. Our enemy treads carefully to avoid this. They will remain hidden.”

“Then drag them out into the open. I have enough to deal with. I want to know who wants me dead.” Marina paused. Her head shook in irritation. “I haven’t hurt anybody. These people don’t know me. Why the grudge?”

“Your existence has changed the course of our future greatly.” The passionate outburst came from the old woman seeing to Marina’s dress robes.

The males turned bemused and bad-tempered gazes her direction.

Pasha’s eyes dropped. “It is just....” Intimidated, she shrank until her neck disappeared into the stiff-collar of her dress tunic.

“Say what you like about our Houses,” Marina insisted. “Better to know the truth than be blind to it.” She looked at Koen. Shifted her gaze to Daniil when his expression remained unreadable. “Right?”

Knowing another explanation on the intricacies of how servants interacted with their betters would be lost on his offspring, Mikhail snorted, blowing hot air over her.

“You treat me as an equal,” Pasha said quietly, pausing. “It is not our way.”

“I’m not getting into this with you again,” Marina said distractedly. She raked her fingernails down the side of Koen’s neck. It fascinated her how he shuddered and stiffened against her.

“Speak freely,” Koen commanded.

He tugged Marina’s hand from his throat and linked their fingers. Reacting viscerally to her touch was not shameful, but he shared her attention. He would rather wait – patient – until he could drag her to his lair. Nobody needed to see what he would do to her. That was for his enjoyment alone. There she could pet him as he devoured her. She was little and he could keep her there easily. Trapped under him for days and days....

Clueless to his lustful thoughts, Pasha gave Koen an awed look. “Raad servants are loyal as are those who serve Zar.” Not entirely comfortable, she flicked a look between the two House Heads. Averting her gaze she shifted awkwardly. “But there have been whispers of discord – worry surrounding the risk of Raad’s sister House being Zar. Ja has noted a blood feud. They are not kind to their people. They are taking their frustration out on them, and it is having an effect in how the servants between Houses treat each other. Some are resentful. They believe the strife is because of the union between the Princess and King. They believe the unrest will get worse.”

“Servants exaggerate,” Daniil said. His tone was flat and unimpressed. “Which is why it is not their place to speculate on the business of their masters.”

Flushing, Pasha nodded and lowered her head. “Of course, my Lord.”

Marina eyed his Second in disapproval. “Thank you, Pasha. We need to know information like this. It helps. Now Nikolai knows where to focus his attention next.” She peeked at where the younger Raad brother stood sulking in the corner.

Having captured her attention, he preened. “You know what I do?” Emboldened by her interest he advanced with a leer.

“That you protect me?” Delighted by his cheekiness, Marina reached for a hug.

Koen stiffened.

Wisely, Nikolai relinquished her arms and gallantly bowed. He took her hand to rain noisy, nibbling kisses on it.

She grinned impishly as he nuzzled her fingers. They played their game. “I owe you an apology, huh? I had rather unfair thoughts about you.”

“Think of me in any capacity that pleases you, angel. I am your devoted servant. One who guards your body at day,” their gazes met as he smiled invitingly, “and at night.”

Short, rough growls vibrating his chest, Koen severed the contact. He made sure to dig his fingers hard into the male’s groping hand. “Take care, brother. I know where these paws have been.”

Marina stared at her palm. Distaste curdled her good-humoured expression. “I don’t want to know do I?”

Shaking with silent laughter, Daniil shook his head.

Pasha was on hand with a damp cloth.

Marina wiped her hands with vigour then tossed it at Nikolai’s face, wrapping it around his head with a wet splat.

He dragged it off pouting.

The guard outside the chamber hailed a newcomer.

After a moment’s contemplation Marina brightened. Her eyes fixed on the growing shadow cast over the entrance screen. She made a neck slicing motion. “Avoid talk of me being in danger please.”

Mikhail snorted. His tail flicked disapprovingly. ‘Overprotective.’

“Motherly,” Pasha murmured in rare contrariness.

Koen thought her warm and soft tone pleasant. It was the way things should be with females concerning younglings. He decided Mikhail mirrored his thoughts, as the male did not protest the small defiance.

“He tried to slit his own throat when I was poisoned. I have nightmares about it.” Marina’s look warned them all. “No one says anything.”

The bell chimed and the screen slid back.

Boy hastily stepped into the room. He headed straight for Marina. He didn’t touch her but hovered close, gaze flashing over her injuries. At the end of his inspection he seemed satisfied she’d been cared for.

As he’d studied her, Marina had made her own inspection. She brought her fingers to touch his swelling eye.

He shied away.

Clasping his pointed chin, not yet shadowed with the whiskers of a grown man, she tugged him down to get a better look. “What happened?”

“A fight of honour.” His young face was gravely serious. Boy was nearly as grim as Koen. “Scum from House Vor claimed you cheated.”

Mikhail snapped his jaws. ‘Hypocritical bastards.’

Boy nodded sombrely.

Marina tapped his cheek to reclaim his attention. “So you started a fight?”

He hesitated, pondering the consequences of telling the truth.

Koen rubbed a velvety skein of Marina’s hair. He inhaled its coconut scent. Distracted though he appeared, he was keenly attuned to the exchange. “Do not lie to your mother.”

“Yes,” Boy replied fatalistically. “He shoved me but I struck first.”

Marina released him to brush a lock of hair from his forehead. Boy flinched. She ignored the twitch and stroked his head. “This challenger from House Vor looks worse than you? You won?”

Wary, he nodded.

Her predatory smile had Koen’s Dragon purring.

“Good,” she said bluntly.

He smiled into her hair.

Mikhail boomed laughter while Daniil and Nikolai quietly snickered. Piqued, Pasha cleared her throat nosily.

“What?” Marina demanded. “Everybody keeps telling me it is survival of the fittest. This lordling needed to be made an example of.”

Disappointed, Pasha’s face drooped. “Violence begets violence.”

“I hear you. What have we done to these people to deserve their scorn? Why does my family have to suffer and defend me from who should be my people?” She received no answer. “How long must I continue to turn the other cheek? When will it end, Pasha? So I refused to be scared off. Instead of accepting I’m here to stay these cowards have become more desperate. They act as if I’m trying to steal their worldly goods. All I want is to mate Koen, dissolve the slave trade, and redistribute a portion of their wealth to the poor.” She looked at them beseechingly in turn. “Am I that bad?”

“I believe the problem is they see the plan too clearly,” Daniil muttered.

“What happens when someone I love turns up dead? Look at what happened to Tatiana.” Her face drew into a fierce scowl at the thought of Boy being made to suffer because of her aspirations. “These people have to be taught there are consequences – painful, distressing, end of your entire male family line consequences for messing with my family. I want each noble to understand touching a hair upon anyone from Houses Zar, Raad or Kol in anything but an honourable challenge will result in getting their spine ripped out their ass.”

The silence was cutting.

Daniil’s lips twisted. “A disturbing visual.”

Pasha’s eyes welled. Marina had no idea how the gentle woman survived Tzion’s harsh environment before coming to work for her. “This will not end well, Princess.”

“I won’t go looking for trouble. I swear it. But my compassion will not extend to bullies and murderers. I will no show no mercy if they come looking to hurt me and mine.”

“But you speak of Lord Kol dragging your hidden foes into the open for Lord Raad to destroy.”

“They started it.” Marina brushed her fingers through Boy’s curls. Her determination to protect him was plain. “I mean to finish it.”

Koen was proud. He bared his teeth at his Treasure’s fierce declaration. “No mercy,” he rumbled and he claimed her mouth in a bruising kiss.

‘No mercy,’ Mikhail agreed.

Nikolai snorted. “Like I gave any in the first place.”

Daniil’s head dropped. When it lifted his expression was resigned. “No mercy.”

CHAPTER FOUR

Marina sidled into the grand hall. Nervous excitement jittered over her skin. Eyes were on her as she crossed the stone floor with the remaining First Chosen flanking her.

The other Chosen that entered Aver for lesser Dragon Lords were done. Some had won their Dragon while others failed. Marina felt bad for the women who hadn’t succeeded. Bitter sobs of anguish echoed though the halls, and the Dragon Lords denied their mates appeared heartbroken by their failures. Of course they could mate outside of Aver, but the Houses wanted the prestige that came with an Aver victor, and pressured their heirs to hold out until the female prevailed.

Marina briefly wondered what she would sound like if she failed during Aver then cast the thought aside. She wasn’t going to fail. Failure meant losing Koen, and while the new people in her life thrilled her, he was at the centre of it.

Admittedly, her drive to be a Tzion Queen would be nonexistent if he wasn’t her reward.

Dressed in a gown of deep purple with silver stitching, Marina itched the back of her neck and tried not to touch her face.

Pasha, the sneaky witch, had made up her face as she took a nap before the feast. After bathing, Marina had fallen onto the soft mattress thinking about the next quest. Within a heartbeat she’d been snoring. She woke with little time to get dressed, barely enough to wrap her in the shakus of fabric constituting her dress robes, green embroidery on a shimmering black backdrop.

Only when Pasha was forced to let her check her hairstyle did Marina discover her ghostlike complexion, red lips and kohl black eyes.

She’d been furious.

On the long walk to the celebration Marina argued with her handmaiden. “You are so lucky I have to go to this. You better find a damn good place to hide. When it’s over I’m coming after you.”

Knowing Marina’s threats were full of hot air, Pasha merely sniffed then hotfooted it out of sight.

Chest puffed with pride after winning the honour of escorting her to the victory feast, Boy fought what she suspected was a smile at the exchange.

He’d yet to grin without restraint, but Marina knew once his icy wall cracked he’d smile all the time. She couldn’t wait for the day he trusted her enough to reveal the full enormity of his emotions.

Leaving her with the other First Chosen, Boy ghosted through the imposing double doors.

Marina smiled ruefully, aching inside watching him go. She kissed and hugged him whenever she could, always had a hand on him to forge a connection of trust. It wasn’t something she’d been advised to do, just something that felt natural to her. He was her son. She wanted to feel close to him. He was already nearly full grown so she only had a few years of coddling left.

Boy never reached out to her. It pained her how he held himself apart, as if he wasn’t worthy. He was always careful not to invade her personal space, rarely initiated the physical contact, and though he was able to accept her overtures of comfort, he struggled to talk about his feelings.

She knew he and Koen already had their own male understanding, and he got on famously with Mikhail, but she wanted something special with him too.

Marina’s eyes scanned the throne room until she realised everybody stared at her with a mixture of intrigue and horror. Her attention returned to what she was doing. Had she ripped her dress to expose herself? Was the back of her skirt tucked into her knickers? What? Marina glanced over her shoulder. Had she accidently mowed someone down? That kept happening. As she walked the stone hallways, she’d hear a squeal, and look down to find some disdainful Lord’s neck under her boot heel. She grinned inwardly. Okay, so she’d tripped a few then walked all over them. Sometimes stubborn people needed to be publically humiliated to be brought down a peg or two.

Frowning, Marina planted her hands on her hips and returned the glare of the Lords eyeballing her. What the hell was their problem? Did they want to fight? Oh, she’d fight. Almeria taught her never to back down. She was a scrapper through and through.

Marina started to see if she could roll up her trailing sleeves, and checked to make sure she wasn’t wearing earrings. She didn’t remember putting any on, but that wouldn’t have stopped Pasha. The older woman stuck, hung, and tied dangly crap to her all the time without her noticing. Marina had to respect the ingenuity. Pasha made an art of covertly decorating her. She never felt a thing, and often undressed in the evening finding she wore bangles, necklaces and other jewels she knew for a fact she hadn’t put on knowing they’d clang and tinkle annoyingly. Her lack of awareness of how the woman was managing it would have disturbed her if she didn’t suspect Boy helped the wily crone.

A loud throat clearing brought her back to her senses.

Daniil subtly motioned to something she’d missed as her mind wandered.

Marina’s gaze followed his manic pointing and dropped. The women either side of her practically kissed the floor in a bow.

Surprised, she glanced up and found Koen slouched in his throne hiding a smile behind his palm.

As their gazes met his harsh, shadowed face lightened. His raven wing eyebrow, the one with the scythe-shaped scar bisecting it, the one she constructed whole fantasies around, cocked. The curve of his sensual lips turned indulgent.

Just what was so amusing?

Eyes narrowing, Marina bobbed her head. All the bowing and scraping got on her nerves. It was a wonder anybody got anything done when every other person of rank had you bent over double or undergoing some tiresome ceremonial dance of respect.

She understood the value behind offering her elders and betters respect, but the Dragon Courts took it too far.

She’d grow a hunchback at this rate.

When she was Empress it was top of the list of things that needed addressing. Alongside slavery, treatment of servants and the introduction of a pension scheme for loyalists like Pasha who often found themselves destitute after a transgression no more erroneous than speaking their minds.

There were many good works she could do for the citizens. It wasn’t been an unwelcome realisation.

Coming from a world where freedom was fought for everyday, she could nurture a bohemian revolution.

Back in the human dimension there were always efforts made to address injustice, but the power structure was simply too corrupt for lasting change. Here in Tzion power and submission was granted to the strongest.

If the strongest was a tight-fisted tyrant the land suffered. If the strongest was a benevolent soul with an iron clad will and determined to see change for the better the land prospered.

Marina knew Koen possessed negligible political sway as King in the everyday running of the Kingdom and Realm. That responsibility fell to the Queens. He would hold less as Emperor. However, the mighty presence of his Dragon alone would dissuade civil war, melding the military and civilian forces together, giving them a unified, and therefore powerful voice the nobles must respect and heed.

Koen’s influence aside, her control over the Ice Realm as Queen could go a long way to improving the lives of many. As she was a High Princess, the rare offspring of a Phoenix, surely she would retain influence on the Drackai nobility too?

As Emperor and Empress she and her Dragon Mate would help the people move into an age of prosperity and freedom. That was worth giving up some of the liberty she’d enjoyed.

Besides, she would have her Koen Raad.

Yet another throat clearing brought her back into the moment at hand.

It was Koen making the noise this time. He was momentarily puzzled at the disgruntled expression stamped on Marina’s face.

What mercenary thoughts occupy her mind, he wondered?

That he never knew what she was thinking is one of the aspects of the female that fascinated him. There was no artifice in her manner. She was raw emotion barely contained in a curvaceous figure. Her unpredictability thrilled him as much as the lushness of her lips and the vibrancy of her eyes.

Sighing, wishing he could sweep her into his arms and kiss her senseless, he inclined his head and waved the cluster of women away.

As Marina twisted to leave her expression creased in panic. Her skirts tangled around her ankles at the abruptness of her movement.

Enchanted she made no attempt to conceal her alarm, Koen crooked a finger, giving her the excuse to linger and correct her garment.

Eyeing the arrogant gesture, Marina froze. It was a good thing too. The reprieve was long enough to gather her wits and correct her clothing.

Gaze flitting every which way as her hands fiddled, she got her legs free and her skirts falling neatly. Proud of her accomplishment, she beamed at no one in particular, but seemed to remember he’d called her to him and puckered her lips.

Hesitant, wary, she finally threw her head back and marched to the dais. Her dress robes billowed around her. If her character had been any less bold the silken fabric would have swallowed her. Instead she was a vision he felt honoured to behold, an avenging goddess demanding supplication.

Her eyes flicked over his head to rest on the Dragon Council.

They reclined on stone plinths behind him. As always present to remind the Drackai nobility and the Wyvrae gentry of the Council’s power and majesty.

Marina looked decidedly unimpressed then settled her gaze on him questioningly. The defiance behind her facade of serenity made Koen hot under the collar.

He admired her strength and desired her passionate approach to life. Crisp and light, her scent teased his senses. Ensorcelled by its unassuming headiness, he leaned forward to better imprint it. Its memory would keep him sane at night until she won Aver and could soothe his beast herself.

Flushing, she went to rub her cheek. Her hand hovered by her jaw and she wiggled her elegant fingers. A line appeared between her brows. “Pasha did it.” Her tone was all accusation.

“You look beautiful.” His head tilted. “But I prefer your natural face.”

“Glad to hear it.”

Amused at her irritation, Koen eased back and drummed his fingers on the arm of his throne. “Sit beside me during the feast.”

“Am I allowed?’ She eyed him. “Or will it send the Regent to horrified spasms that will result in me getting an hour long lecture from Daniil on humility and propriety while Mikhail looks on sniggering.” Her hands fisted at her sides. “He thinks trying to teach me how to be a Lady is a waste of time. I tend to agree with him, but keep that between us.”

Deciding not to comment on her continued difficulties with her Sire, Koen debated how to answer her question.

After what happened with Katya, Marina could be sensitive about the strictures of decorum during the tournament festivities.

“Yes.”

“Yes, I’ll be in trouble?” she asked. “Or did you mean yes, it’s allowed?”

Laughter rumbled in Koen’s chest. “Yes, it is allowed.”

“I’m getting the sense it’s not that simple.”

He frowned even as his mouth curved. He should have known she would see past the oblique answer. “What do you say?”

Her striking eyes narrowed, suspicious. “Nothing with you people in this dimension is straightforward. You say, ‘Sit next to me at supper,’ and it seems harmless when in reality it’s the equivalent of squatting on the table spitting in the food.”

“Hm. I must sit with either Anastasia or Galina during the subsequent feasts if you grace me with your presence tonight.”

“The forth? Or is there no feast before the Hunt?”

“Both Queens sit either side of me.”

First Chosen were not supposed to be shown preference by the Dragon King, at least not in the open. She could handle the other two sitting next to Koen for the length of a meal. Once Aver was over it was as close as either of them would get for the rest of their lives.

“Alright,” she said fighting a smile. “I’ll see you later.”

Pleased, Koen winked.

Marina turned just as her smile broke free. She didn’t get to see Koen as much as she desired, but since their misunderstanding had been cleared up, she harboured no doubts he loved her and wanted them together.

Winning Aver was coming to mean more than just being with him, but it was definitely the reason why she woke every morning. The reason she had the strength to deal with the ceremony and danger surrounding the event.

Bustling up to Daniil, he offered her his arm. She took it gladly and snuck a look over her shoulder.

Koen’s hungry eyes remained locked with hers until Regent Myron approached and caught his attention.

“You are making important people jealous. Each time you and Koen flaunt your relationship you make an enemy.” Daniil squeezed her hand. “Remember what we spoke of? We need no reason for more assassins to target you.”

“Anastasia just wants to be Empress. She isn’t interested in Koen. Galina doesn’t care for men at all.”

Marina had seen women sneaking to and from the Chosen’s room in the dead of night. From the sounds that drifted from behind the screens they weren’t in there braiding hair.

Marina took naughty pleasure in roaming the halls at night when sleep proved elusive. It was amazing what she learned. Straight-laced by tradition by day, the Dragon Courts were downright seedy when the sun went down. One moonless night she’d been drawn to the end of a corridor by the sound of someone moaning. Moaning in what she’d thought was pain. A quick glance into a lowly lit room showed otherwise. Her face had flamed, and she’d silently left. The impression of writhing limbs remained tattooed on her retinas.

“I don’t see where jealousy comes into it,” she continued. “Katya lusted after Koen and look at her now.”

It was hard not to be smug.

Marina let her gaze drift over to the disgraced Ja House. She might have felt guilty if the bitch hadn’t hired droves of assassins to kill her. Then again if it weren’t for Katya she wouldn’t have Boy.

The woman still breathed for that reason alone.

Stiffening at her harsh thoughts, Marina tore her gaze away from her former rival.

The savagery of her thoughts unnerved her.

How bloodthirsty she would be after a year of living in such a cutthroat environment?

A shiver went down her spine. What kind of woman would she become if after a few weeks she already thought the best way to rid herself of an enemy was to kill them?

Marina peered into her wine goblet, troubled. How far am I willing to go to win?

“I was not speaking of the First Chosen,” Daniil repeated, sensing her mind was elsewhere and watching her carefully.

Shaking herself, she gazed at him questioningly. “Then who?”

“I spoke of their Sires.”

She snorted into her goblet, much to the disgust of the hook-nosed Lord trying to elbow his way into their circle.

“How kind of you to grace us with your presence, Lord Tyr.” Daniil’s drawl of acknowledgement to the Dragon Lord was nothing more than a disinterested courtesy. “Lady Galina performed well during the first quest.”

“Of course.” His eyes gleamed. “She is of House Tyr.”

Not really wanting to be around this male – whose gaze made her feel dirty – Marina glanced around for an escape. It came in the form of her Sire. In Dragon form he growled at something hidden behind his restless wing.

Cocking her head, she started over to him, but forgot Daniil had hold of one of her hands.

“Oh, no,” he hissed in her ear. “If I have to deal with him, so do you.”

“You’re the politician,” she whispered. “Since I intend on being crowded Queen of the Ice Realm I think we should begin the role of eccentric monarch and long-suffering advisor. Guess which one you are.”

Satisfied she'd shocked him, Marina sashayed through the crowded room. No one but Boy had known definitely of her intent to become the Wyvrae Queen not the Queen of the fire breathers.

Truthfully, she hadn’t known herself until just before the first quest.

Anastasia may be a bitch, but after research Marina knew the woman ruled her queendom fairly. There was the troublesome influence her brother wielded, but Marina figured with support from her neighbouring sovereign the woman would, well, man up, and set her brother into his place. And Daniil was in love with her. A marriage between her chief advisor and Anastasia would be brilliant. If he was ready to stop being Koen’s Second, which she wasn’t convinced of.

Maybe she and the icy blonde could even make friends.

The closer to the Dragon Council she came, Marina realised something odd was going on.

The councilmen were almost cringing.

Council Mon Isaak, the Dragon who lead the eminent Council, appeared frightened of what roamed in their midst.

Mikhail looked as if someone sat on his tail his expression was so curdled.

A shrill, brisk voice berated him.

Her heart stopped.

“Mikhail?” Marina pushed at his foreleg, trying to look around his bulk. “Who is that?” she asked excitedly, because though she asked, she already knew.

“And another thing,” Cathryn yelled, poking Mikhail’s side. “If you ever think about plucking me off the ground with that slimy tail of yours and taking to the sky ... don't.”

“Cat?” Marina felt a grin stretch across her face.

Cathryn spun around and squealed. “Rina!”

CHAPTER FIVE

Both women flung themselves at each other. They crashed somewhere in the middle, arms and legs tangled until they went down.

Giggling, they clung, and petted each other, chattering in an interminable rush to fill the other in what had happened since their separation. Their surroundings faded into a blur of scandalized whispers and curious mutterings.

Rolling his eyes, Mikhail used his body to conceal them from prying eyes.

“Michael dumped me,” Cathryn said, blushing furiously.

“Bastard. I’m in love with Koen Raad, Dragon King of this dimension.”

“So glad to hear you didn’t fall to your death chasing an imaginary creature.” Cathryn’s voice was dry, but her eyes amused. She jerked her head towards Mikhail. “That black Dragon who brought me here is an asshole. Super hot but an asshole.”

“Gross. Mikhail is my biological father. I’m a High Princess.”

“No sodding way. A Princess? Do you actually rule, you know, peoples?”

“It's an honorary title. I’m currently in this ancient competition called Aver to win a crown and then I’ll be Queen. Then I’ll rule ‘peoples’ as you so eloquently put it.” Marina grinned. “I mean to be a good Queen.”

Before Marina knew it, she babbled about what happened with Koen and the other First Chosen, Daniil's harsh but invaluable training, and Nikolai’s mischievous exploits.

She was so caught up in retelling her story she missed the moment her friend’s face creased in confusion, worry, and then downright anger.

“That all sounds ... not good.” Cathryn pulled away from the hug. “You have to prove yourself? You don’t have to prove anything to anyone.”

“I have to.” Marina sat up too. She was staggered by the vehemence in the usually serene woman. “Koen is meant to be Emperor but he can’t until his Empress claims him. That’s me.”

“I want you to listen very carefully. People are trying to kill you. This is not funny.” Cathryn gripped her shoulder. “Thank goodness Mikhail ordered me found and brought over. Somebody needs to talk sense into you before you get dead.”

“You think none of us tried?” Daniil’s dry inquiry didn’t charm the woman in the slightest.

Cathryn eyed him up and down. Scowled. “Are you he?” she demanded accusingly. “Are you the Dragon King?”

Daniil graced her with a sexy smirk. “If you want me to be. Introductions, Marina?”

“Daniil, this is Cathryn James. Cat this is Dragon Lord Daniil of House Kol, a Wyvrae from the Ice Realm.”

Used to dealing with aggressive men, Cathryn stood, straightened her spine and thrust out her hand. “Pleased to meet you.”

Taken aback by her assertiveness then attracted to it, Daniil clasped it. “The same for me is true. It is a pleasure.”

Mikhail made a low grumbling noise.

The younger Dragon Lord blinked. His eyes rolled upward. Whatever he saw made him drop her hand.

Daniil smoothly took a measured step away from the blonde beauty. He wasn’t afraid of the Council Mon, but he wasn’t going to aggravate him either.

He gave Cathryn a wry smile. “I think you will find it most welcoming here, Lady Cathryn.”

“I’m not a lady,” she said flatly.

Marina hooked an arm around hers. “Of course you are. You’re going to be a Raad like me.”

Mikhail puffed hot air over them. “So quick to dismiss your House.”

Marina ignored him. “Or you can be a Zar. Whichever you prefer. Both would sound good, and are Imperial Houses. Rank is a big deal over here, and you can’t rise higher than a royal family.” Marina lowered her voice. “It’s not all sunshine and roses, but you get used to the death threats.”

Appalled, Cathryn rubber her forehead. “You really think you’re going to win this tournament and get the guy, don’t you?”

Marina seemed genuinely put out. “Hey. I've trained my ass off for this.”

Cathryn noticed the evil stares and hostility directed at Marina’s back. The hatred was palpable. There was a great deal of respect and admiration too, but those people were not the ones her friend was at risk from.

The rules were different in this land, and Cathryn resolved to learn them to protect herself and her impulsive friend.

Marina had suffered the months prior to disappearing. The loss of her mother had broken her emotionally, and recovering from her extensive injuries of the accident left her physically drained.

It was no wonder Cathryn had feared Marina close to a full psychotic episode when she returned to their cabin babbling about dragons.

But as usual, Marina had fallen onto her feet. She was – dare Cathryn think it – thriving. There was colour in her cheeks, a bounce to her step, and a sweet kind of peace infusing her very presence. She was happy. Cathryn hadn’t seen the Marina this excited since Almeria died.

It had originally been her plan to drag Marina home. Seeing her so cheerful threw Cathryn into doubt. If this is where Marina wanted to be then she would stay to help as best she could for as long as possible.

Ignoring the presence of the black Dragon that peered down at her with eyes so much like her friend’s, Cathryn scanned the crowd.

Marina tugged on her arm, pointing and explaining, laughing and joking.

Now to meet this Koen Raad, and work out why Marina felt the need to risk life and limb to earn the right to marry him.

Drifting towards the feast, Marina was snagged by her Sire’s left arm while Cathryn dangled happily from his right.

Her friend’s harsh glares to the nobles and gentry softened as the older Dragon Lord softly murmured apologies for his earlier behaviour and pointed out stone artwork and colourful scrollwork she might be interested in.

Too apprehensive to notice Mikhail strutted proudly showing them off, Marina worked out the best way to introduce Cathryn to Koen Raad. She was going to interrogate him then take his head off when he gave an unsatisfactory answer. The dilemma was Koen’s fuse was shorter than even Cathryn’s. While the woman would try to verbally grill him, he literally could roast her, and would if she irritated him enough.

Marina took a moment to imagine a crispy, bald Cathryn after a smug Koen finished burning her hair and eyebrows off.

Shredding her lip under her teeth, Marina passed a series of strikingly carved stone pillars that bracketed the corridor.

Tasselled banners draped from bronze rods depicting House Raad, the ruling Imperial House.

Daniil slinked from behind the thick covering. Eyes flitting around to check they were alone, he grabbed her free arm to yank her back.

Mikhail jerked, alert, ready to battle, but seeing who held her, he returned his attention to his chattering companion.

Narrowing her eyes, Marina resisted Daniil’s urging to follow.

Mikhail’s gaze on Cathryn was far too lusty.

Alright, Marina admitted gave him a hard time about other stuff, but she wasn’t imagining the fire in his eyes as they swept down to rest on her friend’s ass.

And stayed there.

Cathryn didn’t seem to notice his developing infatuation. She fired a dozen questions a minute at him, blue eyes shrewdly taking in the highborn individuals surrounding her.

Marina wasn’t sure what her friend was cooking up, but whatever it was it was likely unpleasant. Marina could hardly wait for Cathryn to hit her main stride. The Houses wouldn’t know what hit them when she started her machinations.

Daniil squeezed her arm. “We have a problem.”

“When don’t we?”

The tip of her tongue bitten between her teeth, she boosted onto her toes and peered past the grand doors leading to the feasting.

At the angle she stood Koen was visible.

She smiled seeing the empty seat next to him. Her seat. She loved being close to him. His heat, his scent, his sheer presence affected her in way no male ever had or would.

“May we deal with this later?” she asked.

“No.” Keeping his hold firm, Daniil drew her to the side and slightly behind the pillar. The banner kept them concealed and dampened their hushed voices. “This cannot wait.”

“There’s always a problem that seems urgent....” She trailed off at the anxiety pinching his features.

As she stared her mind floundered.

Daniil was beautiful for a male. His appearance didn’t appeal to her as Koen’s ruggedness did, but had she met Daniil first she knew her heart might have been lost to him instead of the Dragon King, because despite his considerable physical attributes, he was as kind as he was attractive.

Square jawed with a proud uplift to his nose, warrior braids that gleamed dully in the torchlight framed Daniil’s handsome face. His glacial blue eyes made her wonder if the ice plains were similar in colour.

Giving him the entirety of her attention, she patted his hand on her arm. “Alright, I’m listening.”

“I received word from Yaakov, the Regent’s aide. Tomorrow morning Myron and his personal physician will be verifying the Chosen as pure.”

She puzzled out why that was a bad thing. “You’re not talking pure of heart, are you?”

“I mean untouched.”

Losing colour her eyes rounded. She nodded slowly in comprehension then shook her head more forcefully in outright refusal.

Tapping his fist against his thigh, Daniil nodded stiffly. “You see the problem?”

What an inane question. He must have been worried to ask a rhetoric that would be considered sarcastic if she hadn’t known it wasn’t his style.

“They can’t expect to find anything,” she said tightly. “A physical barrier of innocence with the life a Chosen leads?” Marina placed a hand low on her stomach. “We’re all so active. Running, and jumping, and riding ... straddling Dragons.”

Happy with her shoddily conceived lie, she shook off the momentary panic.

A teeny bit of deception never hurt anybody.

Peeking past the silky banner, she sidled from behind the pillar. “All sorted?”

“The physicians touch is not physical. The exam is mystical.”

Material whooshing behind her, Marina swerved back around. The dangly ornament had Pasha speared into her hair slapped across her face with a crystalline tinkle. “Come again?”

“He will lay his hands on your back and will be able to tell if a male has ever marked you with his essence.”

Marina flushed. “Well that seems invasive. I’m not sure I like the idea of a stranger touching me that way.”

“So your objections are in no way influenced by Koen having already plundered your virgin cave?”

She stared aghast at his crass remark. “You are such a guy. Can you hear yourself right now?” She smacked his chest with the back of her hand. Scoffed when he merely cracked a shit-eating grin. “How am I getting around this? What does it mean if I am declared–”

“Well-broken in?”

She gaped at him. Then she stamped on his toes. Nearly broke her damn ankle doing it too since the stacked heel skidded on the uneven ground. “Will the humiliation end?”

Lifting his leg to rub his trampled foot, Daniil couldn’t keep the smirk from his face, even with the threat of another stomp. “We must speak to Mikhail.”

“We are not talking to him about this.” Marina’s rigid forefinger jabbed damningly at the floor since there was no one else in the hallway to tag as an offender. Except herself, that is, and she wasn’t into self-flagellation when it could be avoided by blaming everyone and everything else. “Not only is it embarrassing as hell it’s just weird.”

“The Dragon Council must be aware of your predicament.” This was said absently, Daniil’s expression thoughtful. “I wonder why a representative was not dispatched to warn us.” His tone turned musing. “Or perhaps they never foresaw this complication.”

Her fingers curled under into fists that clenched even tighter. “No one thought to tell me there’d be a test? I could have foreseen this problem myself.”

“With everything else it slipped my mind.”

“The last time we grazed this particular topic Mikhail challenged Koen.”

“As was his right.”

Marina scowled. “Well. I’ll have to come clean and tell the Regent Koen and I were intimate before I entered Aver.”

Daniil made a strangled noise. His head swung side-to-side making his warrior braids fly. “Marina, Chosen must be pure.”

“Are you telling me First Chosen ascend their thrones intact? Virgin Queens?”

“Most definitely.”

“Most definitely,” she parroted sarcastically. Her lips twisted in a snarl. “I can’t believe this crucial piece of information escaped everyone’s attention. New rule. Tell Marina everything and let her decide what’s relevant, worth remembering, brooding, or panicking over.” She darted a covert look around the banner realising people must wonder where they were. “I am in no way pure. Koen dealt with that problem. Twice.” She inhaled then exhaled, using her hands to expel negative chi through her torso. “What will happen?”

“Myron is a stickler for tradition, however, I doubt he will disqualify you for slaking Koen’s ... lusts. If we spin it to seem as if he, ah, planned a seduction when you were vulnerable....”

“Won’t Koen be in trouble?”

“Nikolai has deflowered more virgin Chosen than there are drops of water in rain. He is still alive. What do you think will happen to Koen?” Daniil shrugged it off. “The Dragon King is too powerful to challenge.”

“There are a few Dragon Lords who could hurt him in a fair challenge. Mikhail is a Phoenix.”

“So is your mate.”

Marina pressed the heel of both palms to her forehead.

She was uncomfortable with casting a sinister light on a defining moment in her life – very uncomfortable.

Finding no other solution, she cringed. “I don’t have much choice, do I?”

“The Houses will not stand for a wanton Chosen. They will grudgingly accept a ravished one. Even then I expect repercussions.” After a pause, Daniil nodded, confident. “It will be possible to mitigate. I shall prepare.”

“What business is it of theirs anyway?” Switching to rubbing her temples, she felt a migraine coming on. “How will they even know?” At his wince her stomach clenched. “Wait. The results of these tests aren’t announced, are they?”

“If I say yes will you hit me?”

“Ugh.” Gnashing her teeth, she spun a circle. “We need to go over this again.”

“Do not worry, I shall take care of the details. Relax and–”

“Not good enough. I can’t keep relying on you to do these things for me. You’re my friend, not my lackey. I just need time to process. You’ll meet me at my apartments later?”

Easing from behind the pillar, Daniil caught and rubbed her shoulders. It was mostly to hold her still in case a servant walked past and saw her spinning like a madwoman. Rumours run amuck during such a large gathering of Houses. No one needed to hear of her being so openly upset.

“Of course. Forget it for now. Try to enjoy your meal. Smile so the Courts do not suspect you are troubled.” As her scowl deepened, he rubbed with more vigour. “Come on. Smile. You have waited for an opportunity to see Koen all day. Take comfort from him.”

CHAPTER SIX

Entering the feast, Daniil whispered encouragement at Marina’s back. They separated, heading to opposite ends of the food-laden table snaking through the vast hall, seating hundreds dignitaries, Dragon Lords and their mates.

Marina dropped into her seat and bobbed polite nods at the nobles in her direct line of sight. She fiddled with her water goblet and silverware trying not to look ‘troubled’ as Daniil put it.

She only had three more deadly quests in Aver to complete. Assassins hunted her. Unexplainable, a lusty, growly voice spoke inside her mind at inconvenient moments. She had no clue how to protect her inquisitive best friend at Court, the hostile environment resembling bloody, shark-infested waters. Her son was adjusting, but kept doing weird things that drew unwanted attention like making sharp objects disappear from sight on his person. Starting tornadoes that tore through his rooms leaving behind devastation. Slicing off the thumb of a boy from an opposing House, calling it an accident, and then acting confused when everybody was upset. His rebutting argument when accused of going to far a simple “He will learn to write with the other hand.” On top of this, her meddlesome Sire tried to make up for over two decades of missed parenting and wouldn’t take no for an answer. If one more jewel encrusted necklace appeared on her dresser she was going to hit the roof. She obsessed over a surly Dragon King whose tempter was about as predictable as dynamite. He made her so hot thinking about him derailed her concentration at the most inopportune of times making her seem thick as a brick. Oh, and she was about to be declared to all and sundry as ‘impure’.

Why, there was nothing at all for her to be ‘troubled’ over.

Koen leaned closer. “You look white as a ghost.”

“That’s because I’m no longer a virgin,” she hissed back.

He grinned slyly. The happy emotion invoked by the memory of their frantic coupling died at her tight expression. He did not understanding why this made her upset.

Regent Myron was seated opposite. He smiled indulgently at the couple. “Marina, my physician and I will call upon you at midday tomorrow. That is agreeable?”

Her return smile trembled. “Uhhuh.” Hand shaking, she picked up her goblet and took a gulp of cool water.

Koen studied her, not sure what was going on. She didn’t look sick, just upset. “Are you unwell?”

Paling, she shook her head.

His eyes narrowed. “Then why do you need a physician?”

Lord Tyr sniggered. “Surely you jest, my King. The chastity,” he leered, “of the First Chosen is being assured.” He eyed Marina with evil glee. “You look peaked, Lady Zar.”

“Princess,” Myron corrected. His gaze sharpened on Marina then flickered in realisation. His expression turned wrathful. “Withhold your insinuations, Artur. This is a celebration.”

Jaw clenching, Koen’s sun bronzed complexion leeched of colour until he looked as sickly as Marina felt.

She raised her glass in sympathy. She took another greedy mouthful, wondering where the wine bearers where at. “At least I’m not the only one surprised,” she muttered. Turning to the Dragon Lord seated beside her, she held out her hand. “I’m Marina. You are?”

No older than fifteen the male stared adoringly. He took her hand in his then squeaked.

He turned crimson.

Marina’s lips twitched. “I’m sure that’s not your name.”

“Ryu.” The boy seemed relieved to have spoken normally. His words were hindered by a sigmatism, and made worse by a nervous stammer. “Viktor of House Ryu.”

Koen’s voice was low and hoarse in her other ear. “Marina, I did not realise this would be a problem. When we are on Earth I had no expectations of you following me here. Forgive me.”

Smiling at Viktor, flashing a palm to request he wait a moment, she twisted in her seat to glare at Koen. “Forgive you?”

“I never intended to cause you shame.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about.” She was annoyed at this arrogant ‘male’ reaction. “It takes two. Don’t worry, Koen. Daniil has a plan.” She softened, realising why he’d felt compelled to apologise. “Sorry for snipping at you. I was stunned and took it out on you.”

“I should have remembered.” He rubbed the nape of his neck. “I avoid Aver. I am usually scouting for hiding places at this stage of the tournament.” His jaw clenched. “You should not have to go through this.”

Fighting the urge to dip her fingers in a pitcher wine and scrawl the letter I for ‘impure’ on her forehead, Marina settled. She gave Koen a genuine smile. Dramatics wouldn’t help the situation, and her reaction was making him volatile. “It’ll be fine. Daniil’s all over it.”

“Regardless, I shall come to the examination and explain. Myron will listen.”

“Throwing your weight around isn’t going to help.” She hesitated. Decided he better know all of it sine he’d be asked to verify or deny her claim. “We’re going to say you ravished me. I doubt you’re going to want to be in the same Kingdom let alone the same room when Mikhail and the Regent witness my hysterical sobbing.”

“That,” he began slowly, fighting laughter, “is a dreadful plan.”

She grinned relieved he wasn’t offended. “I suggested telling the truth but Daniil thinks the Courts will look more favourably upon a set upon woman than a wanton one.”

The noise at the table had kept their quiet yet intense conversation under wraps. However their shared laughter and warm smiles drew attention.

Eyes began to turn their way.

Marina steered the conversation to safer waters then left Koen to ponder their latest obstacle.

As she spooned a mound of delicious smelling fish onto her plate, she remembered the Dragon Lord patiently waiting. She offered him the serving ladle. “Smells good, doesn’t it?”

Viktor took the spoon. He flushed deeper as their fingers grazed. “It is my favourite.”

“Tell me,” she airily waved her fork, “how come you’re sitting up at this end with the old folks instead of down there with the young cool people?”

“My Sire.” He sighed. To Marina that forlorn sound said it all. “He wishes me to make connections. Be seen. I am his heir. It has been a long time since our family was connected to the upper Houses.” He shot her an indecipherable look. “Not since the days of Emperor Mikhail and his Treasure Almeria.

Marina nodded politely. It sounded as if there was something else she was supposed to take from his words, but she refrained from asking. It was a pleasant conversation and she wanted it to remain so. “You’re from the Ice Realm. Are you liking the Fire Kingdom?”

“It is hot.” He ran his finger under his collar, easing it away from his throat. His pale, almost colourless hair was damp on his brow, and his milky skin flushed. “Loud. Busy.”

“The Wyvrae Court is that different?”

“There are fewer of us. Compared to the Drackai we ice breathers are smaller in stature and number. There are only a hundred and seventy Houses compared to the three hundred and eight of the fire breathers.”

She blinked. “Has it always been that way?”

He nodded.

“Hold on. The Dragon Lands have gone to war countless times, right?”

Taking a bite of food, he nodded again.

She dropped raw vegetables onto her plate then shook her head. “I’m sorry. It’s confusing me. Do the Wyvrae have more soldiers than the Drackai, but less nobles?”

He sipped watered wine before replying. “No.”

“Then how the hell is the Ice Realm still standing as a separate sovereignty?”

The young Lord drew himself up. Savage pride blazed in his indigo eyes, belied the sweetness of his boyish face. “We are fiercer. Better fighters, and ruthless in battle.” He inclined his head to nod down the table. “You know Lord Daniil, yes? He is considered the finest battle Lord aside from King Raad. His warskill is legendary and he has not even yet chosen to pass into the shadows of the afterlife.” Shifting in is seat he gave Marina a tentative smile. “I understand why First Chosen aim for the Crown, but if I may be bold, I wish you to choose the Wreath.”

“Why?”

Viktor glanced around catching people listening.

Lord Tyr in particular leaned over his bowl until his hair swam in his stew, beady eyes probing.

Narked over the scrutiny, Viktor gave the older Lord a curt look then lowered his voice. “You are not afraid to be different. To be heard. You seem ... trustworthy. Liars run abound in these lands. An honest Queen would be a great blessing to the Realm. She would be cherished. It has been so long since we could love our Queen.”

Fork poised over her plate, Marina stared at him in dismay. The guilt trip she suffered was so heinous she physically felt nauseous.

An honest Queen.

There was no way she could lie to Myron and cover up the truth about what happened between her and Koen.

She’d felt uneasy with the idea in principle, and would have had to fortify herself to carry it out, but weighted with the knowledge that young Lords like Viktor viewed her as a chance for a prosperous future that eradicated the treachery rife within the Dragon Courts convinced her she’d fall flat on her face while lying.

She’d end up sobbing a confession. It would screw matters more than they already were.

The truth was Koen Raad hadn’t seduced her. She’d been an eager participant the entire way. Hell, she remembered ripping parts of his clothing off with her teeth.

“Your integrity inspires me.” She leaned forward whispering, “I would be proud to have you in my Court.” Settling back, she winked, and tucked into her food.

Viktor beamed. He raised his goblet silently toasting the goddess as he drained it.

Perhaps his prayers had been answered.

The rest of the meal continued without drama.

Marina found her mind occupied with thoughts of the Ice Realm and its people. She was more certain than ever the Wreath was meant for her.

Would the Wyvrae welcome her differences as sincerely as Viktor? What if they refused to accept change?

Marina was vaguely aware of Koen making attempts to talk, but even his presence couldn’t disperse her cluttered thoughts. Sitting next to her Dragon King was less enjoyable than she thought it would be. Eyes were upon them at every moment and it was kind of stressful.

Shovelling tasteless meat into his mouth, Koen grew irritated with Marina’s emotional distance. He eventually became more frustrated with his inability to draw her out of it. He had ideas, but the quandary was how to drag her across his lap and kiss her senseless without drawing additional attention to their end of the table. Not really possible. Worse, he couldn’t offset his desire to feel her mouth pressed to his with seductive teasing or lingering glances. Their chairs were too far apart, and the table too low for any sly caresses.

He ended up satisfying himself by inhaling the delicate notes of her scent, enjoying the richness of her laughter when the youngling to her other side made witty observations about the pretentiousness of the Drackai Court.

Koen had nursed suspicions Marina developed a fascination with the Ice Realm for a while.

Her pointed questions about the land and its ways confirmed it.

Truly, he didn’t know how to feel about her preference. He’d come from a House of fire breathers. Though he was a Phoenix with the combined abilities of fire and ice, he knew he primarily relied on dragonfire. While his Dragon knew every dip and curve of the Fire Kingdom the Ice Realm was completely unknown to him. He could barely remember the last time he visited the Wyvrae Court or paid address to any of the noble Houses. Daniil kept him informed of any serious issues from that part of Tzion.

He’d never seen a problem with the arrangement until Marina showed interest in the Wreath.

Could he live so far from the Kingdom he considered home? All the Dragon Lands were his territory, so his Dragon should thrive in the Realm as well as in the Kingdom. Could he be so unfeeling as to ask Marina to vie for the Crown instead of the Wreath? She already did so much for them, for him. To ask anymore would be heartless. But surely she didn’t wish to live on a flat of ice where there was nothing but freezing water and frigid wind?

Koen peered into his goblet and mulled over his future. He abruptly fought a smile. Come fire or ice, he’d follow his Treasure anywhere.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Marina paced her chamber. Her gaze repeatedly darted to the transparent screen that led to her private hallway.

Disapproving, Cathryn crossed her arms under her bosom. “I find all of this suspicious. Have you ingested any strange substances? Did the Dragon King give you any strange foods? Have you blacked out for interminable periods of time?”

“Koen isn’t drugging me, Cat.”

“Well, can’t say I feel sorry for you then. You brought this on yourself.”

“Don’t preach to me. Didn’t you pop your cherry five years ago?”

“That’s different.” Pink dusted her cheeks. “Geoffrey and I were in love.”

“Please.” Marina rolled her eyes then stiffened. “Wait. And you think I’m not in love with Koen?”

“I think you’re besotted.”

“And him?”

“Infatuated. Blindly.” She paused. “The man looks at you as if the sun shines out of your arse.”

“Oh, but it does.”

“You’re funny. I would have said he wants to get in your pants, but you didn’t exactly make yourself unavailable. You kind of stalked the bloke across dimensions.”

“Is it against the law to want someone so badly you’d do anything?”

“Not where we’re from. Apparently it is here when that includes forgetting common sense and doing the nasty on the side of a mountain like a pair of randy goats.”

Marina opened her mouth to deliver a bitchy retort. Stilling, she snapped it shut. Cathryn had struck upon an utterly simple and brilliant truth.

Missing Marina’s epiphany, Cathryn fussed with the silver embroidery decorating the overlarge sleeves of her dress. “I can see why. He’s tall, sickeningly good looking, and he has a magnetic quality. All these Dragon Lords have an eminence that captures the soul of a woman, but even I admit the Dragon King has an extra special kind of sexual allure. Well, maybe except for, um....”

Marina stared at her friend. A crafty smile split her face. “You like somebody.”

Panic streaked across Cathryn’s features. “Don’t even.”

“You’ve fallen into crush.”

“Have bloody not. I’m not crushing on anybody. Zip it.”

“Oh, Kitty Cat. I’m so onto you. Who is it? Daniil?” Tapping her bottom lip, Marina dismissed the notion. “Too obvious. Nikolai? You realise he’s a slag, right? Totally lovable, but ruts with any female whose skirts aren’t nailed to the ground.”

“Shouldn’t you be focusing on the problem of your missing hymen?”

There was a discreet knock at the screen. It slid open. Daniil slipped inside closing it behind him. “Have you perfected what you’re going to say? Oh.”

Brow quirking, Cathryn shot a suspicious look between them. “Sneak into this room often, do you?”

Pulling up short, Daniil rearranged his face into a coolly formal expression. “Apologies for the intrusion. I was delayed by an unexpected engagement, or I would have visited at a far less conspicuous hour.” He paused. “I assumed the Princess was alone.” His blue eyes flashed a questioning look at Marina then returned to rest on the other woman. Annoyance tightened his lips. “I shall return later.”

“No need. Cat’s my friend. She can hear it all.”

“Best friend,” Cathryn added, flicking her hair over her shoulder. Her eyes sparked with challenge. “So it’s perfectly acceptable for me to be in this room alone with Rina late at night.” Her tone inferred the reverse concerning him was not true.

“As Marina’s battle guide, royal advisor, friend, and close family member,” Daniil laid it on thick, his accent deepening with his rising anger, “I am well within rights to be here. At any hour of my choosing.”

“Somehow, I don’t think the Dragon King would agree.”

“Koen is aware of my special relationship with his Treasure and the concessions such intimacy requires.”

“Intimacy? Exactly how ‘special’ is this relationship you have unlimited night time access to his fiancés bedroom?”

Overlooking the hostility between her friends, Marina sprawled out on the bed.

Was it sexual tension?

Even if it weren’t, they would simply have to get along.

There was too much other stuff going on for the people of her new and old life to vie for points in pissing contests.

Dragging a pillow over, Marina cuddled it to her chest. She stared at the craggy ceiling of volcanic rock.

Her muddled thoughts were becoming clearer. She had a plan. The hard part would be convincing Daniil she wasn’t trying to self-destruct.

Realising Cathryn and the Dragon Lord were still bickering, she interrupted. “I won’t do it.”

“Do it?” Daniil echoed.

“Lie.” She sat up gripping the pillow. “It would be wrong. Morally. I spend so much time going on about how underhand and vile the gentry here is, and at the first sign of scandal what do I do? Lie.” She shook her head. “I have to draw the line right now and make a stand. If I stoop to their level how can I hold myself to a higher standard?” Her lip curled in a sneer. “I’ll end up no better then Katya.”

Cathryn flashed a palm. “Who is Katya?”

“Heinous bitch who made moves on Koen and plotted my murder.”

“She’s still a threat?”

“She was disqualified from Aver before the preliminary quest.” Marina paused. She was finally able to recall the kiss between Koen and Katya without choking on violent emotion. She only got really mad now. “Koen dealt with it.” Him holding Katya as she pressed her lips to his was burned on the back of her retinas.

With hindsight the reasons why he allowed it were clear. He’d been protecting her by getting Katya disqualified.

Her own actions at the time with Daniil were far less noble.

She’d actually believed Koen’s affections wavered towards her opponent, and let her developing friendship with Daniil overshadow her true attraction for Koen.

“Now is not the time to allow a lofty sense of honour ruin what can still be a successful campaign for the throne.” Troubled, Daniil advanced further into the room. “Occasionally circumstances compel us to perform acts that are ugly and morally repugnant. It is a fact those in our position learn to accept. So must you.”

“Marina and the word ‘throne’ in the same sentence.” Cathryn staggered then slumped into a high-backed chair. “I just got chills.”

Tossing Cathryn an irritated look, Daniil sank onto the mattress. He touched Marina’s bare ankle. “I have thought hard on this. I see no other way. What happened to your purity is irreversible, but your reputation is salvageable.”

Marina plucked at the edge of the pillow. A feather came loose in her hand, and she blew it across the room. “There’s no changing my mind. No lies.”

“It would not be a lie per say.”

“And no omissions, equivocations or misdirection’s. The truth.”

“The truth will see you heckled by your peers.” His grip tightened. “It will make you a pariah. It will make you fair game to any lusty Dragon Lord brave enough to fight for ownership. That would provoke Koen into perpetual rage.” Daniil gave up trying to wheedle and went for the throat. “The truth will see you fail.”

“It will be my weapon, a formidable one.” Marina was shaken, but there was no changing her course. Her principles had to remain solid or she’d end up as crooked as the rest. “I won’t bend. Koen deserved a mate strong enough not to be corrupted.”

“You would rather break?” At her nod, Daniil averted his gaze. He was grudgingly impressed. “What you desire is brave. It makes me proud to my soul. But you are not dealing with honourable aristocrats who will be awed by the courage of honesty. They will declare you unsuitable. Myron will yield. You will be disqualified from Aver. Koen will be lost to you.”

“Because a virgin Queen is tradition.”

“Yes.”

“And law.”

“Ye–” Daniil faltered. A calculating gleam swept across his expression. “Law?”

“On earth law and tradition are two distinct differences,” Cathryn said. She slid a smile Marina’s way. She finally understood why she was confident in her chosen path despite its risks to her future happiness. “Tradition may see you shunned, but there are no legal repercussions. There would be nothing to stop Rina entering, say, a contest. Even if her competitors hated her.”

“I may have unknowingly trampled over a highly regarded tradition. There’s nothing I can do about that now. Was my intimacy with Koen against the law?”

Marina watched his face carefully. She puffed with satisfaction when it creased in wonder.

“From memory I can think of no specific diktat that says it is.” Struggling to hide his excitement, Daniil released her ankle to rub both his knees. “The truth as a weapon. I have spent so many years in the quest for truth amidst lies that using it as a means of offense escaped me.” He rose and headed to the screen, stride brisk with purpose. He paused then faced them. “The magistrate resides in the bowels of the Citadel. I will return before Myron visits you in the morning.”

Relieved she didn’t need to ask for him to verify her deductions, Marina gave him thumbs up. She would have gone herself, but she was exhausted. “I’ll be waiting.”

Grinning broadly, he shook his head. His expression was radiant despite his disbelief. “Truth as a weapon. So clever.”

As the screen slid quietly behind him, Cathryn clucked. “You have these men wrapped around your finger.”

“Daniil and I understand each other.”

“You’re very in tune with each other. Thoughts. Needs. Movements.”

Yawning, Marina met the baldly accusing gaze burning into the side of her head. “Friends,” she enunciated.

“Koen Raad is the one you want?”

“Madly.”

“Explain why? Make me understand, because from where I’m standing all of this is unbelievably stupid. How could you come here and let these people treat you this way? Like you’re a thing.”

Rather than chafe at the interrogation, Marina let her arms collapse and fell back into the soft sheets.

This was Cathryn’s way. Always had been, and always would be. She had a mothering streak Marina indulged because who didn’t like to feel protected and loved?

“Where to begin? Koen’s strong, and brave, and so damnably hot he burns me up. I put up with the crap they dump on me because he is waiting on the other side.”

Sighing, Cathryn rose from her seat and crawled onto the bed. She cupped Marina’s face. “Lust fades, sweetie. Is this worth your life?”

“So can love.” Marina rubbed Cathryn’s arm soothingly. “That doesn’t stop people getting married and trying to make it stick.”

“I’m not convinced.”

“It’s different here. You haven’t seen the Dragon Council standing on their plinths.”

“What do they have to do with anything?”

“The Dragon Council are Phoenixes who once were Emperors. They had Chosen.... What?”

“You’ve lost me already.” Her hands fell to her lap. “Chosen?”

“I’m one. Chosen are the female offspring of Dragon Lords.”

Expression guarded, Cathryn was slow to respond. “Are you trying to tell me in a roundabout way you can turn into a giant lizard?”

Marina hesitated. That was another conversation entirely. One she hadn’t even had with herself. Because at this point all she had were two occurrences of strange behaviour explainable by stress, and her overactive imagination. “It’s known that only males have the ability to shift form. Chosen are just dragonlike. Aggressive. Territorial. Stubborn.”

“That explains so much. Okay, so Phoenix’s have Treasures – these Chosen.”

“All Dragon Lords have Chosen, well, a better way to say it is they mate with Chosen to have children. Some do marry full human women if they fall in love.” Marina tried to make herself as clear as possible so Cathryn didn’t freak out over what she revealed next. “The women who feel compelled to mate with the Dragon King are named as First Chosen. They compete in Aver to win the Crown or Wreath. As Queen they defeat their Dragon Mate in a vicious rite of single combat. Either the Phoenix is defeated and made Emperor, or the Phoenix rejects its weak mate and, um, kills her. They call it the Hunt.”

“I beg your bloody pardon? Koen might kill you?”

“It sounds bad said like that.”

“There’s no way to dress it up, Rina.”

“You’ve got to understand the Empress is oath sworn to protect her Dragon Mate. Koen must submit to me. I can’t protect him if he feels dominant.”

Cathryn blinked. Her face slackened. “It’s a matriarchal society.”

Pleased she began to understand, Marina nodded.

“You would never think it. The men are so overtly aggressive and the women almost subservient. It pissed me right off when I arrived. You just assume the men are the ultimate authority, but the Hunt means the ultimate authority goes to a female.”

“That’s why the brutality of the Hunt is so significant. It establishes to Koen’s Dragon that it can be defensive of me, but ultimately that it’s my job to shield him. We’re equals until he is threatened. Then the balance shifts in my favour.”

“So it’s a fake fight?”

“No. It’s very real. Koen will come at me with everything he has. I have to best him with my superior warskill. I must prove I’m strong enough to protect him, even from himself. He’s Tzion’s greatest hope, a defence against the horror of war. As his mate my love will be absolute. I will keep him safe.”

Pale and shaky, Cathryn clasped her hands into fists. “Marina. This is.... If Koen’s Dragon is even close to the size of Mikhail’s-”

Marina cut her off before she started ranting. Telling her Koen’s Dragon made Mikhail’s look puny in comparison wasn’t worth the stress it would cause.

“I’ve been trained to kill Dragon Lords. You didn’t see me during the first quest. It was brutal, but I survived. Mother trained me from birth, and I didn’t even realise. Why do you think she was always so strict?”

“Because Almeria was a stone cold bitch who forced her daughter into dangerous situations creating a needy overachiever?”

“Um, ouch? My Mother was Empress. If anyone knew when I needed it was her. I’ve told you a million times she was different with me when we were alone. Softer.” Marina sighed. “I can do this. Koen will surrender to me. You’ll see.”

Cathryn twined a lock of hair around her finger, expression intense. “So you believe he will always love you. Once Aver is finished, you win the Hunt, and everything is normal, you trust Koen Raad never to stray or get bored?”

“Yes. Chosen are treasured.”

“What makes them special? The Phoenixes. What makes them different from the other Dragon Lords? Are they born or is it like a title?”

“They can breathe dragonfire and dragonfrost. They possess stronger magicks than normal Dragon Lords. Supposedly they can be reborn from ashes, see straight into the heart of truth and control wild ones. I’m not sure if those last ones are legends as I’ve never seen Koen do them.” Marina thought back to her first lessons when she’d been voracious in her knowledge about Koen Raad. Her heart fluttered. “They give their heart and soul to their Treasure. Forever. Dragon’s choose to die, Cat. They have no natural lifespan. Most Phoenixes serve on the Council to impart their knowledge for as long as they can bear then let go of life to join their Treasures in the afterlife.”

“That sounds sweet. And intense.”

“The people here love in a way I can’t fully explain. Knowing Koen and I share the beginnings of what may be such a great love is terrifying. I wouldn’t give up this chance for the world. Is it dangerous? Yes. I’ll survive.”

Cathryn relaxed her face then balled up her hands and tucked them between her thighs. It seemed there was nothing more to say. Nothing would get through to Marina now. “Mikhail is a Council Mon, isn’t he? That means Almeria was his Treasure.”

“Suppose so.”

“Yet she left him.”

Marina shrugged. “She wasn’t happy.”

Cathryn tried to hold her peace but ended up giving a final push. “So it isn’t always happily ever after. Even if you do find true love.”

Marina nodded stiffly.

She didn’t want to talk about Mikhail, or his failed relationship with her mother.

“I wish you knew Koen as I do. He sees people not their station. He respects tradition, but hates the blind faith placed in ceremony. He’s kind, as beautiful inside as out. The rough edges are all anybody bothers themselves with. I feel him, Cat. All the way to my core.”

Cathryn’s gaze unfocused, her voice tinged with worry. “I’m beginning to see how things are here. It’s not like dating. Or even marriage. We’re talking until death. You will be Queen until death. Empress until death, Koen Raad’s mate until death.”

“I want this.”

“You want to be Empress? It took me over a year to get you to sign a rental agreement instead of living out of hotels.”

“I didn’t want to be tied down.”

Cathryn gawked. Punched her arm. “And what do you think ruling an entire Kingdom will do?”

“As Empress I won’t be expected to rule all of Tzion.” Marina rubbed her throbbing bicep. “Just protect Koen as he oversees the peace between the territories.” She cast her memory back for one of the few history lessons she’d had. “The Ice Realm will remain mine, which is good, I want to be the Wyvrae Queen. The city survives for prolonged periods without a monarch so they must have a council of some kind. Probably the upper Houses form a ruling body. Or maybe they have a Regent too. I must ask Daniil–”

“Good gosh.” Cathryn stiffened. “Have you thought about this beyond jumping into bed with Koen officially as his mate?”

Indignant, Marina tossed the pillow at her. “Do you think I’m stupid? Course I have.” She paused. “Koen and I have only been intimate twice, you know, and not once since I’ve been here.” She looked down at her lap hopelessly. She rubbed her thighs in a frantic, restless manner that boarded close to an addict craving a fix. “And let me tell you needing him inside me and being unable to touch him is torture.” She met her friend’s stunned gaze. “Any man can fuck. Koen owns me, Cat. He branded me in this dark, primordial place I can’t touch or explain in any tangible way. This is so much more than sex.”

“Doesn’t sound like it. For a split second I’d thought you’d matured coming here. The deeper I dig the more I reveal the changes are skin deep. You’re still as irresponsible as ever.”

“That’s unfair and untrue. Just because I haven’t gotten each minute detail worked out like an obsessive compulsive doesn’t mean I’m not taking this seriously. I’m conducting research. This is an entirely foreign society. It’ll take time for me to adjust.”

“I don’t see any books.” Cathryn bounced across and off the huge bed. Striding across the room she snatched a shiny trinket from the dresser. “I do see a hell of a lot of jewellery. Silks. Extravagant gifts. Since when do you wear sapphires and rubies as day wear? Since when do you wear jewellery at all, for crying out loud?”

“Stop shouting. Stop judging me when you don’t have half the facts.”

“Go ahead.” Still clutching the dazzling necklace, Cathryn’s fist swept out to encompass the room’s lavish decorations and furnishings. “Explain all of this to me.”

“The jewels come from Mikhail. He hasn’t stopped flinging expensive stuff at me since I’ve arrived. I’m guessing it’s either something to do with not embarrassing him in front of the Dragon Council, or plain old paternal guilt. It’s obviously escaped your insightful self that things habitually become hectic around here. In-between assassination attempts, training for Aver, and political stunts like the purity check, I just about have enough time to get a decent nights sleep let alone review a bunch of dusty tombs I’d have to read in the creepy bowels of this Citadel.” Marina pushed onto her forearms. “And my bedroom before this was a nightmare. I didn’t even have four walls. Cut me some slack.”

“Not until you take your head out your arse and take a look around.”

“What is your problem?”

“You.” Cathryn’s face turned a scary shade of crimson. “As always you are my problem.”

Shocked, Marina’s head snapped back. “What have I done to piss you off?”

“You have no idea, do you?”

“Hence the question, what did I do?”

Her face went impossibly redder and she screamed though clenched teeth. “You left me a babbled voicemail that disconnected mid sentence then you disappeared, you bloody crack pot. You were just gone. I was terrified something happened to you. That we’d find your raped, beaten corpse rotting on the bloody moors.” She panted for more air to yell louder. “Didn’t you even take a moment to think of the people you left behind?”

“But I came back and told you–”

“That you were going camping with a Dragon. A Dragon. A mythical flying lizard.” Cathryn’s voice was flat and tight as she reeled her anger in. “That was supposed to be some kind of approbation of good mental heath? That was supposed to reassure me that you were safe?”

Understanding she actually was blameworthy from Cat’s perspective, Marina’s pitch climbed perilously high. “I am not the villain of this piece.”

“No, you’re just the inconsiderate friend you doesn’t care how many people she tramples to get what she wants.”

Hunching, Marina dropped her chin to her chest. She pressed her lips together to hold back the cuss words that would make the argument worse.

Sometimes, silence was the only way.

And Cathryn wasn’t wrong in her accusations.

“Sorry.” Edging toward the bed, Cathryn tugged Marina’s toes. “That was unfair and bitchy. Blaming you was wrong, but–” She exhaled shakily. “I mourned you, Rina. I thought you dead.”

Marina’s heart sank. She’d put this woman through hell. “There wasn’t time for me return to you. Time here moves differently than back in our dimension. And I suppose being ripped from one dimension into another against your will is sort of lame.” Marina patted her side. “It would make me cranky too.”

“I am not cranky.”

“Alright.”

“Mikhail explained the whole dimensional time slip thing to me. Honestly, I stopped listening after your name came up and I realised I was being taken to you. It helped me get over the shock of talking to actual, well, you know, Dragons.” Cathryn clutched her hand. “Then I just wanted to see you to make sure you were safe. I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too.” Marina squeezed her fingers. “But he shouldn’t have brought you here. I didn’t ask him too.

“Mikhail doesn’t strike me as the kind of male who asks before he acts.” Cathryn smiled knowingly. “Reminds me of somebody I know.”

“I can send you back.” Marina tried to keep the disappointment from her face. “If you really want.”

“I want to make sure you’re settled before I arrange the nightmare of returning home.”

“The passage over is a bit rough.”

“Rough? I nearly fainted.”

Marina snorted. “I did.”

“No!”

“Oh, yes. I fell off Daniil’s back and nearly ended up a smear on the side of AshMount.”

“Gosh.” Cathryn held her hand tighter. How many times had her friend come close to death? How many more times would fate let her slip away? “Over dinner I heard talk of the assassination plots against you. Rumours have started that you want to claim the Crown and rule the, um, fire breathers?”

“I’m going for the Wreath. To rule the Wyvrae.”

Marina smiled at the puzzled tightening of Cathryn’s eyes as she tried to pull a reference of what the Wyvrae were from the wealth of information she’d been inundated with.

“The ice breathers,” she clarified.

“I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m still not seeing how you’re going to do this. I love you, but I know your weaknesses. The administrate responsibilities that come with the appointment of a monarch are pretty extreme. I don’t see how ... uh ... why are you looking at me like that?”

“You’re right. There are aspects on ruling you’re much more suited to than I am. You’re infallibly practical. Sharp. You have a keen eye for detail, which would come in handy when negotiating new treaties with the fire breathers.”

Pleased and flattered, Cathryn lifted her chin.

A predatory glint deepened Marina’s dark eyes. “You’re cunning. Perceptive.”

“Yea–” Cathryn took a large mental step backwards. She stopped playing with hair, and looked for the true meaning behind the compliments. “Whatever scheme has entered your feeble brain discard it.”

“Even if I’m Queen you won’t back down or mince your words. A problem with the aristocracy here is that none of their servants have enough backbone to stand up to them. It’s almost as if the ability to disagree has been bred right out of them.” She made a swopping motion with her hand.

“I’m sure that you’ll find capable staff who will call you on your shit.”

“Like you.”

“Yeah, just like.... Wait. Not me. After I make sure your crazy arse isn’t stabbed to death, I’m taking my fine self home. This place is not feminist friendly.”

“You’d truly leave all this behind?”

“All what? The testosterone in that throne room nearly choked me. I’m barely keeping my shit together as it is. Besides, you know I’m up for a promotion at work.”

“You’d turn down a job as Regent of my queendom to manage a clothes boutique?”

“How many times do I have to tell you I work for a multi-million pound fashion designer?”

“Semantics.”

“I’m CFO!”

“Then you can manage my treasury. It’s perfect.”

Cathryn froze. “I beg your pardon?”

“When I’m Empress, the Ice Realm will still be mine. Koen prefers the lagoon waters to the ice plains. Someone must rule when I’m gone. My extended vacations are unavoidable. Koen needs seclusion.” Her voice lowered conspiratorially and her eyes twinkled. “He’s a bit of a loner. Anyway, I trust no one more than you and Daniil to take care of my people when I’m gone.” Her expression turned smugly satisfied. “See how well I delegate?”

“I know nothing about ruling a territory, Rina. Nothing.”

“Daniil does. And you can learn. I am. I learn a lesson about how to be a good leader everyday.”

Cathryn screwed up her face. “Is this some kind of demented fix up? Marina, listen carefully. I am not crushing on Daniil.”

“Are you suggesting I’d give you power of hundreds of thousands of people just to hook you up with an amazing catch?”

Cathryn’s dry expression said that was exactly what she expected.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Marina woke alone.

Cathryn slinked off to her own rooms sometime in the night, shoving Marina’s sprawled limbs off her. They’d reminisced for most of the night and early morning hours before falling into a deep sleep.

Marina dozed for a few hours until the sunlight streaming into the room became too bright to ignore.

Pasha bustled in ordering a group of servants to arrange a bath. Hot water was poured into a wooden tub set in the corner behind a linen screen.

The bathhouse was nice, but the nobles developed a horrible habit of cornering her while washing.

It was difficult to remain aloof while naked holding a soapy rag over your breasts and crotch.

Marina stretched luxuriously.

“Up,” Pasha demanded. “The Regent has already visited Houses Vor and Tyr. He’ll be here soon.”

Marina froze in the act of itching the side of her neck. Her eyes popped open. The problems of the night before rushed back and she groaned.

Pulling the silky sheets over her head, she burrowed deeper into the soft mattress. “Kill me now.”

“Up!” Pasha yanked the covers to the foot of the bed then snagged Marina’s ankle. She dragged the younger woman to the end of the bed, helped her sit then finally stand. “Here we go. One foot in front of the other.” She fondly patted Marina’s rump. “I shall ready your armament.”

Trudging across the tatami mats, Marina scratched the small of her back, right above her butt cheek. “No dress robes. Not today. I want leathers and a tunic.”

“Ceremonial dress will not only show the proper respect for the Regent, but for the sanctity of your purity affirmation.”

That the older women expected her to be a virgin rankled.

Since arriving in the Dragon dimension Marina felt nothing but inadequate.

The impending rite grated badly on her pride. It provided another reason for people to mock, pity or scold her. She didn’t regret her intimacy with Koen, and hated she was forced to defend it as if it were immoral.

“You might want to leave when the Regent gets here. I don’t think you’ll like what I have to say to the physician.”

“Treating this ritual as joke is beneath you. Wholesomeness in a Chosen is vital. It is a matter of honour.”

Marina spun, hair sticking on end and eyes gritty with sleep. She snarled. “Tunic. Leathers. Now.” Twisting away from the woman’s stunned expression, she stomped to the steamy bath.

She shed her nightclothes so forcefully the jade emblem nestled between her breasts bounced against her skin. It was a specially commissioned piece, a union of Houses Raad and Zar.

Tossing the lot over the screen, she jumped into the tub.

Splashing flower-scented water onto the floor, she held onto the side of the rub and dunked her head under the bobbing flowers.

She opened her eyes and peered at the ornate ceiling through the rippling water and flora. Her lungs burned before she gave into the urge to jerk up.

She slicked her growing hair back and pinched her nose, squeezing her eyelids shut as water sluiced down her face.

Feeling calmer, she reached for the soap and lathered a rag until creamy suds enveloped her hands.

She made quick work of cleaning away the grime of the day before and soon dressed in fresh smelling leather and cotton. She left her hair to air dry, running her fingers through it in an attempt to tame it.

Annoyed, Marina wouldn’t let the now nervous Pasha near her. She curled her lip warningly when the woman minced closer holding a pot of glossy lip paint.

It was illogical to hold the woman to account for her presumption, but Marina felt her resentment justified.

Pasha had no right to make an assumption then chide her without having the sensitivity to ask if she was chaste, knowing she had grown in an entirely different culture.

Marina pressed her eyes shut, rubbed her temples. Already she stressed.

Dealing with the Regent would drain her patience, and she could only hope she didn’t run out before he left. Insulting him was a big no, no.

Something nudged at her booted foot.

Pasha was folded in half, pressing her forehead to the mats. “Forgive my trespass.”

“Oh, pack it in. I shouted at you. It’s not an excuse to fall apart.” Marina pulled the woman onto her feet. “I’m pissed, but not at you. Well, a bit at you, but mostly at the world in general. I’m not a virgin, Pasha. It upset me you were condescending when you alluded to women who are intimate with men they aren’t married to.”

Blinking rapidly, the old woman jolted as if struck. “How could you do that to the Dragon King? Give yourself to another. Who would you possibly....” She paled, aghast. “Lord Kol.”

“There you go again, assuming and getting it wrong. I gave my virginity to Koen Raad months ago.”

“But the ceremony–Aver–Regent Myron....”

“Whole sentences please.”

Teetering to the side, the woman groped for a stable surface to hold. “You will disqualified. Disgrace will fall upon House Zar. We shall have to veil our faces in shame. Peasants will curse us as we pass through the streets. Oh, Goddess.”

Marina led her to a seat rubbing her back. “Calm the fuck down. Nothing bad will happen, I promise.”

Trembling, Pasha made a pitiful noise showing exactly what she thought of the reassurances. She still managed a faint rebuke of, “Language, Princess,” before she descended into monosyllabic pleas to her goddess.

“Your faith in me is touching.” Marina crossed her arms. “Seriously. You’re projecting the warmest, fuzziest feelings of despair and anguish I’ve ever felt.”

Sighing, she kissed the rambling woman’s brow and allowed her space to reassemble composure.

Pasha’s reaction just made the wait for Myron more fraught.

Just when Marina thought she’d tear her hair out, Daniil slipped into the room. His gaze locked with hers. He stood so still, his expression so guarded she feared the worst.

He held up both thumbs, mimicking her gesture from the night before.

Relief burst through her fretting leaving her legs wobbly. Letting them fold beneath her, she plopped onto a cushion bordering her personal seating area.

The grouping of low chairs and floor cushions were set aside for entertaining during tea ceremonies. Not that she ever gave them. Mostly she and her family used the area for meals.

Brows lifting, Daniil jerked his head towards Pasha who moaned as if in pain, her face buried in her hands.

Rolling her eyes, Marina shook her head telling him to leave it, waving him over.

Excited by what he’d discovered, Daniil sank onto the cushion beside her. He laughed softly when she grabbed him in a rib-bruising hug.

“Thank you so much.” Rocking side to side, she held him as if he were a lifeline. “I admit after I gave you my little speech I got cold feet. Cathryn sat on me half the night to stop me from running to tell you I’d changed my mind.”

“I’m glad. This will work, Marina.” He patted her back. “Remain strong. Myron will be troubled, disapproving even, but he will appreciate how difficult this is for you. He was once King and in love. He understands the intense attraction between mates.”

She eased from the hug smiling. “I feel better. I–”

A bell chimed, and the entrance screen slid open so fast the wooden rails smoked faintly.

Exuding power, his expression thunderous, Regent Myron stood on the other side practically vibrating with anger. He stepped into the room and his livid gaze landed on Marina.

Dark brows lowered ominously, the Dragon King entered behind him.

Koen Raad strode into the office of the Regent. Vibrant green eyes gravely scanned the lavish scarlet and gold surroundings. He halted in the middle of the room, bare feet sinking into the padded tatami.

Humid vapour rose from the dense jungle, but the room was located at the zenith of the Red Citadel allowing a chill breeze to sweep through the open windows and countered the moist warmth.

Clean sweat dampening Koen’s body from his exertions over the lagoon dried. Goosebumps prickled across his exposed flesh as he crossed his arms over his chest. The obsidian fall of his mohawk dangled between his shoulder blades, tickling bronzed skin.

A cavernous rumble shook the walls. Sweltering heat infused with the bitter tang of sulphur choked the air as a gush of red and black lava rushed past the window.

Globules of the luminous liquid pooled on the window ledge.

Wild ones roared in the distance as tremors from the volcanic eruption rippled down the mountains.

Feeling a return cry swell within his restless soul, Koen dug deep for patience and pressed his heels deeper into the sea-grass. He focused his irritable mind on the gentle abrasion teasing the soles of his feet.

After another endless span of nothing, he sighed noisily at the male forcing him to wait.

Myron said nothing.

His attention remained fixed on arranging his papers. He occasionally paused to stroke the snow-white length of his full beard, or adjust the trailing sleeve of his elaborately embroidered robe.

Rearing jade dragons supported the solid slab of mahogany wood he hunched over. The desk’s sanded surface gleamed with wax. Behind the richly carved monstrosity was a great parchment decorated with calligraphy that lyrically denoted Myron’s ascension to Emperor and his love for his mate, a woman renowned for grace and beauty.

Marina was preceded by a legend. Myron’s Treasure had been beloved by the people before her untimely demise.

Thrumming with subdued vigour, Koen waited until the stately Keeper of the Kingdom languidly sanded the wet ink on a piece of parchment he’d signed with his mark.

As much as he wanted to rage, Koen was keenly aware this particular male was immune to his special kind of intimidation. Tact not dominance would advance his objective to the only conclusion he would accept.

“Storming through the halls naked yet again, boy?”

Blithely glancing down his muscular form, Koen’s broad shoulders lifted and fell. “Garments are not important. What I have come to say is.”

“Have you forgotten all I taught you?” Pausing his task, Myron’s bushy brows winched, accentuating his wrinkled forehead. “I raised you as my own. Familiarity is welcomed, but I am still your elder. Knock before you enter my domain.”

Molars grinding, Koen swallowed the cutting response he answered to no one. He bowed his head in acquiesce. “I come to ask for leniency.” He hesitated, bowing lower. Modesty will not harm my cause when it is well known I abhor it. “I need you to not judge her.” He swallowed past the thickness in his gullet. “Understand I love her and stand by her in all things. She is mine. I will not give her up. Crown, Wreath or peasant non la, I will marry her.”

Stilling, Myron’s gaze slowly lifted. The parchment rolled closed as he sat back. “I see.”

Koen fought panic tooth and claw at the heavy regret weighting the words. He grated the rest through clenched teeth. “I bedded my Treasure.”

Eyes closing briefly, Myron nodded. “I know. You failed to hide your distress at the feast.” The old male laced his hands over his stomach. His eyes glimmered with sadness. “There is nothing I can do.”

“Look the other way.”

“That is not how this shall be, Koen Raad, Dragon King. Have forgotten who you are and what you mean to so many? Law and tradition hold the predators of this land from tearing our society apart. You know this. I am held accountable not only by the innocent of this land, but by my own convictions.” Myron placed a hand on the desk, bracing himself. “She is unworthy.”

“Do not.” Koen snarled pacing the mats. His fingers curled into fists. “Do not dare. Speak against my Treasure and I will kill you.”

Anger darkened Myron’s refined features. “I will not be threatened.”

“You would have me hate you?”

Harrumphing, the Regent tossed his head. “Actions have consequences. You must have known this day would come. How could you not? A High Princess, taken like a commoner. I vow, you shame me and all that we stand for.” Myron slammed his palm to the desk. The crack of sound loud in the quiet room. “What in the name of the goddess were you thinking?”

“She was to remain in the human world.” Koen threw his hands in the air. “My life has been spent running from females who want nothing but to own me. She was so open, so beautiful. Kind. My desire for her is beyond anything I have felt, and it grows.” He let the blossoming love he carried in his heart overflow in his words. “She is the air to me. The sun. Myron, she has become my existence.”

“Ah.” The old male’s composure cracked. “I remember this feeling. The early days when I found my beloved....” His breathing coarsened. He forlornly shook away the memories. The veil of tears obscuring his vision did not shame him. “She is your Treasure.” The words held a wealth of understanding.

Koen rubbed the heel of his palm to his chest. “Do not tell me there is nothing you can do.”

Reality was often cruel. “We are done here.”

“Do not do this.”

Pushing onto his feet, Myron straightened his papers, corked his ink, and put away his writing tools.

He ignored his shaking hands.

Emotion could play not part in his decision-making. He snuffed the incense burning on his desk and waved away the thin spiral of fireberry-scented smoke. “It is not I who have done this. Look to yourself and your lover.”

Heart pounding wildly, Koen wasn’t too proud to plead, not to his mentor for his Treasure. “Please.”

Startled, Myron froze.

A lengthy sigh eked past his lips and his body slumped. His exasperation deflated only to be replaced with sorrow.

He glided around the desk and stopped not a foot from the Dragon Lord he’d raised from infancy, as was tradition. “There is no fighting this. It is done.”

“It will change nothing. Nothing will keep us apart.” Koen struggled to regulate his breathing. He was too emotional, he knew, but panic was a constant companion where his Treasure was concerned. It bedevilled him he could not keep her close at all times to know she was safe. “I will fight for her.”

“So be it.” Myron was placid. “Come.” He paused at the grandiose partition to whisper something to a guard who then took off in haste.

They walked silently through the halls until they reached the floor holding rooms for the members of House Zar.

Myron chortled as they passed another maid who gasped and swooned in Koen’s naked wake. “Will you not clothe your nakedness?”

“Marina has seen me bare.”

The old male flicked him a stern glance. “It is unseemly.”

“I care not.”

“Spare my aged eyes the ghastly sight of youth. Adorn yourself. Before I do it. As I did when you were a youngling.”

Smoke billowed from Koen’s nostrils. As a youngling, he’d wanted nothing more than to fly and play. Myron insisted he wear ornate robes whenever he was in human form. It irritated him no end, as he had to pause to magick them away whenever he gratefully succumbed to the need to wear his dragonskin. When he’d grown older and refused to bother, Myron began conjuring the clothes onto his person from a distance. Humiliating. “Fine.”

He clothed himself, and grunted when the older male chuckled. Myron noticed how he grimaced, and tugged at his leathers to ease the restraint against the heavy ache in his groin. He was going to see his Treasure. Arousal was inevitable.

They passed Boy, Cathryn then Mikhail’s stately rooms before coming to Marina’s.

Claws of desire scraped along his thighs and hips when his nose captured a faint tease of her scent. Koen grew edgy. The dark slashes of his eyebrows lowered into a glower.

No matter what Myron decided he would not give Marina up.

Being disqualified would shame her, but any who dared mock her would feel the bite of his flame, the cut of his ice.

He heard Daniil’s deep timbre as they halted outside the painted screen.

Marina’s sultry voice and husky laughter made his heart clench.

If only I could spare her this.

“The physician has been cancelled?” he asked gruffly. “I wish to lessen her embarrassment. There is no need for her to endure his examination.”

“Yes, yes,” Myron snapped. “Khan knows he is not needed. Where do you think I sent the messenger?” He drew himself up. “I am furious, Koen, to be forced into this position. I have no desire to harm this young woman.” He palmed the screen, paused to ring the bell then marched into the room. His robes swept behind him in a fan of gold silk. Snow white locks fluttered about his wizened face. “Marina Zar. Stand before me.”

Sat in a pool of golden light, Marina’s gaze jumped from where it fastened on Koen to Myron. She squeezed Daniil’s knee then did as she was bid.

“Regent.” Expression cool, she dipped her head. “Having a pleasant morning?”

Thrown off guard, Myron gathered a fold of his robe in his hand. “It has become trying. The reason of which you are aware.”

Icy façade cracking, she sank her upper teeth into the lushness of her bottom lip. “I don’t see a physician.”

“Out of respect for your Sire, I will do my best to see the particulars of this matter contained.”

Her lips curved. “How redundant. It won’t be hard to deduce what happened in here. A disqualification after a mystic checks for virginity is pretty self explanatory.”

Myron’s stance softened. “It is all I can do.”

“Sit with us?” Marina didn’t wait for an answer. She moved to Koen’s side, and waited for him to hold her. Her dark eyes filled with emotion, and he was intensely aware of her drawing in his scent, reacting to it by shifting even closer. “Hello, trouble.”

Slipping his hands around her waist, Koen buried his nose in her hair. This was where he belonged. “I am sorry.” His voice roughened. He lowered further and rubbed his entire face into her neck gathering her scent upon his skin. It was as much for his comfort as hers. “We will get through this.”

She tiled her head back, and her smile was filled with adoration he didn’t deserve. There was no anger or fear in her eyes. The soft shimmer of affection was a balm.

He stole a kiss.

Another when she possessively cupped his throat then led her to the seating area over the far side of the room.

Taciturn, Myron cut to the point. “I have no wish to prolong this.”

“Understandable.” Remaining close to his side, Marina folded her legs under her bottom. “It’s not the most comfortable topic. Embarrassing as hell to be frank.”

Myron’s gaze was sympathetic, but his voice cracked like a whip when he spoke. “High Princess Marina Zar. You are herby disqualified from Aver.”

“Ugh.” She shuddered delicately. “As a proud overachiever, I’ve got to say that stung.” Leaning into Koen’s side, aggrieved, she shook her head. “Excuse me, Regent, because there is no way to phrase this without sounding like an arrogant bitch, but I’m not.” She paused. “Disqualified, that is.”

“It is not a suggestion. My ruling is final unless....” He looked between them meaningfully. “Do you mean to dispute you have been intimate with the Dragon King? Such a claim will be verified.”

“I freely admit Koen and I slept together. Sorry if that offends you. I was raised in a culture where people express their love physically when they’re ready.” Her eyes grew liquid, hazy with memory, her smile private. The lines of her body softened further pressing into him. “And we were ready.”

Enchanted, Koen brushed the back of his hand across her collarbone.

Her complexion was luminous with love.

What male didn’t feel moved when his woman glowed at the memory of their joining?

Unhappy with the state of affairs, Myron gathered his scattered wits. Clearly he was resigned to his duty. He averted his gaze from her blissful expression. It aggravated him felt he intruded. “I understand you love him. That he found you means everything to me. Knowing your affection for each other I am pained to do this. Yet, I am bound. I must uphold the laws of this Kingdom. Know I am saddened. I suffer for you.”

“I haven’t broken any law. You have no grounds to disqualify me.”

“Chosen must be untouched to participate in Aver. With respect, Princess, you are unchaste.”

Offended, Koen growled.

“He said nothing that isn’t true.” Marina rubbed the strong cut of his jaw. “Calm for me?”

Mollified, Koen distracted himself from the harrowing conversation by luxuriating in the feel of her warm body moulded to his. He watched, captivated, as golden sunlight deepened the blue highlights in her dark hair, and fingered the lustrous strands.

Having her so close contentment soothed his Dragon, yet a feeling of anticipation excited him.

Soon Aver would be over and he needn’t temper his touch. The lust that flared from his kiss could be slaked unchecked. She would be his. He would forever be hers.

Koen Raad had found his Treasure and would cherish her to the end of his days.

Giving her up was out of the question, and he would rage as never before if they thought to take her from him.

“I shall leave you now.” The Regent gradually rose, feeling his years in his bones. Dragon Lords may be immortal, but without their Treasures they tended to age much like any other living creature. “There is much to be done.”

Marina stilled him with an intense look. “You can not disqualify me over this. I broke no laws. Virgin Queens are traditional. Nowhere in your written laws does is it a requirement to be a contestant in Aver.”

Straightening to his full height the Regent double blinked.

“Lord Myron, we beg your indulgence.” Daniil smoothly picked up the conversation. His tone brimmed with the respect Marina unintentionally stripped from hers. “The magistrate will verify our argument. We found no relevant law in the Tome of Principle. After millennia of hosting Aver we have muddled law with belief.”

“Impressive and resourceful,” Myron said finally. He regained his seat and relaxed for the first time since entering the room. He even managed a smile that died. “Tradition is law. That is what the Courts will say.”

Unmoved, Daniil didn’t flinch. He shrugged. “Should any House formally protest we shall plead our case before the Dragon Council.”

Snorting, Myron’s response was sardonic. “Who have no impartiality when it comes to this matter.”

The Dragon Council had twisted the Regent’s arm to allow Marina to enter the tournament at so late a date with little training. Sensitive to the pulse of the land, the elderly Phoenixes keenly felt the need for an Emperor to ascend. They would entertain whatever House bore enough of a grudge to bring up formal charges then simply rule in Marina’s favour, ultimately, in Koen Raad’s favour.

Compounding the bias was Marina’s Council Mon Sire. The male was eager to bond with his estranged offspring.

Whether she realised it or not, Marina was treated with preference. The Regent knew it was not her fault. He’d spent little time with her, but an innate goodness emanated from her aura. It was easier to concede than it should have been.

“Very well,” he said affably, foreseeing the gathering storm darkening their future horizon, wondering when it would break.

These small acts of defiance were harmless in isolation, but eventually something would sit too awkwardly with the Courts and the whole thing would crumble. He wished they would see it.

All he could do is warn them and hope for the best.

Marina clapped her hands in finality, forcing her face to brighten. “Are we done?” She shot an appalled look at her servant. “Did you not hear the Regent, Pasha? Quit sobbing.”

Myron was saddened by the young woman’s resentment. It was a palpable wave of energy pushing him away. “I bear you no ill will, Lady Zar. I am exacting because I must be.”

She gave him a soft look of reproach. “You think I don’t know that? Understand the pressure this puts you under?” She sighed wearily. “It’s not you.” Burrowing closer to Koen, she rested her hand on his middle. Petting him soothed her. “The whole thing has made me touchy. Every time I turn around I’m met with something or someone telling me I’m not good enough. I have confidence in my abilities and I’m proud of who I am. I stand by my choices.”

“But?” Koen demanded, hearing doubt it in her tone and disliking it.

Touching his lips, she smiled sadly as their gazes locked. “But there’s only so much one woman can take.”

CHAPTER NINE

Myron left, dragging a surly Koen Raad with him.

Marina sent Pasha away to go surreptitiously take care of her son since she wouldn’t stop sniffling.

Boy detested when she appointed him babysitters, but it was the one thing she wouldn’t bend on. She gave him unlimited freedom to roam alone as long as there was someone assigned to take care of his needs.

She’d allow him concession of choosing his own minder when they got past the dangers of Aver and he was a tad older – like when he turned fifty.

Chastened, Pasha shuffled toward the exit.

Marina huffed a relieved sigh, and as soon as the screen slid closed, she let the mask of serenity fall.

Koen had argued to stay with her.

She’d badly wanted him to, but Myron obviously reached the limit of his blind eye that morning when he started clearing his throat at every touch between them. Or maybe Koen’s rebelliousness in kissing her into a drugged stupor pushed the old male too far.

Whatever the case, the Regent took her man away and left a tender void in its wake.

Moping, she flopped onto a cushion. “Disaster averted.”

“Three more quests, Rina.” Tone optimistic, Daniil patted her bent knee. “Three.”

“Then the Hunt.” She pushed onto her elbows. Her hair was a tousled mess around her flushed face. She could taste Koen on her lips. Salt-spicy male. “You haven’t said much about it.”

“I can tell you past strategies. Think you it will help?”

“Better than nothing.”

“Truly, I cannot tell you how to proceed in this. It is a deeply private chase for each Queen. Each brought her own special ability to the rite, and as you know all but the Treasures failed.”

“Love prevails.” Marina felt giddy with eagerness. She pumped a fist. “As lame as it sounds, it conquers all.”

There was light at the end of the tunnel, and it splayed sunrays all over Koen’s gruff sexiness.

Disconcerted, Daniil double blinked. “It does?”

“Of course. Look at the challenge of Aver itself. It’s brutal to ensure the strongest competitors reach the end, but then it’s the Queen who best loves her Dragon who wins.”

“Love has nothing to do with the Hunt.”

“My interpretation is different to yours.”

Alarmed now, Daniil twisted to face her. “Marina, we are Dragons. Fierce creatures that are territorial and moody. We concede power only to the stronger, even then grudgingly. Koen is no exception to this.”

“You’re listing all his destructive traits.” Expression mischievous, her expressive eyes were alive with certainty. “I know who Koen is, Daniil. I’m not blind to his faults.”

“We are noble but very used to getting our way,” he continued as if she hadn’t spoken. Their stares were locked. “The Empress knows her Dragon’s weaknesses and exploits them to her advantage.”

The statement made her uncomfortable. Exploits? “Daniil....”

“You must overshadow his Dragon. That does not always leave a happy couple.” He peered at her steadily. “It might be some time before he forgives you.”

“Forgives me?” Worried, Marina sat up. Budding dread made her feel unwell. “I’m not following.”

“Yes, you are.” His expression wrinkled with what she was appalled to recognise as pity. “Koen is a dominant male – more so because his Dragon is especially powerful. He seems lenient, but that is because he is the true alpha. He does not care what others think, and that is mistaken for forbearance.” He paused, apprehensive what she envisioned at the conclusion of the tournament was far from reality. “Victory for you will damage him greatly. The fight will be bitter in the end. Koen is difficult when he does not get his way.”

She believed they would fly off into the sunset laughing.

It was likely Koen would disappear to deal with his shattered pride then return to claim her body in a primal mating that would leave her disillusioned, and frightened of the male she once thought of as passionate instead of brutal.

That was what happened in the past.

Most Treasures were mentally prepared for the ferocity of the coupling and accepted it as part of the burden in protecting greatness. They understood their mate needed to reassert dominance to regain equilibrium and appease the Dragon’s vengeful spirit.

Daniil had a sinking feeling Marina’s lack of Tzioni upbringing blinded her to the depth of Koen’s savage nature.

He scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “Just prepare yourself.”

“For what? I know it’ll be hard, but once it’s done we’ll be together forever.”

He winced. She didn’t even try to disguise the dreamy quality to her gushing words. “There can be no softness, no compassion when you....” His sigh was gusty. “When the Hunt begins he is no longer your lover. He is an animal to be broken.”

“Daniil!” She was outraged. “Koen is not an animal.”

“In dragonskin he is. A beast. One that could lose control and kill you.”

She turned vehement, expression stony. “Koen would never–”

“The Koen Raad you know will be engulfed by his Dragon’s fear of capture and defeat.” He lurched to grab hold of her. His fingers dug into her upper arms as he shook her hard. “He will become a creature of instinct and violence. Impulses guiding his feral senses will tell him freedom is his right. Command him to fight for it. Even if that means drawing innocent blood revered to him. The blood of a beloved one he vowed not to harm. Do not underestimate the strength of his primitive urges. It will mean your death, and by the Goddess, your demise would destroy him. It would destroy me.” Breaking off, Daniil jerked back. He slowly released the slender arms he’d grabbed in his urgency to express the danger she faced. “You are my friend. Please take care. Many will fall apart if you die.”

Marina understood why everyone around her started to panic. The chances of her completing Aver was higher than before. The Hunt was a dicey, volatile thing and she knew they couldn’t see how she would beat Koen Raad.

However, somehow, she knew he belonged to her. They just had to trust her.

“I know you’re worried.” Marina clasped his hands. “I’ve got this. You don’t have to worry.”

“But I do.”

“Something has you spooked.”

“A growing darkness presses upon my mind. Each day that passes I feel as if you are slipping away from us.” Shuddering, he shook his head. “I cannot explain it.”

“How much sleep have you been getting?”

“Marina.”

“I’m serious. It sounds like you need a serious time out. I’ve taken up too much of your time. After spending your days training me, you pass the night catching up on the official business of your House. I know you step in to manage politics for Koen when Nikolai’s off doing whatever it is he does.” The twinkle in her eye let him know what she thought of the young Raad’s nightly activities. “You attend the Aver functions, thwart assassination attempts against me, and help with anything else I ask.” She squeezed his hand. “I’m sorry. My head’s crammed with self-recriminating crap, and I’ve put undue pressure on you. You’ve been picking up my slack.”

“Immaterial.” He shifted, and looked uncomfortable. “Your focus must be on Aver.”

“As ideal as it would be to only have the tournament to think of, I have a family who needs me. I’m well aware Mikhail is keeping hold of my duties as the first born of my House. Pytor our steward is wonderful, but what House Zar needs is its Lady. Boy is just all over the place emotionally, and at some point I have to talk to him about his magicks. I sense it growing stronger.”

“You sense it.” He frowned. “You are uncommonly in touch with mystic energy for a Chosen. I have been meaning to ask you about the quest.”

She knew exactly what was coming and fought not to stiffen. He’d notice. Once he was on her case he wouldn’t stop probing until he’d uncovered the reason for her unease. “Hm?”

“You conjured flames. Koen did not teach you this.”

The unspoken was neither had he.

They must have compared notes, she mused.

How much did they pry into her goings on without her being aware? Probably more than any woman would be comfortable with. She dispelled the thought.

No point mulling over the unalterable.

“It was instinctive. I just knew how.”

“Customarily only Dragon Lords possess innate command of the elements. That you seem to as well is impressive, and is probably because you are the rare offspring of a Phoenix. Very promising.”

“That’s me – all kinds of kick ass. So you see? I have too much happening to put on blinkers.”

“It all can wait.”

“No.” She levelled him a direct look, her resolve firm. “Zar House needs me, and Boy is my son. Nothing is more important than taking care of my family and establishing myself as a just leader. I refuse to act like the other members of the Courts and only concern myself with money, status and my own needs. Cathryn’s arrival was a wake up call. I can’t ignore the things she pointed out to me.”

“Ignoring her is a trial.”

Marina’s lips twitched. “Be nice.”

“I am!”

“And play nice. She’s here to help.”

“So you say.”

“You’ll be seeing a lot of her Daniil. I want her to be a part of my life here. A big part.”

He winked, but didn’t comment further.

She rolled her eyes.

His lack of response wasn’t encouraging. He’d circle back to the topic at a later date when he thought things were stacked to his advantage.

That was simply the kind of male he was.

She’d be worried his skill at manipulation was a threat to her, but she knew he’d never use it against her.

Daniil would never betray her trust.

“Tell me,” he said, stretching his legs then reclining. “Have you spoken to Koen about the youngling’s abilities?”

“Not yet. He feels it. I’ve seen him eyeing Boy a time or two when a particularly potent surge escapes his control.”

“Three kinds of beings have magicks, Marina. Dragon Lords, their Dragon Mates, and Mages.”

“Oh, don’t start.”

“Boy is not a Dragon shifter.”

“It changes nothing.”

“Mages are our natural enemy.” Glacial gaze darkening – she had to force herself not to shiver – his full mouth thinned. “This will not be received well by the Courts.”

“When is anything I do received well by the Dragon Courts?” She kept it light, smiling even when his brooding turned into true anger.

“Treat the threat of scandal seriously. Much can be impacted by a harsh rumour.”

She so wanted to dismiss him, but checked the inclination. The uninteresting parts of life couldn’t forever be ignored. “Okay.” Her sigh was long suffering. “Tell me why.”

“What?” He appeared taken aback. “You want me to teach you politics? You.” Eyes gleaming, his voice sharpened with enthusiasm. “Truly? There is a wealth of knowledge I wish to share. No one shares my fondness for government. The art of stratagem and the grace of battle achieved with superior warskill. I will teach you my tricks. Teach you to be the finest manipulator Tzion has ever seen.” He rubbed his hands together. Grinned. “You are so unlike a politician they will never see you coming.”

“Uh, let’s not get too carried away.” She giggled nervously. “Think babe-in-arms. How about we add half an hour of political speculation onto my hourly history lesson.” How she wanted to weep. “We’ll take it from there.”

“Yes, yes, of course.”

His fervour suffered no dampening.

Marina could picture the endless lectures hurtling around his brilliant mind.

“We must pace ourselves,” he said. “Ensure we delve into minute detail so you are able to grasp the complexities of the subject matter.”

Happy as she was to have diverted his attention from the ominous feeling driving him to the brink of exhaustion, she hadn’t forgotten how overworked he was.

There were lines on his face that hadn’t been when they met. Signs of strain so visible on his immortal body troubled her.

“Daniil? Will you go sleep now?”

His cheerful yet weary gaze snapped to hers. “But your training. The second quest is a week away and you still struggle to remain calm in water.”

“I can mange alone for the rest of the day.”

“Fia will not be there. What if–”

“Hand on heart, I won’t drown.”

Sceptical was too a mild word for his expression. It was blatantly distrustful. “You won’t remain focused.”

“I swear I will.” She paused. “Unless something urgent comes along.”

“Marina, Koen wanting to steal you away for an illicit rendezvous is not urgent.”

She giggled a denial, stuck out her tongue then fled squealing as he chased her from the room.

CHAPTER TEN

Waving Daniil off, Marina bounced into Cathryn’s chamber. “Morning,” she sang. “What’s happening? What the fuck is happening?”

“Marina.”

“Argh.” Her pitched scream echoed through the sudden silence where there had once been panting. Marina recoiled at the sight of Mikhail’s naked buttocks disappearing under the sheets. “Nooo.”

“Oh my God.” Cathryn scrabbled to draw the sheets to her naked breasts. “Get out.”

“My eyes.”

“Out.”

Flinging out a hand, Marina stumbled. She refused to open her eyes. Death was preferable to sight. “Somebody help me.” She tripped over the shallow ledge at the edge of the room then crashed through the wood and paper screen tearing a gaping hole.

She bumbled into the hallway and slammed into the opposite wall.

Flushed, Cathryn stormed from her chamber.

She hastily wrapped a trailing robe in vivid purple around her sweaty nudity. “Don’t you knock?”

“You.” Hissing like a feline, Marina stopped clinging to the wall for support. Her entire arm shook as she pointed the finger. “I am shocked. Shocked. I–” She paused to shudder when a memory of Mikhail thrusting floated before her eyes. She wedged the heels of her palms into her eyes. Jerked back as if the movement would shunt the memory loose. “How could you? How bloody could you?”

Defensive, Cathryn coked her hip and crossed her arms. Her bare foot – toenails painted a glossy red – tapped against the flagstone. “So you’re the only one who gets to fall in love?”

“Wha?”

“Okay, relax.” She jumped back and coloured. “Maybe not love, but certainly lust. Knee-trembling, panty wetting lust.”

Panting, Marina worried she’d lost her mind. “Did you just say the word ‘panty’ and ‘wetting’ while referring to ... I can’t even ... where my words?”

“You’re blowing this out of proportion. So Mikhail and I messed around a little. We’re adults.”

Marina gaped. Then she straightened and flashed her palms. “Did I hit my head? Am I floating face down in the lagoon? To think I promised Daniil I wouldn’t drown.”

“What are you babbling about?” Cathryn huffed, pushing hair off her face. “This is real, Rina. Do us all a favour. Ease off the wine.”

“You’re fornicating with my father.” Jumping from dazed to hysterical, her voice climbed so high she squeaked. “I saw things no child should see. Ever.” She hyperventilated, chest rising and falling steeply. “I won’t be able to have sex again. I’m damaged for life. Oh, Koen is going to murder you.”

“Give it a rest.” Her words were brave, but her voice cracked. “You’ll be fine.”

Marina leaned against the wall. Her legs felt weak, and her stomach roiled. “Isn’t this illegal?”

Cathryn’s mouth tightened. “How did you come to such a daft conclusion?”

“You are my best friend. He’s my father. That makes you his honorary daughter.”

“Like hell it does.”

“This can be forgotten, a lot of wine, and poof, all gone. No harm, no foul.” Freaked out, Marina drew herself up. “But if I catch you at this again there will be hell to pay.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You heard me. Whatever this is stops now, and I don’t want to speak of this ever again.”

“You can’t bully me into doing what you want. I’m not one of these simple-minded Dragon Lords you have bent out of shape.”

Marina froze. She caught up to the fact Cathryn wasn’t nodding in agreement, but was looking more pissed by the second. She didn’t like being ordered about? Too damn bad. “Sorry to drop kick you into reality, but I can, and am. Get used to it. There are three individuals in this entire dimension of higher rank than me. And in case you hadn’t noticed, I’m about to get a lot bloody more important. So yes, I’m ordering you to close your fucking legs when it comes to my father. If you can’t handle that I’ll have someone take you back across the dimensional border. Are we clear?”

Jaw dropping, Cathryn took a step back. “Who the hell do you think you are?”

“High Princess Marina Zar.” Marina’s chin lifted. “First Chosen of Aver and beloved Treasure of Dragon King Koen Raad.” There were some situations she didn’t have to put up with – members of her immediate family screwing being one of them. “Not to mention the daughter of the man you’re leading on.”

“You don’t know anything about it.”

She held up her middle finger as a visual aid. “You’ve known him this many days.”

“Hypocrite. How long did you know Koen before you knew the was the one?”

“Mikhail has a Treasure. You’re not it.”

Flinching, Cathryn’s face turned stony. “So? I don’t buy into that soul mate bullshit. Either two people meet, fall in love and make it work or they don’t. Just because Almeria was dumb enough to throw a great catch back doesn’t mean I am.”

Aside from the fact Marina did believe in that soul mate bullshit, was putting her life on the line daily for it, protective anger washed over all the other stuff she had an issue with. “Did you just call my mother dumb?”

Waving her arms, Cathryn mocked horror, hands clutched to her breast. “God forbid anybody speak a word against the wonderful Almeria.”

“My mother would kick your ass.”

“Good thing she’s not here then.”

“Because she’s dead, you traitorous bitch.”

“Traitorous?”

Both women were nose-to-nose and breathing heavily.

Marina put her hands on her hips and dug deep for calm. Hurt and anger bled into a bubbling confusion that covered the world in a reddish haze.

“I told you me and Mikhail were having problems. Is this your idea of helping us build a relationship? Guess what, you took it a mile past too far. This is inappropriate. What is the matter with you?”

Servants began to gather, drawn by the fierce argument.

Whispers rippled up and down the corridor.

Marina knew half the Dragon Lands would know of the confrontation before nightfall, and she didn’t care. The Houses would speculate and contrive how best to use the apparent dissension within the ranks to their advantage, but that was a problem for later.

Ducking through the ragged tear in the painted screen, Mikhail moved into the hallway.

Clad solely in breeches, his longish hair was dishevelled, his distinguished features wary. “Daughter-”

Seeing him Marina relived a flashback.

She screamed.

She pressed her back to the wall, and covered her eyes.

Admittedly Mikhail was in the prime of his life. It didn’t matter he was ancient by human standards. His body was sleekly defined with muscle and his hair jet black, the exact shade she’d inherited along with his polished, peanut-wood eyes.

There were areas of his life she’d hoped never to be an intimate witness of.

Seeing him on top of the girl she’d played hopscotch with ... she simply couldn’t stop screaming.

Cathryn slapped her. Hard. “Snap out of it.”

She did stop, only to ball up her fist, fully intending to rearrange the woman’s pretty face into black and blue mulch.

“Marina.” Mikhail’s voice was severe. “Control yourself.” He speared Cathryn a quelling look that had her paling and retreating a step. “Never strike her again.”

“She was hysterical. You haven’t seen her suffer a panic attack.” She rubbed her tingling hand on her side. “It’s not good.”

“She has been trained to respond violently to attack. If the Dragon King witnessed the blow you would be dead.” Mikhail snarled. “He would tear your head from your shoulders before you could blink. Daniil, and Nikolai pose the same threat, as do the House Guard of Raad, Kol and Zar.”

Wide-eyed, Cathryn took another step back. “You people are crazy.”

“She is the High Princess of this land, vying for the Ice Wreath and throne to the Empire. You harmed her person. What did you expect?” His voice gentled. “I say this not to frighten you. It is a warning. Aside from the threat others pose if Marina herself spun out of control she would not just harm you by attacking. Your life would be at risk. It would upset her after the fact to have killed you. Do not strike her again.”

Elbow drawn back, Marina had halted, letting this prattle filter past her dangerous rage.

Mikhail was right.

Shame pierced through her haze.

She could have hurt Cat badly, and for what? Yes, they were quarrelling, but this wasn’t much worse than other arguments where they’d gotten bitchy and dealt a few slaps.

Mikhail saved her from making a grave mistake.

Regardless, she couldn’t face him. She felt betrayed and unable to coherently express her pain. These two people meant so much to her in such different ways.

“Is this a twisted form of punishment?” she asked him. “A way to get back at me for not kowtowing to your whims?”

“No.”

“A way to get back at my mother for leaving you?”

Snatching a sharp intake of breath, Mikhail sighed gustily. “Marina, my dearest one, this is how you think of me?”

“Do you love her?”

“It is not about love. Sometimes people need to feel connected, even ancient Phoenixes past their prime. I took comfort that was offered by a beautiful woman.”

“There are thousands of women who’d fall into your bed.”

He hummed. Bobbed his head from side to side. “Would any male do in Koen’s stead?”

Marina grew too angry to speak. She pushed past it, desperate to find sense in the madness overtaking her life. “So on top of everything else, I have to deal with my father and best friend fucking in the room next to mine?”

“I begin to understand Pasha’s obsession.” Mikhail made a noise low in his throat. “Must you be vulgar?”

“Call it what it is. If you loved each other I could overlook the sex, but you just said it’s not about love.” Her gaze switched. Bored into Cathryn. Maybe she would possess a better explanation for her actions. “Of all the people in this Kingdom why him? Why?”

“Why Koen?”

“Why do people keep using my relationship with Koen as justification for their shitty behaviour? What Koen and I share is incomparable to this seedy perversion.”

“Bloody hell. We’re not related. It’s not like I grew up knowing him. Stop judging.”

“Why him?”

“He’s attractive, and I wanted him. You do impulsive crap all the time.” Cathryn rubbed her head looking seriously embarrassed. “I don’t give you this much stress over it.”

“So you’re getting back at me? I thought we covered this last night. I’m sorry I hurt you by disappearing. Did you need to go so far for revenge?”

“This isn’t about you. It has nothing to do with you. My life does not revolve around you.”

“When did I say it did? You have to admit this is ridiculous, and clearly a way to get back at me.”

“No, it’s rebound sex, you moron, for the both of us. It’s not personal. Stop taking it so hard.”

“He is my father. You couldn’t get more personal unless you fucked Koen Raad. Who’s next? Daniil? Nikolai?”

“Oh, now you’re being disgusting.”

Marina jerked a shoulder, eyes narrowing. “Just trying to suss out boundaries. I need to know what to expect.”

Hands fisting at her sides, Cathryn screwed up her face. “Why does this bother you so much?”

Thunderstruck, Marina gaped. “How can you ask me that?”

“It’s not like you give a shit about him. Mik’s told me how you’ve treated him since arrived.”

Mik?

“I’ve been reduced to pillow talk.” Infuriated, she flung up her hands. “The nightmare is complete.”

“Stop acting so flipping spoilt. You have everything and are about to gain more. Why can’t you back off on this?”

Flabbergasted at everything she’d heard, Marina stared, unblinking, uncomprehending.

Anger surged hot and thick, choking her to any reason she might have tried to employ had her friend acted contrite. “You know what? Have at him.”

Sensing the depth of her resentment, Mikhail cautiously moved forward. “Daughter–” He reached out a hand.

“Don’t touch me. I know where your hands have been. It makes me sick.” She gulped air. “You asked me to give you a chance. Before I could even agree you’ve ruined any chance at me trusting you. No wonder my mother bailed. She deserved a congratulatory fucking balloon considering this example of how you act towards your own flesh and blood.”

Aura swelling threateningly, his dark brows lowered until his appearance embodied thunder. “If you wish to speak of your mother we can do so at a more appropriate time.” His attention flicked to Cathryn.

Her expression was guarded, sea blue eyes showing far too much pain.

Mikhail focused on his offspring. It pained him she drifted further from his reach. “I hoped you would come to me so we could talk, but you avoid me. Know you may ask whatever you wish, just not here. Not now.”

Tears veiled Marina’s eyes.

She heard an underlying plea in his words, and she wanted to respond, ardently, but her pride was shredded.

She couldn’t allow herself to go to him. Weakness of that kind was beneath her.

“Who are you to tell me anything about what’s appropriate?”

Prominent Adam’s apple sliding down his throat, he averted his gaze. His expression wasn’t quite shame, but close enough. “I am not used to this. I take what I want at whim.” His back stiffened. “I apologize. I hurt you. It was not intentional. I was not thinking, only feeling.”

“Apology not accepted. Not only have you offended me by throwing away the trust we built between us, you trespassed on what’s mine. Mine.”

A feral growl built in her chest and her eyes burned. The feral sound rumbled from her throat and sliced the tension, killing the hushed chatter from the watching servants.

Eyes flashing with power, Mikhail felt his Dragon rise as if she were a Dragon Lord issuing a challenge for dominance.

His eyes widened then narrowed to slits as he considered her sharp breathing and tense frame.

She vibrated fury.

Mystical energy rushed towards her as if readying to burst from her skin. As if she were on the verge of expelling that power in a transformation he’d seen and felt thousands of times before. As if she were on the verge of shifting.

But that is not possible, he thought.

“She is my friend.” Marina’s breathing was reedy. Something animalistic stirred in her heart. All she could think was her territory was violated. A predator threatened her. Borrowing a phrase from her Koen Raad that was not acceptable. “I could forgive you for bringing her here without asking, but not for taking advantage of her when she’s vulnerable, and not for disrespecting me. Carrying on in this manner a stone’s throw from where my son sleeps. What if he’d gone looking for you?” She slapped a hand against the wall needing to hit something. “What the hell were you thinking?”

Unwisely butting in, Cathryn frowned. “He wouldn’t come into my room unannounced.”

Not looking at her, Marina gritted her teeth. It was a battle to repress the urge to lash out physically.

She hadn’t been this livid since the Katya debacle.

Sweat beaded her brow as she kept pushing down the urge to explode. Her skin felt on fire, yet her insides frosted with ice.

“Boy is close to Mikhail,” she said frigidly. “Finding people is like breathing to him, because he has magicks. Tracking auras is an element of his power. I know that because I’m his mother. You have no knowledge of him to declare what he will or will not do. Based on that, I suggest you to be quiet.”

Cathryn said nothing.

Turning her burning face away, she silently seethed, embarrassed, and hurt.

“Come to my chamber.” Noticing the swell of curious servants inching closer, Mikhail flashed a look at the broken screen and grimaced. “We will discuss this rationally.”

“I have training.” There was no way she was enclosing herself in a smaller space with these two. It was like she could smell the sex and it was making her queasy. “I’m currently participating in a tournament that might claim my life, and learning how defend myself against the slew of Houses out to assassinate me. In case you hadn’t noticed. I can’t afford distractions, or time away from my preparations.”

Marina didn’t care she’d argued not an hour ago with Daniil that family were more important than Aver.

She just wanted to leave.

Throwing a last look of antagonism at Cathryn, Marina walked.

If she stayed she felt as if she’d erupt into flames.

“Stay away from me. Both of you.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Crystal waters lapped against the sandy shoreline.

Sat hunched over her knees, Marina wiped at her cheeks when a celestial winged shadow engulfed hers.

‘Is it true?’ The voice was steel and death and fury. ‘Did she strike you?’

“Don’t you dare start.” Her voice croaked from crying. “It’s nothing to do with you.”

The immense shadow vanished then was replaced with the silhouette of a man. “Everything concerning you affects me.” A pause. “I wanted to kill her. I came here first to give you a chance to change my mind.”

Marina sighed.

Head dropping back, she stared up at Koen Raad’s ruggedly handsome face. His features were painted wrath, and his clenched fists were white-knuckled.

He’d truly leashed the beast for her.

Aw.

“Sit with me?”

“I want–”

“I know what you want. No.”

After a deadly, lingering pause, he knelt still not ready to give up on his mission to make the ones who harmed her pay.

The edgy atmosphere calmed.

“She hurt you,” he said. “He hurt you. Why not take vengeance?”

“People hurt me all the time.”

“But I get to kill them.”

When she gave him a sharp, furious little look his features wiped clean. She wasn’t supposed to know that.

“You won’t let me kill her.” A dissatisfied assertion tinged with conflict.

She grabbed his wrist, urging him lower.

The contrast of his bronzed skin against her moon-glow fingers was striking.

“Cathryn is my friend. Friends fight. It’s natural. I love her like a sister and that’s why she drives me crazy. Mikhail....” She dug her toes into the warm, silky sand. “He donated sperm that created the awesomeness that is Marina. That counts.” She forced a smile to sell it. “Understand?”

Koen grumbled, but allowed his muscles to relax under her touch. Not because he let their trespass go, but because the Dragon sensed a deep disquiet within its Treasure.

He stretched his long legs then drew her onto his lap.

“Koen?”

“Treasure?”

Marina rubbed her face on his bare chest.

It wasn’t smooth and perfect. It was scarred with the story of his life.

“All naked.” She ran a finger along the segments of his abdominals. Watched them contract with archaic liking. “Why?”

“This is my natural state.” He tilted his head to eye her. He would remember to clothe himself after shifting in future if she wished it. “This bothers you?”

If he didn’t care why would she?

“I’m curious. Don’t you feel,” she glided her hand over his groin, “exposed?”

“No.”

“I think that’s how I would feel. As if people were watching me.” She shuddered delicately.

“People watch me whatever I do.” Disappointed she moved her hand he closed his eyes, contenting himself to just hold her. She craved his company and felt vulnerable enough to submit to his petting, so he wouldn’t push her too quickly. “The need to cover, conceal and hide is the reaction of prey.” A snarl rolled over his tongue. He flexed his muscles. “This bothers you.” This time it was an accusatory statement.

Um.” She rocked her hips, nudging the erection poking her bottom. “I can honestly say I don’t mind so much.”

Laughter vibrated his chest.

He tumbled her to the sand and worshiped her lips with open-mouthed kisses.

Passion flared, and his hands wandered.

He laved the skin between her breasts, chuckled when she complained of sand in private places, and found his grasping hands filled with the twin delight of her buttocks.

Sprawled between her thighs, he bit her shoulder, easing up only when she gasped, tugging on his hair.

A suck-bruise stood out starkly against her the creamy swathe of skin above her breast.

He purred contently, the Dragon prowling closer than the man, wanting to play.

“Wait.” Another firm tug to the back of his skull. “I promised Daniil I wouldn’t do this.”

Koen stilled. Jealousy ripped into desire turning him rigid. “Explain.”

Marina wriggled. His weight had become stone like over her. “The next quest is a week away. I have to train, Koen. Daniil needed sleep, he’s been working too hard. The only reason he agreed to rest and leave me to my own devices was because I swore not to let you distract me. To your credit you’re not distracting my attention.” Her hands groped and stroked their way up the muscled plane of his back. “You’re owning it.” She played with the soft fringes of his hair, smoothing the blunt ends. “He knew I’d be crawling all over you since you come here so often.”

“I see.” Her reasoning as to why she mentioned a promise to another male while he loved her was adequate. And yet he desired her. His gaze was stubborn, moody. Resentment turned calculating as he traced the swell of her breast. “Vow to me I can have you whenever I want.”

Because all vows to Koen Raad, Dragon King superseded all others.

Marina ruthlessly fought amusement. If he caught even a flicker of it she was finished.

“That would be cheating.” Leaning up she touched the tip of her snub nose to his blade-straight one. “We keep our vows.”

It was annoying, but acceptable.

She needed to hone her skills, and he could help her with that while tending his growing need to be close to her.

“Come.”

He sprung to his feet and hauled her up and over his shoulder.

“This is not helping.” Marina rubbed the small of his back. Her hair tickled the tips of her ears, and blood rushed to her head. “Didn’t you hear me? No sexiness.”

“Ah, female.” He spanked her bottom, headed for the water. “Tempting as you are your mentor is correct. You need practice. Providentially, you have the mightiest Dragon in the land to teach you.”

“But Daniil is sleeping.”

She squealed when he grunted, turned his head and bit her thigh.

The spray of the water was cool when Koen splashed through the gentle swells breaking upon the beach.

He stood hip high in the water.

Large white birds with orange beaks soared overhead.

The wind blew his hair across his shoulders, and he felt gentle fingers petting the strands. He breathed deeply, the air flavoured with salt and his Treasure’s rich scent of arousal.

There were no ships, and it was blessedly peaceful, even so close to harbour.

The sun burned fiery yellow.

The radiant shafts refracted off the choppy, tourmaline water causing a prismatic glitter. The horizon was dotted with mountainous pillars of earth until the lagoon gave way to barrier reefs.

Past the underwater ridge was the ocean, an expanse as boundless and fierce as his soul.

For him the moment was perfect.

The only betterment would be Marina’s wet, silken heat enveloping his shaft, her spasms of pleasure sucking him dry.

He sighed.

It was not to be for she made a vow.

Koen gripped Marina’s shapely legs, laughing darkly at the imprint of his teeth, and lowered her into the nippy water.

She slinked her arms around his neck, lacing her fingers. When her feet touched the sandy bottom the waterline reached her ribcage. “Thank you.”

He avariciously eyed the soaked fabric clinging to her peaked nipples. “For?”

“Everything.” She smiled, openly loving. She was never unsure of her feelings, only of their welcome. “Being you.”

Smirking, he raised a raven wing brow. Palmed the swell of her hip. “You realise everyone save Daniil, Myron and Nikolai dislike me. Intensely.”

He let her see his teasing.

They might not like him, but his people were loyal, and he was devoted to them in return.

“That’s because you’re so moody.” Rising onto her tiptoes, she nipped his chin. “It would help if you smiled. I find the killer glower sexy, but it intimidates most.”

He smiled, for her, and she gazed at him adoringly.

He stole a kiss from her lush lips, another, and came wilfully close to forgetting the reason vows were considered unbreakable.

He firmly set her away.

“You are aware of what the quest entails?” he asked.

“In principle. I swim from one end of the black lagoon to the other.”

It was located on the other side of the Kingdom, and was considered hellish. It was the domain of feral wild ones that made Koen’s Dragon appear tame.

“While the water wild ones battle you from below for invading their territory,” Koen furthered.

Marina repressed a shudder. “Daniil is lending me Fia. We both have to reach the other side together, alive, to complete the quest.” She wouldn’t show fear in front of Koen. His protective instincts would spiral, and he’d be impossible for the others to keep calm during the event.

Koen snorted crossly. “My Glypwr is stronger. I heard you settled on him.”

“Fia’s faster. I have endurance in the water when I remember not to pan–” She cut that sentence right off. “My strategy is based on Fia being the swiftest swimmer. I’m going to hold on for dear life and we’re going to take off, stay straight, and leave the others in the dust.”

“The other First Chosen have males.” Koen snorted. “Only House Kol keeps females. If the wild ones catch and engage you and your mount under the water, what then?” He gripped her chin when she tried to turn her head. His firmed his touch when she averted her eyes. “What will you do?”

“Honestly? If we’re caught we’re finished.” Her eyes rounded at his furious snarl. “Fia isn’t strong enough to take on a male, and I’m not good enough in the water for combat. Our secret weapon is speed. You heard I settled on Glypwr because Daniil’s been slyly circulating it as a rumour.”

“Clever,” he grated. “Then again I expect nothing less of Kol.”

“Actually,” she blushed ducking her head, “The idea was mine.”

Thunderclouds darkening his features cleared.

Trust, he had to trust her.

Koen’s grin was feral. “The other Chosen will base their strategies on power not speed.” Arms banding about her waist, he nibbled her lips. He felt proud of her achievements. “You will catch them off guard.”

“We even went so far as to take Glypwr with us to strengthen the charade. We met Fia at our training patch, which we changed frequently. Fingers crossed we have them fooled.”

“I have faith,” he muttered grudgingly.

He believed in her.

He would do so even if there were an alternative.

Silver fish swirled around their legs, and seaweed tickled Marina’s toes. A crab took a pinch at her ankle and she yelped, climbing up Koen’s front until he had to peel her off his face.

He threw his head back and laughed when she simply lunged and scaled him again. “We must practice how to move in the water. I will show you how. The pressure slows you considerably.”

“I know.” Her bottom lip pushed out, glum. “Daniil tried to show me how to kick while submerged to the waist. I looked like I was fighting the rewind button.” At his blank look, she gurgled laughter. “Ignore me.”

“No.”

They spent the rest of the day teasing each other.

Koen showed her how better to cut through the water off a dive from his back, and summoned Glypwr, so she could practice holding onto a water Dragon fin as it skimmed through the water.

When Glypwr dived deep, rushing though its underwater province at phenomenal speeds with ethereal grace not achievable on the surface, she developed a higher appreciation of Tzion’s uncultivated beauty.

Marina kept her promise.

Koen had made sure of it, making her dive, swim, and evade Glypwr until her skin wrinkled.

She treaded water until her muscles ached, and listening to Koen’s deep, shadow-cool voice reaffirming what she’d learnt about sui, the water godai, fascinated her, staving off a tantrum when he wouldn’t let her rest.

Finally, he raced her from the shore to a lagoon atoll and back. He won, but she kept less than two-shaku distance between them at worst. At the finish line she collapsed into the sand, shattered.

Koen shook it off without a hint of vanity. He didn’t consider the day’s activities strenuous.

At her sullen expression, he laughed boomingly, and scooped her flaccid body into his arms. He twirled her around until she distracted him with a tongue heavy kiss.

As the day wore on she learnt that Koen Raad was indeed, a very sore loser, and possessed no qualms about cheating.

“You can’t use your other hand,” she protested. “That’s unfair.”

Koen narrowed his slanted eyes. “There is no such thing as unfair in war.”

“Be sporting.”

Marina held his massive hand and pressed the pad of her thumb to his. They sat facing each other. Her thighs were spread and hugging his hips, knees pressed into the warm, grainy sand.

The pulsing length pressed against her core was difficult to disregard.

“One, two, three, four–”

“–I declare a thumb war,” Koen finished gruffly.

Heated battle ensued.

She was exasperated when he grew increasingly agitated she could pin his thumb so easily.

Devious, he again used his other hand to hold her thumb still while pinning it with the other in play. “I win.” He pounced, flattening her on her back and crushing his mouth to hers.

He got as far as shedding her leathers and wedging his hips between her thighs. His mouth was everywhere. His hot tongue licked at her lips, her throat, and the shell of her ear. His rough skin rasped against hers in such a way shivers of lust bolted through her veins and had her hips rolling.

Sinking fast, Marina rasped, “Koen.”

Berserk, he shook his head once and covered her mouth with his. He freed himself. She felt his turgid cock thump against her bare mound and her eyes crossed.

He shifted, dragging the engorged head of his shaft against her clit and pulled back to plunge.

Desperate, she bit his tongue, hard, screaming, “Vow,” though both their teeth.

Determined to distract him from seducing her, she mentioned Cathryn then shimmied from under him when he stiffened in anger. So they rehashed her earlier upset, Koen’s protective streak engaged once more and refusing to let it lie.

“Let me talk to them.” His erection bobbed angrily between his muscled thighs as he stormed after her. “With my help they will perceive the error of their ways.”

“Never before has the word ‘help’ possessed sadistic connotations.” She sniffed over her shoulder at him, flicking water. “Not until you.”

Marina splashed through the shallows, shaking off the sensation of his body hard and heavy over hers as he readied to take her. Her skin was clammy with unfulfilled desire. The hem of her tunic stuck to her upper thighs, sand was ground into places it should never reach, and she was hot, uncomfortable, and burning for him.

Reconsidering her saintly behaviour, she turned and clasped his naked hips. “Do I sense in this conversation ‘talk’ is a devious euphemism for cripple and maim?”

Looking her right in the eyes, without flinching, he lied. “No.” He drew the word out, dipping his head and claiming her lips.

Marina allowed him to sidetrack her – for a moment.

She pinched his nipple and twisted. Sank her teeth into his full bottom lip, breaking skin. “Liar.”

“I know you, Treasure.” He licked away the blood. “This plays on your mind. Pain shadows your eyes.”

“Is it wrong to feel betrayed?”

“It is never wrong to feel an emotion.” He paused. “What upsets you more? That they are not in love, or that they are involved at all?”

“Yes. I mean no. I mean, I don’t know.” She shook her head and pushed it against his shoulder. Her words were muffled. “I’m angry. I feel loss, rejection.”

He focused on the emotion puzzling him most. “Why rejection?”

She blinked. “Mikhail chose to be with her instead of furthering his relationship with me.”

“Ah.” His hand burrowed under her tunic and caressed the tender skin under her breast. His other hand gripped her hip. “With you it was one or the other?”

“Something like this happening never crossed my mind. I knew Cathryn was hot and bothered over a man. I knew.” She resorted to bashing her head against his shoulder. “I thought Daniil. At worse Nikolai.”

Koen grunted.

“Not my father.” Retrospectively there were glaring clues. “I should have guessed. I was so involved in my problems I missed the clues. His growling, her inquisitiveness into his previous marriage.” She rolled her eyes, made a hollow, empty sounding noise. “Talk about obvious. Ugh, she’s a hateful bitch, always so ready to call me on my shit. It’s why she’s my girl. Still, I don’t understand this thing with Mikhail.”

Koen stroked her back as he pondered how to respond. “Love is different for each individual. Did you know that not all Treasures loved their Phoenixes?”

“Well, I suppose I came to that conclusion when I discovered Mikhail was my father. I assumed my mother loved him, but from comments I’ve heard of her reign, she was more like Anastasia in her outlook than me. It’s unsurprising.”

Marina remembered her mother well.

Almeria had been cold, frozen in some untouchable way, thawing only in private. There were times – like their joint laughter a split second before the accident – that shone bright in her memory.

When her mother had let go, she had been the kindest, most loving of creatures.

At some stage in her life that softness had been crushed.

She probably destroyed it herself as a way to survive the cutthroat reality of the Dragon Courts.

“Perhaps that was your first mistake.”

Marina jerked back, mentally and physically. “My mistake? Are you saying I’m in the wrong?”

“Easy.” Koen pulled her back into his chest. “There is no right and wrong here. Remember that. I think I may be able to unravel some of the confusion in what you are feeling. May I?”

Appeased, she snuggled closer. “Go ahead.”

“If you were gone it would destroy me. I would die. When Almeria left Mikhail carried on. That he let her go was a scandal in itself. Theirs was not a complete match yet they may have grown into love. Your mother chose another path.”

“But Mikhail seemed to care deeply about her. When I told him she died, he grieved.”

She grimaced. The way she’d told him had been entirely rude and heartless. He wasn’t the only one guilty of ruining the fragile attachment between them.

“There is no way he could not. Even if there is not love between a Dragon and his mate there is respect, liking, and friendship. They went through the Hunt together. That forms a bond between the Emperor and Empress beyond love. There is loyalty.”

“He’s sleeping with Cathryn. That’s not loyalty, Koen.”

“I speak of another kind.” He hesitated then braced himself, as if expecting a blow. His voice deepened, darkened. “Did your mother remain chaste? I tell you now, until Cathryn your Sire would have been.”

Marina fell silent.

Gritting her teeth, she clutched him tighter.

Though Koen was angry with Mikhail for hurting her he was definitely on the male’s side concerning everything else.

He reminded her there were shades of grey, and given her food for thought. She thanked him for it, even if it forced her to rethink her judgements.

Cupping his throat, she invited his addicting kind of distraction.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Marina was in heaven. The hope of attaining her goals was never higher.

The sun was a solid gold disc. As it set rays of light shot across the horizon turning the sky a blend of pink and purple that faded into a dusky blue splattered with stars.

Their hunger sent Koen hunting.

They feasted on fresh fish he cooked with dragonfire, and drank chilled water from an artesian spring.

It was a preview into how life would be with her Dragon and nothing made her more content.

Velvet darkness enfolded them before the rest of the world intruded on their tranquillity.

Daniil’s gait was smooth through the finely milled ridges of sand bleached silver by the moonlight.

He stopped at their bare feet.

His gaze wandered up a pair tangled legs, one set long, muscled and dark bronze, the other shorter, slender and the colour of pale cream, until it reached their sleepy faces.

He sighed. “I suppose I am not surprised.”

Curled up against her male’s chest, Marina blinked sleepily.

Grunting, Koen remained in repose. He kissed Marina’s throat, his fingertips lightly stroking the curved indent of her waist. His belly was full. He had spent the entire day alone with his Treasure talking of their pasts and future, playing games, improving warskill, and as the day wore on despite their vigorous activities, Marina lost the tension around her mouth. The haunting sadness deep in her expressive brown eyes lessened.

The carnality of his hunger for her body lowered to a smouldering burn, and so he would wait, patiently, for another time to ease them both.

Nothing could dampen his good humour.

Not even Daniil’s censure.

“I did train.” Yawning, Marina pushed up onto her elbows. She got no further as Koen’s arms refused to loosen. His hold became sweetly possessive, and she raked her fingers through his hair. Smiled when he groaned. “We went over my strategy, I practiced diving off Koen’s back, skimming with Glypwr.” She ticked the day’s activities off her fingers. “And I learnt how to kick under water.” She grinned. “Amazing how a female can do something as difficult as keeping her word, isn’t it?”

Daniil smiled, in a good mood since he’d slept for the first time in days.

As he opened his mouth to mercilessly tease them for being caught in a compromising position, he stilled, nostrils flaring.

The wind shifted.

Koen Raad became absolutely still.

The Dragon roused, senses hyper alert and sensitive to the subtle change in atmosphere.

“Attack and you die.” His voice was quiet with violence. He spoke into the jungle at their backs, still not bothering to rise, though his arms tightened around Marina as she tried to stand. “You may as well show yourselves. You allowed us to sense you.”

Melting from the shadows and separating from the trees cloaked men clad in long-sleeved, thinly woven tunics, and loose trousers coloured in earth tones ghosted down the sand dune.

Their heads were covered in the ebony tagelmust denoting the Desert People’s rank of Battle Mage. The wrapped swathes of fabric obscured their features, veiling their mouths, jaw, and covering the roots of their dreadlocked hair, leaving exposed a strip of skin showing their grey eyes and aquiline noses, the tips of brands on their tanned cheeks. The remaining fabric folded loosely around their necks.

Each wore a simple sash at the waist in which was tucked a plain silver dagger.

Magick twisted around their open palms in gyrating spirals.

“You are far from home.” Eyes fixed on Marina’s face, beautiful even caught in the grip of shock, Koen only spared the group a probing look when his statement led to nothing but silence. “Why do you do this? Always have you been respectful of my territory.”

“Our fight is not with you, King Raad. Give us the woman.”

“Were you hired by a House from the Wyvrae Court?” Daniil shielded Koen and Marina with his body. “I am Dragon Lord Daniil of house Kol of the Ice Realm. I demand–”

“We know who you are.” Irritation deepened the Mage’s husky accent. “Our business is not with you or the Dragon King. Give us the woman.”

“The female is mine. My Treasure. This means your fight is with me. Anything that concerns her concerns me.”

When they remained silently hostile, Koen sighed, and relaxed his grip.

Marina neatly rolled into her feet, guarded, and battle ready.

Koen leisurely stood and stretched. Screwing up his face, he magicked his leathers. “You have ruined my twilight.” And it was his favoured time of day. But he was feeling magnanimous. His beast was so sated by its mate’s petting he was contented to recede and let the man handle the invaders. “I am peace. Because of this you may leave this place alive. As long as you do so before I wear dragonskin.” His equable manner turned menacing. “Then you die.”

The lead shadow took a threatening step. “We cannot.”

“Do not do this.” Daniil lifted an arm defensively in warning, palm facing outward, fingers spread, as if his willpower alone would halt the confrontation. “He offers clemency. Take it.”

One of the cloaked shadows cursed. Another made a mournful sound, a sad warble that ended in a resigned hiss of frustration.

Their reluctance did not escape Koen’s notice.

The lead Mage barked over his shoulder, and the eddies of magicks around their hands intensified, twisting around their arms and twining around their shoulders in thick ropes of energy.

Though his features were covered the Mage’s eyes revealed a hardening of his resolve.

He lifted a hand, a globe of flames appearing in his palm.

That summoning of power was antagonistic enough for Daniil. He shifted mid leap in a swirl of sparkling magick that lit the beach in a flash of pure light.

The Mage drew back his arm and spun with ethereal grace, the sash of his band whiplashing around his hips as he hurled the sphere of flames with a throaty cry.

The ball of flame exploded and ripples of heat surged above them.

Koen dived, hooking an arm around Marina.

A bolt of lightening wreathed in fire followed. The jagged blaze of light was hotter than its predecessor. It sizzled as it struck the ground, and sand erupted into the sky to fall as crystallized rain.

He snared his Treasure beneath the bare skin of his torso, immense physique bulging with tension as he used his body as a living shield. To Koen’s surprise, Marina remained calm and still, accepting his protection. Her dark eyes bored into his and to his utter shock, she winked, grinned, and smoothed her hands over his back. His return smile was blade sharp, his dark humour a match for hers.

Another ground shaking explosion of sand, fire and jewel-hued light.

Koen grabbed his female and rolled.

Throwing up an arm to cover her head, his whipped around. He growled menacingly over his shoulder, and bared his teeth in a snarl.

Even then his Dragon remained dormant. Its energy only just began to quicken, waiting, predator-still.

The Mages advanced, openly displaying offensive magicks.

‘Go.’ Daniil ordered. ‘Get Marina away from here.’

Transformed into a smooth-backed Dragon with sapphire scales, he reared onto his haunches.

His arched chest glowed brightly.

Cold light rocketed up his throat then exploded from his mouth in a hail of dragonfrost.

Deadly shards ripped through the air, slamming into the torso of a Mage, and the upper arm of another, knocking them off their feet and down the beach.

The others vanished then reappeared as transparent, shadowy figures darting closer, hemming him in.

Increasingly aggravated by the attack in his territory, Koen gained his footing with Marina cradled in his arms.

She tapped his shoulder.

As she was calm and controlled he set her on her feet, pushing her behind him when the Mages Daniil hadn’t engaged fanned out to surround them.

Marina was annoyed, not worried about her fate, or the outcome of the encounter.

A handful of men couldn’t defeat Koen Raad.

Rubbing the small of his back, she whispered into his ear. “You’re aware I can fight?”

Koen snorted. His eyes tracked the circling men. “You have nothing to prove to me. I am aware of your warskill.” His fingers brushed the back of her hand when it hugged his waist. “I have watched you.”

Warmth at this whispered confession chased away the lingering shock from the ambush.

Curious, Marina turned her attention to the attackers, excited to be in proximity to the mysterious people of the Wastelands separating the Fire Kingdom and Ice Realm.

The tallest Mage detached from formation, his power of magicks burning at a greater intensity than the others. “Give us the woman.” His glottal stop was deeply pronounced making his guttural words punchy and halted. “She will not be harmed.”

‘You break the treaty between our people and invite war.’ Daniil retreated. The deadly spike of his tail cracked side to side. He bared his sharp teeth, and wispy vapour poured from his mouth chilling the air. “The state of affairs is yet redeemable. Surrender.”

Indecision poured from the tallest Mage. Emoting so potently, Marina felt his frustration, as it was her own. “War will find you, Dragon Lord.” The Mage met Marina’s gaze. The steely grey of his irises were stormy. “It is not us who broke the treaty.” He signalled with his hand and the magicks surrounding them flickered and died.

Darkness enveloped the Mages, as if the night sympathized with their plight and thickened to shroud their bodies.

Sand whisked into a tornado and covered the entire beach in a gritty sheen of white.

Koen pulled Marina into his chest and cupped the back of her head, shielding her soft flesh from the harshness of the sandstorm.

The twister of sand and wind died.

The Mages were gone.

Daniil shifted and magicked his clothes. He was unharmed, expression tight with fury. For a long moment it seemed his emotions robbed him of speech. “They dare?”

Thoughtful, Koen released Marina’s head only to wrap his arms around her waist.

The Dragon slumbered uneasily, perturbed by the encounter.

Marina rested her chin on the back of her hands that lay on his chest. “Did you feel their remorse?”

“How can you be so calm?” Daniil demanded. “They have broken the treaty. A legion crossed into the Fire Kingdom and attacked royalty.”

“Was standing right here.”

“And I did not see a hundred men,” Koen said dryly at the exaggeration.

Marina leaned to grip Daniil’s arm, because he looked ready to go hunting. “I’m not stressed for three reasons. One, I never got the sense they were here to hurt me. They wanted to take me somewhere alone to talk.” Her brows pulled together. “Though I haven’t the slightest inclination why. Even if they were out to harm me they didn’t stand a chance against the three of us. Why would I panic? Two, I sensed intense frustration and regret from their leader. That’s not the aura of a man who wants to start a war. Lastly, I’ve dealt with too much shit today. You have my word I’ll freak out tomorrow. Right now, I can’t take any more. So we’re going to look at the positives. None of us were hurt. We have no knowledge of their intentions other than they wanted a private chat, so desperately as to try and bluff the Dragon King.” She didn’t back down from his anger. She met his gaze, deadpan, daring him to defy her. “Drop it until tomorrow.”

“But–”

She held up a finger. “No.”

He broke the stare, backing down. “Koen?”

“A night to sleep on what transpired will not harm us.” Koen held up a hand when Daniil huffed prepared to argue. “Marina has a point.” And he found her dominance over another male arousing. It told his more savage instincts she was strong enough to claim, to be his mate. He focused. “We were not injured, and after their scare tactics failed they retreated. I did offer leniency.”

“They attacked. That renders the promise of mercy void.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be all about peace?” Marina asked archly.

Lips peeling back in a snarl, Daniil glared. “Not when it comes to those dirty savages.”

Staggered by his antagonism, she gaped, incredulous.

His narrow-minded discrimination was upsetting. It was the first time she’d witnessed intolerance in Daniil. She didn’t like it. In fact, it unnerved her to see this unsavoury side to his character.

Was he prejudiced of the Desert People?

The thought floored her.

“There’s no need for name calling,” she said tightly.

Even Koen appeared unimpressed by his Second’s attitude. “Holding Court with Myron at nightfall with news of an attack by a feared enemy will cause panic. A contingent of men scouting the boundaries of the Barren territories bordering our Kingdom is sufficient. It will keep.”

“Koen–”

“My decision is final.”

Daniil raked a hand through his warrior braids. Shook his head. “I have bad feelings. This is a mistake.”

“Come.” Holding Daniil’s shoulder, he met the other male’s gaze. “We will take my Treasure home then reason this as we have done since infancy. Together.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Marina wanted to be disgruntled. Being excluded from Daniil and Koen’s discussion about the Mages could be perceived as overprotective. The matter directly concerned her.

It was she they tried to abduct after all.

Only because she had more pressing concerns did she let Koen get away with slyly sending her away to ‘recuperate’.

Where was her son was hiding?

Boy was suspiciously absent. Usually she saw him throughout the day, but since Aver had officially begun he’d become a ghost.

At dawn she’d slipped into his bedroom to talk, but his bed had been empty, the sheets warm, as if he’d left not a minute before she’d arrived. She’d returned to her room frowning, using the incident as proof he consciously avoided her.

Rolling out of bed, she let Pasha fuss over her, and left a trail of destruction in her wake. Freshly bathed, she dressed in the colour of her house, black.

She grabbed a piece of fruit from the lavish breakfast set out for her every morning.

“You know the drill,” she told the servants, waving a hand over the meal.

They nodded, smiling, and wishing her a good morning. They gathered up the foodstuffs.

Calling goodbye to Pasha, who hummed a ditty as she straightened the room, Marina left to find her missing son.

Knee high boots clomping loudly down the stone hallway, she bit into the red and purple flesh of the fruit. She was rewarded with a sweet, juicy pulp and her taste buds sung.

Distracted by the scrumptious flavour she almost forgot why she aimlessly wandered the halls.

After a moment’s contemplation, Marina grudgingly headed to Mikhail’s rooms. Boy often spent a great deal of time with his grandfather. It was as good a place as any to start, and more productive than drifting until she stumbled across him.

She might not even be successful in her search.

Boy possessed the innate ability to find people, and he could evade her for hours using the skill.

It was how he’d been able to slip into her room to kill her the day they met.

Mincing up to the ornate screen, she rapped her knuckles against the wood frame.

The wait stretched and she tried not to jump to conclusions.

The embarrassing fight between her, Cathryn and Mikhail had been spread Kingdom wide by nightfall as expected. The night before, Marina had been so tired from training and preoccupied with the Mages attack, she barely noticed the whispers and smirks.

In the sunny morning light, the shame of it had her cheeks burning.

She really didn’t have energy or time to dedicate to something this foolish.

Before Koen found her at beach, she’d thought hard about what Cathryn said. As she cried, she relived the argument and felt weak with confusion at their behaviour and hers.

Admittedly, she’d not been overly receptive of Mikhail’s overtures to grow closer. There was so much to accomplish in so short a time she’d assumed their relationship would survive on the backburner, left to simmer until she figured what she wanted from him, and what she felt able to give in return.

Cathryn’s arrival had thrown their lack of emotional connection and loyalty into stark relief.

Marina intuitively knew if she and her Sire were closer, Mikhail would have understood how much Cathryn meant to her and consequently would never have trespassed.

A cynical side of her nature scoffed.

He knew I loved Cathryn enough to drag her across dimensions to gain favour with me, but not enough to keep his paws off?

What pained her most was she felt they’d put their needs over hers. Fine, she got it. There were times you were attracted to someone and needed release, but why now?

The weirdness of it took too much for her to process, and worse, there was an underlying feeling of being offended on Almeria’s behalf.

Which made no sense because her mother had left Mikhail, relinquishing her claim. She knew for a fact her mother slept with other men in the human dimension.

How could she hold Mikhail to a higher standard based on that?

Possibly she felt threatened by the concept a Phoenix could lust ardently after another female and forget his Treasure?

Disturbed, Marina shuddered.

Losing her mother had been hellish. For months she’d teetered the edge of a complete mental breakdown, not understanding why the accident happened. She hadn’t had any family around her except Cathryn during that awful period. Her friend kept her sane, and Marina had clung to that connection, revered it as she had the lost one with her mother.

Was it fair to react so harshly towards Cathryn because she’d fallen from the pedestal Marina shoved her on?

There was movement in the room.

Whispering.

Eyes downcast, Marina crossed her arms. Holding back her anger grew tougher. “Could you hurry up? I have things to do.” She cringed, hearing how bitchy she sounded with her own ears.

The screen opened a fraction.

Mikhail’s bare chest blocked her attempt to enter. Dark eyes were wary. “Daughter? I had not expected–”

“Have you seen my son?”

“No.” Mikhail’s forehead furrowed with concern. “Not since the day before yesterday.”

Worried now, and done with the conversation, she turned to leave before she said something to regret.

Mikhail caught her troubled expression. “He is missing?”

“No one’s seen him.” She paused, considered her options. “The last was Pasha. She said he seemed in a world of his own. He slept in his bed last night, but was gone before dawn. The servants haven’t seen him. Not that they’re any help since they go out of their way to avoid him.” White lines bracketed her mouth. “They’re afraid of him.”

“He likes to be solitary, and is talented at concealment.

“True. After what happened last night it’s safer if he remains close though. Koen and I want him within reach.”

“Last night?”

“Mages,” she said absentmindedly, wondering where to check next. Boy often took lessons with Regent Myron, but with Aver in full swing she knew the lessons were placed on hold. “They attacked Koen, Daniil and I off the main shore, a little way from the port.”

“The Barren Ones entered the Fire Kingdom?” Mikhail’s voice was furious, truly beyond horrified. “They broke the treaty? Attacked. Are you alright?”

Snapping out of her reverie, she met him glare for glare. “What do you care? Wait.” She flashed both palms. “We are not doing this. It’s none of your business how I am.”

“Marina, you are my offspring. So we have suffered a difference of opinion in a private matter. We shall get past it. Your welfare is my business.”

Arrogant to the core, Mikhail had simplified and compartmentalised their argument until, as far as he was concerned, she overreacted. His demeanour was condescending patience, as if she were throwing a tempter tantrum.

It pissed her right off.

“Yesterday you told me you were sorry to have hurt me.”

“I did.” He sounded frustrated. “I am.”

“Let me in.”

“What?”

“Move aside and let me into your chamber. Do so and we’ll forget yesterday as if it never happened. We’ll set aside time to talk about some of the issues, but for the main part we’ll have a clean slate. I’ll even hear you out about your fling with Cathryn.” Her jaw worked as she ground her back teeth together. “You do respect me enough to talk to me about it before you do anything with her again, right?”

Shoulders slumping, he looked ashamed. “Marina, I–”

“You won’t let me in because Cathryn is in your bed.”

Mikhail’s earnest look died. His lips worked, but no denials escaped them.

“The way I see it, if you were truly sorry and affected by what I felt you would’ve at least tried to mend the bridge between us before you went there again.” She stared him in the face, letting him see how badly he’d screwed up. “So you misunderstood how much she meant to me the first time round. You assumed I’d be okay with this. I accept that. Shit happens, and as Cathryn said, we are all adults here. But after the way I reacted yesterday there was no uncertainty. You knew how strongly I was against a relationship between you.”

“You do not tell me what I can and cannot do.”

“No, I can’t.” She rubbed her forehead. “Whether my reaction was right or wrong, justified or not, someone who cared about me would have let me cool off for a few days then spoken to me about it. You didn’t. You disregarded my feelings and took what you wanted. Again. That’s fine. As you say, it’s your right. Just as it’s my right to feel betrayed when my parent expresses a wilful indifference my feelings. So, you no longer have a say in my life, and I don’t want you as part of it. I need people helping me stay sane, not trampling over my emotions and fracturing my concentration. I need people I trust. You no longer fall within that category. You’re no longer welcome inside my inner circle. Neither is she until she apologies.”

Mikhail exhaled shakily, eyes burning. “You are my heir. There is no way for you–”

“Distancing myself is best.” She met his gaze. “Koen is protective right now.” An understatement. “I could keep you around for appearances sake, but he’d feel the tension and react badly. If you’re sleeping with Cathryn she’d be around a lot more. I’m barely keeping him from going after her as it is let alone to dangle her in his face all the time.”

“I shall protect her.”

“Glad to hear it. She’s lost my protection until she apologizes. Boy and I will have moved rooms by nightfall. I’ve inherited my mother’s wealth, so I’ll pay you back for any losses you’ve incurred putting us up since I arrived.” She paused. “I’ll also pick up any of Cathryn’s expenses up until you took ownership of her welfare.”

There was a muffled thump and a terse, “I’ll pay my own way,” from behind the screen.

“This is absurd,” Mikhail said tightly. “I do not want your coin. You are my offspring and heir to House Zar. You have responsibilities to our vassals that do not disappear because you are angry.”

“Before Almeria took the name Zar she was Ryu, daughter to the beloved sister of the Lord who leads them. Found that out yesterday when I asked about accommodation here at the Citadel. House Ryu is here for Aver. I sent word and they’ve offered me inclusion into their House should I desire it. I met a boy at the feast, my cousin if you can believe it.” Having a second cousin and a great uncle was a big deal to a woman who’d grown up with one blood family member. “He impressed me. Their House is now mine until I legally join Raad.”

“It is not an Imperial House.” He sounded offended to be passed for a House of lesser power. “Ryu is barely noble, Almeria was the best of them, and her Sire was tremendously powerful.” His eyes flashed. “They are not even Drackai.”

“I respect the ice breathers. I’m honoured to be related to them by blood.”

“Bah, I respect them. My Dragon is part of them, but they are less.” He growled knowing nothing he said would sound good. “Chosen bear the name of their Sire. It is tradition.”

“Big mistake preaching to me about tradition.” She averted her gaze. “So that’s that.” She fell foul to the bitterness roiling in her gut. “I hope it was worth it.”

“This is not distance but severance. You punish me.”

“I admit I felt a small need to get back at you. I got over it. Honestly,” she jerked a shoulder, “I can’t deal with negative emotions you’re inviting into my life. I’m exhausted all of the time. I have people trying to kill me. Boy is going through some serious changes and gets a fraction of my attention. He deserves so much more. Aver is the most difficult thing I’ve ever participated in, and it hurts me to be away from Koen. Physically hurts. There’s so much going on, and I expected you to become this rock I would lean on. Someone other than Koen or Daniil I could depend on.” Her voice sounded hollow. She realised how much she’d wanted to be close to this male. “That’s gone now.”

“But why?”

“It just is.”

“I made a mistake.”

“Same mistake twice, actually.”

His hands fisted. “All this because your friend and I are intimate?”

“No. Koen helped me see things more clearly. And after I tossed and turned about it last night, I realised Cathryn was right. You’re grown ups and not related. The only connection you have is me. I told you, I understood that you underestimated how important she was to me. She’s my sister. You are my father.” Her voice coarsened. “While I could divorce the concept that you would be a father to her as well, I cannot ignore the fact that you failed in your duty as a father to me.” She sucked down a breath. “I failed you too. Perhaps if I’d been softer ... easier to talk to we would’ve developed loyalty between us.” She gave a sad smile. “My objection was never to you yourself, only what you represented.”

Mikhail’s lips thinned. “I represent loss?”

“Hope. Hope I had another parent who loved me as much as my mother did, and hope that we’d be as close, maybe even closer, as I was with her. I think I’m more like you than her.”

“So much time has been stolen from us. I will never forgive Almeria for that. Never.” Pale, Mikhail scrubbed hand over his face. His voice was hoarse. “I would never betray you.”

“But you have. I understood the first time. After ranting for a few days I would have worked through it.” She motioned to the room beyond the screen. “This second time cements the betrayal. You decided my opinion didn’t matter.” She blinked rapidly. “I’m sorry for the way I acted. There. That’s all I have left to give you right now.”

He shook. “Marina–”

“If you see Boy ask him to find me?”

“I lose him too? Will you keep him from me?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Marina started towards the stronghold throne room in search of Daniil and Koen. “You love him, and he adores you. I won’t stand in the way of that.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Bored of the Red Citadel and its grandiose ornamentation, the stressed ambience of the room grated on Koen Raad’s nomadic concentration.

He hooked a leg over the armrest of his throne.

Sipping from his goblet, he wondered if Marina had found Boy yet. She’d been worried about him on their journey back to the Citadel. The attack barely fazed her. Her calm reaction reflected her unwavering confidence in the strength of his protection, and that warmed him, and made him feel worthy.

He knew eventually it would be instinct to allow her to protect him while in battle, but it did his pride good to know she trusted him as he would have to trust her.

Myron paced the floor beneath the dais, craggy face so tense his wrinkles smoothed. “Why? Why now? After so many years of peace, why would they dare trespass now?”

“We are closer than ever to an Emperor ascending the throne.” Daniil lounged on the steps leading to the dais under the throne meant for Koen’s Treasure. He lethargically broke his fast, picking at a plate of roasted meat. “Perhaps they sense now is the opportune time to sow discord and uncertainty. The Kingdom is in disarray until the new Queens are crowned. While martial strength is at its peak with the Wyvrae gentry here for Aver, the ice breathers may not support the alliance between Realm and Kingdom while the thrones sit empty.” He shrugged. “And no Emperor to convince them otherwise.”

“That is not why they wanted my Treasure.” Koen stared at the empty bottom of his cup. “If they had wanted chaos it would have been prudent to send an entire legion across the border to slay her. We would have been unprepared and hard pressed to protect her.” It galled him to admit it. In order to save her he would’ve had to run from battle, a thought that sickened his beast to the core. “By approaching us so boldly they alerted us to their hostile intentions. I sensed their invasion was an opportunity to avert a war not begin one.”

“Idle speculation gets us nowhere.” Myron threw up his hands. “This may have been a genuine act of war endorsed by the Grand Mage, or simply the act of exiled troublemakers.”

Daniil licked his fingers. “Ask Khan.”

“It will offend him,” Myron protested. “He will believe I ask because we concluded he must have been involved.”

“So? You know he will know something. At the least give us an indication of what prompted the attack. Even if we discover their identities we can investigate their allegiances.”

“Such questioning will not only offend his deep sense of honour, but ruin the trust he spent years building here.” Myron was livid. “Dragon Lords do not extend trust to Mages. Against all odds he has made friends here. If we do this he will become a pariah.”

“Sacrifices must be made.” Daniil pinched his nose bridge. “It is not a favourable course of action, I agree, but I see no other to expedite answers to our growing concerns.”

“Harassing servants is not acceptable.” Myron turned to face Koen Raad. “I will not allow this.”

Daniil cocked his head. “Why are we assuming Khan had nothing to do with it? Often the most obvious answer is the right one.”

“He is beyond suspicion.” Eyes barrowing, Myron’s pacing increased in speed and length. Angry spots of colour appeared on his cheekbones. “I dare you speak against him again.”

Brows lifting, Daniil flashed both palms, shrugged in a gesture of retreat.

Koen was torn between allowing the Mage the freedom to live out his life in peace and without suspicion – something he earned at a high price – and ensuring any plot against Marina was brought to light.

Whilst day-to-day administration of the Fire Kingdom fell to Regent Myron while a female transitioned from First Chosen to Queen, threats of war fell directly on Koen’s shoulders regardless of monarch.

Anything concerning the military might of the Dragon Lands was his remit.

Only in times of war did his power supersede the Dragon Council, the will of both Queens, so even now as he investigated his hands were tied.

He simply could not cross into the Wastelands and demand answers from the Eldernmoot. Such a move required approval from the Dragon Council. They would never agree to such a risk during Aver, not when there was a chance Koen would finally ascend to the highest sovereignty in the land, uniting the people as one.

“We could ask Khan if he would be willing to help with our investigation.” Koen sat straight in his chair, resting his hands on his knees. He disliked feeling unsure. “No one will force him, Myron.”

“It does not matter. Gossip will slander him from a humble Court physician to the bloodthirsty leader of an uprising. The result is the same if we implicate him in this matter at all.”

“Reports of this will spread,” Daniil pointed out practically. “We must involve Dragon Lords at some point, and they will speak to their trusted advisors, and wives, who will talk to others. It is inevitable. We cannot change who Khan is, an exiled Mage. No matter he was banished by his people as penance for foiling a plot to overthrow peace by coming to you, Regent. His noble deed will be forgotten and his presence here regarded with fear when it is known the Dragon King and his favoured Chosen were the victims of an unprovoked attack by the Barren Ones.”

“I will not let the threat of slander mar Khan’s faith in his safety with us.”

Koen huffed a breath. He understood both points of view, but neither gave him what he needed, a diplomatic yet progressive solution. “What do you suggest as a substitute plan, Myron? Sending a party of men across the border to discover answers?” He of course would lead the team after the Regent was granted permission from the Dragon Council.

They didn’t have to know their successor lead the party until he was long gone.

Pausing his agitated stomping, Myron clasped the edge of his robe as he spun. “But if those who attacked you were mercenaries acting alone and the Eldernmoot find Dragon Lords infiltrating their province we end up breaking the treaty. We instigate war.”

“Then give me a solution as Daniil has done. You cannot oppose a logical course of action and give me nothing in exchange.”

Myron made a gesture of frustration. “There is no risk free solution in circumstances this volatile.”

“Then I speak with Khan.”

“I demand we consult the High Princess.”

The unexpected petition had Koen’s brow lowering.

Involving his Treasure in this situation was unacceptable. Should anything bad transpire because of any action they took he would not have her blaming herself.

Moreover, she was occupied with other troubles.

Dealing with the Mages without embroiling her further was the sole reason he’d been content to steer her to conclude the nasty business with Council Mon Mikhail, and see to their offspring.

Koen opened his mouth to flatly refuse then grimaced.

Protest died on his tongue as a familiar intoxicating scent drifted into the room. He remembered that scent wrapped around him with Marina’s soft limbs.

Immediately, he was hard, ready for her.

Wincing as his cock swelled to painful hardness, he shifted uncomfortably on the lushly padded seat and fought a tremendous urge to track the delicious aroma, so as to luxuriate in its source.

“Ask me what?” Marina poked her dark head around the ornately carved entrance. “Do you know three servants from different Houses were out here eavesdropping?” She strolled into the room munching on blush-ripe firefruit. Hips swaying, her black leggings were indecently tight and moulded to every sweeping curve. Her tunic ties hung loose, the crossed strings stretched across her breasts. “I shooed them off, but they’ll be back.” She licked fruit juice off her lips then sucked on a dripping finger, cheeks hollowing. She released the glistening appendage with a wet pop.

Sweating, Koen eased himself to the edge of his throne, shifting balance. He bent his knees. A sigh originated from the base of his throat and eased past his lips at the relief from the throbbing pressure at his groin. She wasn’t even trying to invite him, and look at the state he was in. He’d denied himself the exquisite surrender to be found within her flesh for too long – too long!

“Don’t we post guards to prevent that sort of thing?” she asked.

“We didn’t want the guards hearing something they should not,” Daniil answered.

Marina bowed at Myron. The fringe of her hair fell into her eyes and she dislodged it with a toss of the head. Eyes sparkling mischief, she ascended the stone steps holding Koen’s lambent gaze.

Slipping between his bent thighs, smiling when his white-knuckled hands gripped the arms of his throne, she gracefully lowered and spun giving him her back.

Seated between his legs she kept her hands to herself – waiting for him to touch her. “How spot on is my timing, huh?”

Utterly distracted from the conversation, Koen fingered the silky whorls of hair at the nape of her neck. “Hm.”

Daniil’s response was darker. He narrowed his eyes at Myron. “Some would say it is opportune.”

Gold eyes gleaming, Myron smiled showing teeth. “Fortuitous indeed.”

Marina was either disinterested, or oblivious of the emotional undercurrents. “What am I being asked?”

“We discussed last night’s attack,” Myron said Myron quickly. “Debated over a course of action I do not consider wise.”

“Oh.” Marina nibbled on the last of the firefruit. “I wanted to be involved in this. I don’t have much background on the Mages though. I’ll give my opinion for what’s it worth.”

“I have the highest faith in you. You will provide fresh insight into our moral dilemma.” Myron brushed invisible lint of his arm, slanting the empathetic Princess a considering look out the corner of his eye. “Do you remember Khan?”

“Of course.” She unconsciously touched her cheek, obviously recalling the man’s distinctive brands. “He was the Mage who healed me after the quest. He was lovely – such startling grey eyes. He was so polite, and interesting. I’d love to learn about his healing art and his home in the Wastelands. Do you think he’d talk to me?”

The earnestness in the voice of a female who could command all but a few in the entire land to her bidding was shocking.

Koen debated if she was being coy or humble. He decided the latter. Her unassuming nature was one of the traits that made her so lovable.

Her fascination with the Mage was evident.

After seeing Battle Mages in action he knew her curiosity would grow rampant unless appeased.

He slid the wily Regent a dry look. His approach was inspired. Marina was an advocate of the needy waif. Myron painted Khan as a friend to be protected. All he needed now was to hint Daniil’s interview placed the Mage in danger, and the man would become untouchable. Marina would rise to his defence, resisting Daniil and his plotting until the end of days.

Koen may have uncovered Myron’s end game, but he would not intervene. He was curious. Marina needed to learn to navigate political conversations for the battlegrounds they often were.

What safer time to practice then with his mentor and battle-brother?

“It had been suggested we interrogate him.” Eyes sad, Myron’s whole body wilted. “It will bring him under much suspicion. The servants can be cruel to each other.”

“That’s the worst idea I’ve ever heard. Drag him in here on the heels of an attack by people of his ethnicity and you may as well stick a target on his back.” Marina scowled, shooting an angry look up at Koen then across at Daniil, who rolled his eyes, and stuffed roasted meat into his mouth. “Are you racial profiling? You are aren’t you? I won’t stand for it.”

Avoiding the accusing female glare, Daniil’s was exasperated and directed at the Regent.

Koen wasn’t sure if it was because he was truly upset Myron manipulated her so, or because he missed his chance to sway her first.

“I never suggested torture,” Daniil said gratingly. “Stop exaggerating to get your way.”

Myron cinched victory. Jowls quivering, he recoiled, hand rising to hover at his throat. “Torture?”

Marina growled.

All three males twitched, and reined their Dragons’ instinctive response to the challenging reverberation.

Shaking off a retaliatory snarl, Daniil stared. The whites of his were eyes bright and bewildered. “Did you just growl?”

Dabbing at his upper lip, winded, Myron chuckled. The hoarse laughter was a tad nervous. He’d not experienced such an abrupt surfacing of his Dragon in some years.

Stiffening, more at ease with his Dragon’s feral response, Koen’s calculating eyes shimmered power as they narrowed. The jewelled hue of his irises intensified, and his oval pupils burned as the animal within fought for control. He felt the sound rumble through her, felt her dominance challenging them. He pressed his fingertips into Marina’s hot, damp skin.

The muscles pulled tight under the dominant touch. Her shoulders snapped straight, resistant, and the swells of her breasts inflated as her chest heaved.

Electric static charged the air with a familiar pressure.

The absurd notion she was about to shift flittered through Koen’s mind, darkly whispered by his Dragon. The beast snarled its desire to roam free, and thickened the atmosphere with its potent magicks.

His hand clamped down on her nape.

Exhaling in a rush, Marina rubbed her temples. Trembled. Her back hunched, and she visibly shrank. And then he smelt the sweet, tangy scent of her arousal.

At the submission his Dragon withdrew, purring.

Koen released the breath he held. The hot tendrils of it coiled around his lips, revealing how close he’d come to breathing flame. Kneading the knots from the tense, moon-glow flesh that formed under his hands, he blinked in amazement.

Chosen were known to be aggressive, but this was astonishing.

Magicks had seeped into the air and underscored her anger. She’d growled from the latent creature within, from her Dragon soul.

Pride welled within his heart.

Such manifestation of her strength shouldn’t alarm him. It should amaze him. His Treasure was extraordinary in more then her beauty and compassion.

She was fierce.

“Khan will be left alone.” Fidgety, Marina focused her indignation on Daniil. “You can’t go around torturing innocent people. Koen.” Her voice was all grievance. “Say something.”

He rubbed her back soothingly and cocked a brow at his mentor. “You insinuate much, Myron. Go easy. My Treasure is new to the subtler nuances of Court theatrics. You will have her summoning a battalion of Dragon Men to guard Khan by nightfall.”

“As if that lordling,” Myron flicked a dismissive hand at Daniil, “would not use every calculating technique in his arsenal to sway her to his way of thinking.” Myron sniffed, but then smiled at Marina. Crinkles appeared at the corners of his ancient eyes. “I may have played on your sympathies, but understand, Khan is a good man. Undeserving of the dishonour of being called to serve in this manner.”

Brushing his knuckles across her jaw, Koen watched Marina study the older male. She was cautious with Myron. Their relationship was resigned to a carefully cultivated respect because of Aver.

Koen didn’t believe she’d allow her own misgivings cloud her judgment on matters of state.

It would be satisfying to be proven accurate in such an apt situation.

“Treasure, the attack must be revealed for what it was. Either mercenaries stirring trouble, or a genuine act of war by our known enemy.”

“The Mages aren’t our enemy,” she insisted. “We have a treaty making them allies. We should give them the benefit of the doubt. Allow what happened last night to slide.”

“It is not that simple. They are known as treacherous. We cannot turn a blind eye only to be devastated by another attack we could have prevented by taking action.”

“Then you’re breaking the treaty by intent. You can’t sign a declaration of peace whilst secretly believing it will never hold.”

Koen snorted. “Did they not attack the Dragon King and his Treasure?”

“They didn’t want to. I know you felt that.”

Scooting until her back pressed against the seat of his throne.

Her hand wrapped around his knee.

It was a controlling touch, much like when she supped the side of his throat.

He loved it.

“And if it wasn’t an issue of state at all?” she asked in a odd tone.

Daniil paused in selecting another piece of meat, rejoining the conversation. “Marina?”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

The connection between Boy’s growing powers and the Mages attack was too glaring to ignore. Marina hadn’t wanted to say anything. She might not have made the link had Boy not been foremost in her thoughts all morning.

She still hadn’t found him, or found anyone who’d seen him.

Myron appeared taken aback when she finished speaking. “You cannot believe the youngling had anything to do with the assault?”

“No.” Marina firmly shook her head. “I don’t think he’s doing anything wrong, but I’m not oblivious to the fact he’s going through something I’m struggling to understand. He’s only just coming to trust me fully, and it’s been a stressful time for everybody, so I’m not upset he hasn’t said anything. That’s for us to work out between ourselves. But....”

Koen curved his body over hers, wrapped his arms around her. He felt her fear as his own. “Treasure?”

“What if they sense it?” Her voice was small. “The Mages. What if they sense power born of their people growing here? They might think we took somebody.”

Troubled, Myron stroked his snowy beard. “Why would you think this?”

“The leader said, ‘It is not us who broke the treaty,’ when I warned them of the outcome of their actions.” Daniil shifted uneasily. “I assumed he sought to mislead us.”

“Maybe that’s why they were looking for me specifically.” Marina’s voice grew confident. “I sense Boy’s magicks easily. It must be effortless for them even over a greater distance. Like recognises like.”

“But why did they come for you and not him?” Daniil pondered aloud.

“It’s not a secret I adopted a child with an accent. Besides, imagine how we’d react if they stormed the Citadel and tried to take a child claimed as my son by force?”

Koen exhaled sharply.

“A blood bath,” Myron muttered. “To take one of ours by force is to invite death.”

Marina relaxed a fraction. At least they were in agreement there – touch Boy and blood would be shed. “That would explain why they were desperate to talk to me alone. Maybe they wanted to understand how it all came about.”

Daniil nodded slowly. “It fits. They would be able to correlate a missing youngling with Boy’s age. They would have discovered the rumours of the adoption easily. It is spoken of throughout the Dragon Lands.” Daniil looked at the middle distance deep in thought. “It is likely they investigated this for some time before they approaching you in the open. The Eldernmoot may have convened as we are now, wondering why a magick-gifted youngling was kidnapped from their desert and why. A lack of answers would have compelled them to act.” A look of certainty hardened his expression. “Those Battle Mages were sent to question you with their full support. It is what I would do in their place if being cautious. It just so happens the Dragon King was with you when they approached turning this into a political nightmare.”

They fell silent.

“Boy will be protected.” Marina focused on Daniil. Instinct pressed her to remind him particularly Boy was untouchable. “We stole no child, only gave a lost one a home. We’ll tell the Mages this. Let’s contact this Eldern Moot and request a talk.”

“Such a thing was avoided in the past.” Koen nuzzled her neck. “The treaty breaks then there is war.”

“I’m far too busy with Aver to help you fight a war.” Her voice dripped with exasperated amusement. “Instead of retaliating aggressively, we’re going to toss olive branches over the territorial line in the sand.”

“We are to poison them?” Koen sounded disgusted by the subterfuge. “Using these olives?”

“No, fool.” Daniil mimed clapping him upside the head. “We are to hit them with the branches.”

“Oh, no, no.” Marina cringed. “It’s a human gesture of nonviolence. I assumed it would mean the same across dimensions.”

“Oh.” Koen paused. Shared a baffled look with Daniil. “I see. We may not have these olive branches, but we can throw fire weeds at them if it pleases you.”

“They sting badly,” proffered Daniil, blue eyes solemn. A hint of naughty lurked behind the ignorant facade. “That is as nonviolent as we may get.”

Myron’s lips twitched.

They understood what she meant. The other two were being difficult, savage natures tantalized by the threat of war even as they sought to prevent it.

“Don’t you have a symbol that invokes peace?” Marina strived for patience. “A certain type of plant or bird people identify with goodwill?”

The witchy glow of Koen’s eyes brightened to a crafty glitter.

“Ah. I understand.” Smirking in his bastard-beautiful way, as if she said something quaint, he stroked her cheek. “This ‘peaceful gesture’ is a female whimsy, is it not?”

The smile became a wicked grin.

Finally understanding he teased her, she scowled. “You’re achingly close to a kiss with this fist.” She shook her balled up hand under his nose. “Watch yourself.”

Daniil chuckled. “I shall arrange this parley. It is the safest way forward now we have a better idea of their intentions.” He hesitated. “It is imperative you speak to the youngling.”

“I will.” Marina’s original worries swamped her. “As soon as I find him.”

Koen placed his hand over hers. “We shall find him together. Come.”

Marina followed Koen as he left the great hall and strode down the empty corridors.

People sensed him coming and abandoned their tasks to scarper from the fortress entirely, or dash into crevices to hide behind statues of Dragons Lords, peeking from their cubbies.

She understood there was a measure of what they called dragonfear at work, mainly they left out of a deep, abiding esteem. Koen’s Dragon was territorial, and the less people around him the better. It kept him calmer. So out of respect, they gave him space.

Koen’s large hand enveloped hers. His thumb rubbing across her skin in lingering sweeps that made her mushy inside.

The tension in his frame worried her considering who they looked for.

“He must be frightened,” she murmured. “He needs our understanding, not our anger.”

“I am displeased he did not come to us. I have been waiting.”

“It can’t be easy for him. He’s not stupid. He must comprehend that if he has magick and is not a Dragon Lord it means he’s a Mage. A race you hold a great deal of antagonism toward.”

“I accept I scare him. Why did he not go to you?” His words were more alike to thoughts being spoken aloud. His expression and tone were thoughtful.

Marina still flinched.

Guilt settled on her shoulders. “I’ve been busy with Aver. I should have spoken to him about this ages ago.”

“He cannot help himself by approaching you with his problems?”

“I’ve been neglectful.”

Koen spun so fast she bumped into him. It was like running into a stonewall.

She bounced off his broad chest and ended up staggering. He clamped his hands on her shoulders and dragged him into his arms.

Marina struggled fitfully.

It wasn’t good to do this so openly, but he refused to give her an inch and eventually her own need to be held overcame her reservations. She clung to him.

“I failed him.” Face burrowed in his tunic, her words were garbled. “Already.”

“Stop blaming yourself.”

“I’m not. Just stating the truth. This situation is spiralling out of control. It might not have had I been more observant.”

“You could not have predicted the Barren Ones discovering Boy was here. Even Daniil did not foresee this and he sees more than is good.”

“I kept thinking I’d shower him in attention and affection after Aver. After you and I finished the hunt and were married. After I’d dealt with Mikhail. After the Ice Realm was under my control. After I abolished slavery. After, after, after! How could I do that to him? Put him after all those things?” She looped her arms around his neck. Whispered, “I’m a bad mother.”

“Hush.” Koen stroked her head. “None of that. We will fix this.”

“I can’t even find him.” She shoved out of his arms and stomped off. “He doesn’t want to be around me.”

“Are you pouting?”

“Yes.”

He rumbled a laugh and scooped her up. “I have a feeling I know where he is.”

Koen took her to the upper levels of the Citadel.

Wrapped up in each other, they ignored the scandalized gasps of any who saw them.

Marina eventually gave up trying to look embarrassed.

In this male’s arms is where she belonged. They had to get over it. If a stickler like Regent Myron couldn’t keep them apart using tradition did they truly think gasps and looks of disapproval would?

They came to a simple wooden entrance.

Koen rapped his knuckles against it.

Marina looked at him curiously, having no idea where they were. The door swung wide open before she asked.

Stood on the other side clasping his hands together in a bow of respect was Elder Khan.

“I wondered how long it would be until you found me.” Elder Khan seated them around a round metal table.

He was dressed for comfort in a tunic and loose pants with a drooping square of material that hung between his legs to his knees, the ends tucked into his waistband front and back.

He boiled water in a blackened iron pot and offered his guests aromatic mint tea.

Marina drank hers without her customary grimace. The tangy liquid was refreshing, cleansing her palate of the firefruit, unlike the black bitter tea the Dragon Lords choked down in their tea ceremonies. She preferred the way it was served in charming hand painted glasses.

The serving was reserved and devoid of pageantry, leaving her relaxed and at ease.

As Khan busied himself preparing his own tea, Marina’s eyes wandered.

The room was decorated in plain swathes of earth dyed fabrics. Cool blue, warm brown, jungle green, and sandy beige. The fabric gathered in the centre of the ceiling, fanned out to the corners then rippled to the floor in sheer panels that stirred gently from the breeze drifting through the open window.

The floor wasn’t covered in the customary sea grass tatami mats.

Terracotta tiles were laid in an elaborate rhombus pattern, and intricately woven rugs were arranged across the middle in a strip where richly embroidered cushions were scattered.

Peppery incense burned on low tables covered in semi precious stones that glittered and sparkled in the sunlight.

She tried to find evidence of why Koen brought her there when she specifically said this man was not to be bothered.

“He is no longer here, young highnesses.” Khan took a sip from his steaming glass. His accent wasn’t as thick as the Mages from the night before, lessened after years of adapting. “As he felt you moving closer through the fort, Princess, he left.”

Marina nodded quickly rather than respond with words, not trusting her voice. Tears gathered above her lashes and blurred her vision. She was compelled to look an apology at Koen for thinking badly of him.

Khan had the answers she sought after all.

Boy was avoiding her.

“When I was young,” Koen began, “my parents were alive. They were wonderful, but when I discovered I was different it was not them I sought to ease my pain. I looked for someone as different as I was. That male became my mentor.” Lips thinning as a tear rolled down her cheek, he visibly tensed. “Khan is the only Mage we are friendly with. It made sense Boy would seek him out for that alone.”

“I never would have come here,” Marina mumbled. “That reasoning wouldn’t have crossed my mind.”

“My insight into Boy’s mind is not a slight on yours.” Koen took her hand and laced their fingers together. He used their joined hands to swipe away the wet tracks lining her face. “Parenting is a path two must journey. I share with you the burdens and joys.” He paused. Muttered crossly under his breath. “Earlier you said you failed him. So have I. I should have reached out to him sooner. Perhaps he would have felt he could come to me and speak about being different had I been more approachable. We have that in common, our offspring and I.”

“You have much more in common than you realise.”

Koen and Marina turned to the older man who watched their affectionate exchange with a sad kind of joy. His expression wasn’t quite envy, more knowing, and hurt because of that knowledge.

Marina wondered if he left a great love behind when he’d come to the Dragon Lands.

“They do?” she asked.

Stone faced, Elder Khan set his tea on the inlaid metal.

He calmly placed his hands on his crossed knees.

His white tagelmust hung in artful folds around his neck. It covered his salt-and-pepper dreadlocks, but his lower face was unveiled, exposing the dark brands on his weathered cheeks and his neatly groomed silver-speckled beard.

His mysterious grey eyes grew haunted. “Let me tell you a story, about a leader of men consumed by darkness.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Koen worried. His Treasure had not spoken since leaving Elder Khan. He did not blame her for her silence. The news the Mage had to impart was troubling.

“It will be alright.” Drawing her in an empty alcove for privacy, Koen banded his arms about her. He laced his fingers at her lower back to anchor her. “We shall get through this.”

She butted her forehead against. “I can’t believe this.”

“You doubt his claim?”

“Not at all. That’s what’s killing me. I want to tell him he’s wrong, but considering the attack last night, and Boy’s powers manifesting so strongly so early, I’d be a fool not to believe.”

“What do you wish to do?”

She rubbed his broad shoulders. “You should probably return to make sure Daniil and Myron haven’t scratched each other’s eyes out. I’m off in search of House Ryu. Our rooms need readying. I’m sure Pasha and the House servants are all over it,” she lied quickly, knowing he’d get snarly if he thought she wasn’t being treated with the teeth-grating obsequiousness the Houses favoured. “But still, I’d like to be involved.”

“You are not going to find Boy?”

“I have answers now. I’m thankful to Elder Khan for that. Now we can finally assure Boy no matter what changes he’s experiencing because of his heritage we won’t send him away. I need him to understand he can trust us unconditionally. That our love for him is unending. I’m sick with worry he feels afraid of what he is when he’s so special.”

Koen kissed her brow. “You will prevail, I am confident of this.”

“Thank you. You go ahead.”

She cupped his throat, fingers applying more pressure than usual. Though he wore leathers she could feel the firm curves of the hard muscle in his thighs pressed against her softer frame.

The otherness stirred, startling her, abruptly alert and present at the forefront of her mind.

It was a trial to let Koen go unmolested, but as she backed off, the presence grudgingly receded. “I’m going to rest here for a moment.” She forced a smile. “Clear my head before I face my newfound family.”

Brushing his lips back and forth across her forehead, he hesitated to release her. He picked up on her sudden tension and assumed it was because of the painful reminder of why she needed to find a new living space. “You are certain you cannot mend this rift between you and Mikhail?”

“You want me to?” She couldn’t keep the surprise from her tone. Giving into the urge to touch him, her hand wandered down his sides to his lower stomach. The otherness was there but unmoving. She almost sighed in relief. “I thought you wanted to maim him?”

“Not him.”

Grimacing, Marina resolved to not let Cathryn within arm’s length of him for a while.

“I may not like that he hurt you, but I respect what he has done for the people of Tzion, as Emperor and as a Council Mon. He is my elder, a Dragon Lord of note. I do not believe it was his intention to harm you.” He paused. “We all make mistakes.”

“Will it make you feel better if I talk to him as soon as Aver is over?”

Sharp teeth clamped playfully on her earlobe. “Only if it pleases you.”

The grudge against Mikhail and Cathryn was long gone. Marina simply refused to entertain any other distractions during the tournament. She had larger concerns, like Boy and the Barren Mages. The otherness. If agreeing to talk to Mikhail after Aver would make Koen feel better she’d do so happily.

“Alright. As soon as Aver’s done I’ll carve out an evening for me and my Sire to reconnect.” She smiled to convey her willingness. “Thank you for helping me this morning, and for yesterday. I needed that time with you badly.”

“Soon, we will have nothing but time.” He hugged her tightly. Shivered when she swept a hand over the blunted crown of his shorn hair then ran her fingers through the longer length at the back. “I swear to you.”

Koen left her and returned to the throne room.

It was vacant.

Myron and Daniil had taken their quarrel to a safer locale. Though he was tempted to return to Marina, he knew just where to look, and so put duty first.

Slipping out of his clothes into dragonskin he used a window as egress and dug his claws into the red rock parapet. He nimbly scaled the hard, pitted surface and slinked onto Myron’s stone balcony situated at the apex of the Citadel.

There his closest allies sat sipping fireberry wine and eating great platters of fresh grilled fish.

Dragons loved seafood.

Freshwater fish was delicious, but nothing beat a three hundred pound catch straight from the deep.

Turning human then magicking a loin flap in response to the Regent’s pointed look at his naked groin, Koen scooped up a chunk of hot, succulent flesh and tossed it into his mouth.

Subtle flavours exploded across his tongue.

He took another, letting his mind settle along with his posterior on one of the heavily padded seats.

Sipping from his goblet, Myron gave him the time he needed to gather his wits.

Wiping his mouth, with a square of cloth, Daniil proved aberrantly impatient. “Well?” The Dragon Lord leaned over and placed his elbows on the table either side of his plate. Eyes keen, lips whitening. “What did you learn?”

Koen shook off the last of his distraction over the haze of unhappiness he’d sensed surrounding his Treasure. “We visited Elder Khan.”

Myron stiffened. “I thought–”

“Marina protected the old man.” Koen gave his mentor a level look. “Boy has been going to him in secret for training. Did you know of this?”

The Regent set down his drink then folded his hands over his still flat stomach.

Koen knew he stalled for time to carefully choose his words.

And politicians wondered why he couldn’t stand them – always scheming and lying to people’s faces.

At least a warrior was honest.

A male lunged for your throat with claw and fang there was little to doubt about his intentions.

Politicians danced around an issue, smiling, and calling themselves friends then stabbed you in the back when you least expected it.

He disliked Myron played these games with him.

Was it a wonder he had trust issues when the people around him acted thus? He smiled in the face of his bitter thoughts. It was yet another reason he loved his Treasure so. There was no duplicity in her, no secret agenda in her affection for him.

Her passion was as raw as his.

Perhaps his original plan to subdue her and steal her away to his secret lair–

“I recognised the youngling for what he was the moment I set eyes upon him,” Myron confessed, glib. “Why do you think I offered lessons? Out of the goodness of my heart?” He gave a dragon like snort. “He is extraordinarily bright. I wanted to take his measure and see if he truly was a misplaced orphan, or an assassin sent to catch you and the Princess at your weakest.”

Daniil caught the eye twitch. “What?”

“Nothing,” Koen lied smoothly. He glanced at the Regent. “Continue.”

Myron eyed him suspiciously, but did as asked. “After the incident with the broken hand and exploding furniture, I knew he needed guidance from his own kind.”

The incident in question made them all nervous.

Boy had crushed the hand of a fellow lordling from one of the noble Houses. It was the second incident of its kind. The accuser claimed Boy attacked him without provocation causing the youngling’s mother to goad the Sire into noting a blood feud on the political stones against House Zar. Rather than disturb Marina, Mikhail accepted the challenge then thrashed his adversary so thoroughly stories of his brutality flared through the nobility, causing his offspring to find out about the whole confrontation. Marina had isolated Boy to gather the truth from his lips, refusing to listen to any second hand tale. When she left his chamber and returned to her training there had been a thunderous ruckus that caused the floor to shake. When his door was opened, Boy’s chamber was trashed. In the space of a few seconds his solid wood bed – that took three Dragon Men to move – had slammed so hard into the outer rock wall it was wedged there. Koen discovered the lordling Boy injured spewed hateful rumours about the High Princess. He spread the common assumption Marina gave birth to Lord Kol’s bastard then pretended he was an orphan she’d found. This was accepted as the reason why she’d failed the purity examination, which she then subsequently bribed her way around. The whole circumstance had merely been a youngling overhearing malicious whisperings then testing his growing manhood by picking on Boy, someone he considered weaker and beneath him in status. The challenge on the political stones was an overreaction only granted by the Regent because he needed to show in as many ways as possible that he did not favour the Zar’s.

In the end, Koen understood and accepted Boy’s reaction, even if no one else did.

Truthfully, he was not surprised Myron identified Boy’s origins and sought to help.

He and Marina were distracted with other matters, otherwise they would have done so themselves – hence his Treasure’s bout of guilt.

Regardless, Koen felt as if the male had gone behind his back. He felt possessive of Boy almost as much as Marina.

“That was not you decision to make,” he said finally. “You should have come to me or my Treasure.”

“Khan needed to show him how to control his gifts before he hurt someone.” Myron made a dismissive wave with his hand. “You and the Princess barely cope with your responsibilities during Aver. It is not uncommon for family to help with any young when matters of state become convoluted.”

“I am honoured, old one. You see the boy as one of your own–”

“As a grandson,” Myron interjected, clearly pleased with the turn of affairs.

Koen had been a bachelor for years, seemingly destined to spurn any female that drew to close.

Marina had changed that, and while he was hard on her because duty command her be, he held a paternal affection for the feisty female.

She reminded him of his own long dead treasure.

Strangely, his Dragon now considered her as more dominant since the odd confrontation in the throne room.

His mind circled the overt display of aggression then dismissed it.

“Indeed. But my Treasure is beside herself over this. She feels she neglects our offspring. If you keep taking such liberties it will make her feel worse.” Koen held up a hand. He was not finished, and would be heeded. “We cannot make astute decisions regarding our offspring if you interfere and hide things from us. Your protectiveness in this matter was misjudged.”

Myron scowled. “Boy needed–”

“Boy needs Marina and myself, our love and our trust. He needs our guidance, and to see we care. Otherwise we will forever simply be his benefactors, not his parents.” Satisfied his will was known and the matter was closed, Koen turned to Daniil. “You will contact the Eldernmoot and arrange a meeting.”

Daniil tossed his head, unhappy with the order, but nodded stiffly. “As you wish.”

“Good.” Koen nabbed another chunk of meat. “I go to find my Treasure.”

“You spend far too much time in her company,” Myron called to his broad-shouldered back. “The Houses will complain.”

Attention diverted to where his female had gone, Koen waved over his shoulder. “Let them.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

The corridor was well worn, the decorative screens so old they had transparent patches. Marina nodded at the guards dressed in scarlet livery who switched their focus her way.

Their eyes widened and they snapped to attention.

One knocked frantically at the wooden door that severed as the entrance to the Ryu apartments.

The door opened, and the guard whispered to another who peeked, paled then disappeared to announce her arrival.

Marina patiently waited, eyeing the guards worn uniforms.

She’d been surprised when she’d been directed to the lower bowls of the Citadel, ignoring the odd looks the servants had given her when asked for directions to Ryu House apartments.

Clearly, no one expected her to be down here. She’d thought it was only storage down this low.

The guards waiting with her began to sweat. However uncomfortable they may have looked their chests remained puffed, spines back achingly straight.

Just watching them made her feel tired.

“Relax.” She gave them friendly smiles. “I’m not going to take your head off if you slouch.”

The guards tossed her strange looks and remained at attention.

Sighing, she eased back on her heel, balanced her upper back on the wall and settled down to wait.

The otherness kept making itself known, in a much more blatant fashion than before. In the throne room she’d felt a heartbeat from turning around and going for Koen’s throat. Only his rough, uncompromising grip on the back of her neck calmed the feral surge.

She didn’t know what to make of it. It scared her. Who knew what would’ve happened if Koen hadn’t been there, a steady wall of dominance she didn’t have a to hope of smashing through.

The most frightening is that the otherness hadn’t been scared, but excited. It purred its approval in her mind while she’d sat hunched and trembling.

Lust had followed on a wave of adrenaline leaving her hot and squirming.

None of the males said anything, but their flared nostrils and heated eyes spoke volumes.

The door yanked open.

“High Princess, an Honour.” Lord Ryu bent to step out of the entrance and straightened to his lofty height. He was a slender male, with broad shoulders and light blonde, wavy hair styled into the low, blunt-ended Dragon Lord Mohawk. His eyes were kind and his smile soft and warm. His strong features reminded her so much of her mother. “Be welcome.”

Truly feeling welcome, her bottom lip wobbled as she smiled and followed him into the apartment.

It was warm and charming.

There was a fire, but it was more for atmosphere than a need for warmth. The Fire Kingdom was more often that not muggy. The heat from the volcano kept the residents toasty during the winter months.

There was a large table with benches, a couple of cosy leather seats by the fire, and an open space where a young male she immediately recognised stood quivering in badly hidden excitement.

Eyes wide in his thin face, his hand nervously gripped the pommel of a ceremonial sword almost as big as him.

Ryu crossed the room in five giant strides. He gripped the boy by the shoulder. “Princess, you have met my heir?” Pride oozed from his voice and love shone on his weathered face.

“He sat next to me at the feast after the first quest.” She winked at Viktor. “He helped me make an important decision that night. You can’t know how thrilled I was to learn he was family. It makes me proud.”

“You make us proud,” Viktor said, voice breathy with nerves, lisp more pronounced. He made a visible effort to slow down. “For all you accomplish.”

She tugged on his sleeve playfully. “Why didn’t you tell me you were my cousin?”

“He would never presume or act so bold,” Ryu replied in his blushing offspring’s stead. “The connection is tenuous at best, Princess.”

“Not to me. You’re family. You’ll never know what it means to me that you exist.” Marina slugged the older male on the shoulder. “So call me Marina, or Rina. I am your niece after all.”

“Very well. Call me Sevastyan.”

“Uncle Sevastyan.”

Lord Ryu hesitated then nodded, a wry curving his lips. “When I received a message bearing your seal, I never imagined it would come to this. You truly seek refuge?”

“If I’m welcome. It wouldn’t be appropriate to stay with Koen until after Aver, and I refuse to stay in the Zar apartments any longer. A matter of pride.” She drummed her fingers on her thigh, wondering how her request would be taken. “I’d like to take on the Ryu name until I’m formally joined to House Raad.”

Shocked, Sevastyan’s head jerked as if struck.

Viktor sucked down a breath. “You would bear our House name?” His pitch climbed a decibel. “During Aver.”

“Well, I am Almeria Ryu’s daughter. I was hoping it wouldn’t be too much to ask, especially since you barely know me, and all the attention it’ll bring don on your heads. I have to be honest with you, not all the attention is positive.”

“There is always gossip to contend with,” Sevastyan said dismissively. “It is our way of life.”

Gathering himself, he pointed to the table and steered his dazed offspring in that direction. He allowed himself to lean heavily, using the youngling for support to overcome his own astonishment.

As they sat clay pitchers of fireberry wine and platters of grilled flatbread was brought over to them. Dishes of pickled and mashed legumes were brought out for dipping along with spiced oil.

Marina happily munched on the provisions, ignoring the slightly stale condition of the bread, the tartness of the wine. The platters were chipped and the goblets dented.

She remembered what Mikhail had said, that House Ryu barely clung to their noble ranking. She had meant what she told him. She didn’t care if they were an Imperial House or not, if they were poor or not. She might even be able to help with the latter if they’d let her. It was the least she could do since they seemed to be genuinely considering letting her stay.

She hoped they did.

It would be embarrassing to return begging to Mikhail after making a big show of rejecting his handouts.

Marina covertly studied her estranged family.

The Ryu males looked thinner than they should.

It worried her, and left her upset her mother hadn’t seen to their needs before she jumped dimensions.

Truthfully their lack of wealth didn’t matter, yet she could tell they were proud of what they had, and any gold she offered would get a swift dismissal.

Helping them without offending them would be tricky.

Daniil would know how to fill their coffers on the sly, she was sure, and she made a mental note to ask yet another favour of Koen’s everlastingly busy Second.

Lord Ryu openly studied her back before sighing. He set down his goblet. “Marina, may I speak freely?”

“Sure.”

“Are you using us as part of some elaborate plan that will cost us?”

She froze. Another piece of flatbread smeared with chutney stopped halfway to her gaping jaw. Swallowing the lump of bread already in her mouth, she licked her lips and dropped the food. She swiped her fingers on a sturdy square of cloth. “Why would you think that?”

“Because the idea of you giving up the name of an Imperial House to take ours is, forgive me, madness.” Sevastyan decided being blunt was the only way to approach this. “Honoured as I am to have you here, I have no wish to see my House become collateral damage. I do not wish to be used then discarded. Forgotten.” His eyes slid to Viktor and away. “There must be something left behind for my heir.”

“Oh.”

Marina rubbed her blunted fingernail over the circular wood grain.

She knew she asked a lot of him. The risk of taking her on was considerable. Assassins and jealous Lords would turn their attention on his House.

If she were in his shoes, she’d be close to saying thanks, but no thanks too.

“And what if I said I came to you because I felt I had no where else to go.” Her voice was small. “Nowhere else I felt safe?”

“But you are the High Princess,” Viktor blurted. “Anything you want should be yours.”

Sevastyan placed a silencing hand on his shoulder. One did not openly talk of weakness or lack in the Dragon Lands.

So naturally Marina bucked that and laid it all bare. You don’t ask you don’t get, she thought mulishly.

“Everything I possess belongs to Mikhail. Recently I was granted access to my mother’s gold vaults, but....” She rubbed her eyes. “Listen, I have no time to build a palace of my own. I barely have time to sleep at night.” She didn’t mind admitting to these people what a mess she was. Family trusted family. “I know it’s an imposition, but I swear I’ll pay you back any costs incurred and I’ll owe you one.” She sweetened the deal. “I’m a great baker. I’ll make you a killer thank you cake with chocolate frosting.” She paused. “As soon as I discover cocoa pods and figure out how to actually make chocolate.”

“Why leave Council Mon’s Mikhail’s protection?” asked Sevastyan, politely ignoring the babble. He sounded genuinely concerned for her welfare. “Why bring this trouble about during the tournament?”

Eyes flashing, Marina dug her nails into her palms as the otherness stirred at the memory of violated territory. “We’ve had a difference of opinion over his behaviour of late.”

“Ah. That.” Sevastyan shrugged at her raised eyebrow. “Rumours are flying that you and your Sire fought over a beautiful fair-headed woman. We always keep track of you.” Hearing how that sounded aloud, he added, “As all the Houses do,” as an afterthought. His bristled cheeks darkened with a ruddy flush.

She found his admission they kept track of her movements touching. She didn’t hear maliciousness in his voice, only paternal affection.

The accidental confession acted as a balm to the part of her hurting over Mikhail.

Marina rubbed her eyes harder, wondering why they itched and burned so much of late.

“Her name is Cathryn. She’s my best friend.” She looked at Sevastyan, letting him see how upset and tired she was of the situation. “And now she’s now Mikhail’s lover. We fought over it.” She sighed remembering the angry, resentful words that passed between them, still not quite aware how visceral her reaction had been, how predatory. “I decided I no longer wanted to be around him. Their relationship is too distracting. Right now my losing focus would be deadly.”

“Agreed. Yet amongst this you trust us, people you barely know, to shield you when you rest? To not take advantage of what it would mean to have you in our home?”

Put like that he made her sound incredibly naive.

She nibbled her lip. Her gaze was sincere when it lifted to meet his candid one. “I do.”

Averting his eyes, Sevastyan collected his thoughts. He ordered heartier food and wine to be brought for their guest. Already, he could see that it would be difficult to deny this female anything she desired. The rumours of her servants’ loyalty held more credence. “You believe strongly in the bond of family.”

“Yes. Even if I didn’t, you’d be crazy to try and hurt me.” Her mahogany eyes sparkled dark amusement. “No Lord wants Houses Raad and Kol on their ass seeking vengeance.”

Rubbing his throat, Sevastyan chortled hoarsely. The thought was terrifying. “Bah, none of that matters. You are welcome. I admit before long I believe our modest way of life will chafe and you will leave us.” When she seemed puzzled, he waved a gauntlet. “We have little to offer, but it is yours.”

“It’s nice down here. Cosy.”

He snorted. “It’s a prison compared to the Imperial apartments.”

“Is it secure?”

“Impenetrable.”

“I know someone who’ll be putting that claim to the test.” She grinned. “As long as it’s safe I’m happy. I don’t need much but somewhere private to sleep. I have to insist on privacy because, well,” she shrugged, “people keep trying to kill me, you know?”

“Indeed. Your servants?” Sevastyan’s bushy brows drew together deepening the creases lining his forehead. “I barely have enough room to house my own staff. Where will your princeling sleep? We have but one guest room.”

“Boy roams at night. He sleeps in whatever nook he finds or with me at the foot of the bed.” She cleared her throat to hide the quaver in her voice. “At least, he used to sleep in with me. Otherwise, he simply blends and adapts. As for servants, the only permanent member of staff I need is Pasha. She refuses her own room to sleep on a pallet beside my bed.” She barked laugh and slapped the table. “This is perfect. I have a valid excuse to send the rest packing. Pytor can deal with them at Zar palace. I told them I didn’t need so many people waiting on me, but more and more turned up every day. It was driving me crazy. I couldn’t pee without someone waiting to wipe my– Uh–”

Gasping, Viktor burst into guffaws before slapping a hand over his mouth.

“Not really appropriate table conversation is it?” She winked at him. “If Pasha was here she’d be twisting my ear and saying language Princess.” Laughing with him, she ruffled his cute half grown Mohawk and got back on topic. “I don’t have much stuff. Mikhail can keep the gowns and jewellery. It does mean I’ll need to go to the market before it closes for new tunics and leathers.” She offered Sevastyan an apologetic look. “I hate to ask, but could you spare a small guard? Koen will roast me alive if he finds out I wandered into a populated area alone.”

“A contingent of men will be made available to you for all your needs during your stay. We have no other Lords sworn to us, but my Dragon Men are well trained.” Sevastyan’s gaze bounced over her head. He motioned sharply to a stocky, swarthy-faced man hovering unobtrusively by the door. “This is Vadik, Captain of House Ryu’s Guard. He and five of his best will be yours to command.”

Vadik bowed low. His ebony skin gleamed. “An honour, majesty.”

“Why are you wearing armour?” Marina asked, fascinated by the intricately decorated yet well worn metal suit.

It was almost medieval in design, reminding her of the armour ancient samurai wore.

“Majesty?” Vadik looked questioningly at Ryu who simply nodded, indicating he answer. “We always wear battle armour while on duty.”

Marina crossed her arms and leaned them on the table. “The Drackai don’t. I began to think the ice breathers are more war hungry.” Her head tilted as her gaze swept up and down.

Oddly, her mind catalogued places her claws could penetrate and her teeth puncture.

Which confused the shit out of her because she had neither claws nor fangs.

“I see you’re just more aware, more disciplined,” she finished quickly as she realised they watched her. She gave the forced smile she was getting good at. “It’s impressive.”

Vadik blinked. A small smile lifted the corner of his mouth. “Most nobles do not think such a thing. They believe we are brutish oafs with no concept of fashion.”

“Since when does a warrior need to know about fashion?”

He stared dumbly.

Eyes widening and throwing his head back, he roared a laugh, his teeth a white slash in his dark face.

The Dragon Lords jumped in their seats.

Marina grinned and patted his armoured arm. “I think we’ll get along just fine. Would you and your men meet me by the door in an hour to escort me to the Citadel vault then the market place?”

“As you command.” With another bow, Vadik left to carry out his orders.

Sevastyan was bemused. “I’ve never seem my Captain so at ease with a stranger. You surprised him.”

“Seems I have a habit of doing that. People in this dimension are so judgemental. I could see as he walked over that he decided not to like me.”

“It is a matter of self preservation. People are either friend or foe. It is in your best interest to view all as an enemy until they prove differently.”

“Hm.” Marina let that one go. She could see the sense in what he said considering Tzion’s thriving backstabbing society. “The only thing I can think that might take up room is my weapons and armour, but Daniil takes care of that. He knows the best way to polish and mend it, so he keeps hold of it.” He no longer trusted others to watch over them. It was another task he’d taken she’d have to convince him to relinquish. She glanced around. A few cushions and pictures gave the place a homely feel. Cherished weapons were mounted above the fireplace. “This room is large enough to hold meetings ever so often, as long as you don’t mind. I’m sure the Regent will allow us another space for official business if you’re not comfortable with that. I understand you may have your own political aspirations. Koen or Daniil will lend me a room easy.”

“The King ... Lord Kol.” Viktor stuttered their names with a touch of reverence. “They will come here?”

The Ryu males exchanged a panicked look.

“Probably. They spend time relaxing with me when I’m not training or strategising.” Marina looked at Sevastyan speculatively. “Actually, it would be great to get a new perspective. I rely a lot on Daniil when it comes to ill winds blowing my way from the other Houses. Your input would be wonderful. If you’re willing to confer with us, Uncle.”

Hot under the collar, overwhelmed, Sevastyan cleared his throat. “We don not have much to offer such great Lords.”

“No need to be modest.” She peered around unconcernedly. “Pasha will take care of that stuff when she finds her way down. I won’t put undue stress on your staff. They have enough to do looking after your family and men. If my presence gets too much, or if Koen and Daniil get fussy don’t put up with their domineering bullshit. Just let me know.” She wagged a finger at them. “I’ll deal with them.”

Sevastyan had to laugh at the idea of this female ordering about the feared Dragon King.

Apparently whispers they bonded before the Hunt were not exaggerated.

Viktor had elatedly recounted his time during the feast, avowing they were genuinely affectionate, but his offspring was naïve in such matters. He had little contact with females due to his speech impediments.

He’d been wrong to discount his the observations of his offspring.

Sevastyan motioned to his staff. They loitered nervously by the door with towering platters of food. “You truly wish to stay?”

“As long as you don’t mind the parade of people coming and going, I’d love to stay and get to know you both.” Marina leaned back as a servant placed a clean plate and cutlery in front of her. “Thanks.”

The maid arranging the last of the meal startled. Eyes wide, she dipped into a curtsy before bolting back into the kitchens.

Oblivious to the wondering looks the Lords were giving her, Marina twirled her wooden, unvarnished chopsticks as she sniffed at the food.

Sevastyan’s face heated as he thought of the fine silverware and china the upper Houses enjoyed. “I am sorry we have so little to offer you. We weren’t expecting guests. We eat humbly unless there is a special occasion.”

Marina barely heard him. She was famished since she passed up breakfast that morning. She dove into the steaming bowls of plain rice and fish.

Stuffing a forkful in her mouth, she froze. “Who’s the cook?”

Sevastyan eyed her worriedly.

Berthilda had been with him for years. She was getting on in age, and her meals weren’t as inventive as some, but her punctuality and ability to make provisions stretch made her a great asset.

The thought of having to replace her for a wasteful, pompous chef to please his royal guest made his stomach churn.

“Something displeases you?”

“It’s delicious.” Marina groaned, filing her mouth and licked her lips. “I haven’t had anything this good since getting here. I mean, the foods nice, but they keep giving me nothing but red meat.” She made a happy noise and licked her lips. “Funny, because I never used to eat seafood before.”

“The fishermen bring in fresh catches daily, but it all goes to the Dragon Lords, especially during Aver. Our beasts love it.”

She blinked, digesting this. “Oh.” Taking a mental step back, she realised the otherness was rolling about in her mind, colouring her perception of the meal. “Well, this is perfect. The fish is succulent and flaky, the rice is soft and tastes like coconuts.” She sighed. Pleasure washed over her unease. Her stomach rumbled, her mouth watered, and the food was glorious. “Koen’s going to love this.” She wolfed down the rest of her plate, pausing to gulp water when the steaming rice burned the roof of her mouth. “I don’t know about you, but I’m having seconds.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Marina stared agog at the mountains of gold hers to spend. Grabbing a leather pouch, she filled it until the seams bulged then gave each of her guard a solid gold sovereign.

They balked, repeatedly tried to give her the money back, but she insisted they get one gold coin a week as payment for their extra duties in guarding her.

Vadik explained it was more than their monthly soldier wages, but she waved him away after giving him his own coins.

She knew and they knew protecting her was one of the most dangerous jobs in the Kingdom, even if it came with unmentionable honour attached.

Satisfied with her new situation, Marina strolled through the market place the Tzioni people called a souk.

Relaxing, she let her attention drift. She took her time to soak in the energetic, friendly atmosphere. She stopped at countless stalls to sift through luxurious bolts of fabric, perfumes, oils, and staggeringly cast array of grooming products.

Having simple tastes, she purchased bricks of seaweed soap, a crystal vile of conditioning body oil that smelt like peppermint and vanilla, a wide toothed comb made of wild Dragon bone, and a beautiful braided hair clip for when her hair grew out.

She stopped at the tanner and ordered two pairs of new boots, as well as purchased a ready-made woven belt with leather sheathes at each hip for daggers.

She took one look at the finely woven tunics at the next stall and bought all of the merchant’s stock in her size. She cleaned out the leathers thinking it was better to stockpile a style and fit she liked in case she was too busy to shop for a while.

The grey-haired man pressed ankle-length, tulip-shaped skirt into her hands, insisting it was suitable for fighting yet enhanced her feminine curves. He grinned, not a tooth in his head, mentioning the last, making Marina blush furiously, and laugh when her shy reaction encouraged him to beg for a kiss.

The guard from House Ryu were alert yet accommodating. They didn’t grumble when she had them carrying armloads of goods in a train behind her, and she thought that was sweet of them.

A stocky male with hazel eyes, and a quick, crooked smile called Dmitri, reminded her in a monotonous voice she’d paid them well.

He softened the comment with a sly wink.

Catching the shameless remark, the others laughed their agreement.

Vadik refused to carry anything, arguing his duty to guard her body. It was a charge he took seriously.

Gawkers that blocked their path were dispatched with a feral growl eerily wolf like. The large man prowled ahead, gaze constantly roaming, seeking a threat.

A steely look from his stormy eyes, a colour she’d never seen on such a dark-skinned man before, had grown men running.

When she cautiously mentioned how beautiful she thought his eyes were, his dour expression cracked into a grin that stretched ear to ear.

Marina had long ceased chaffing under the watchful eyes of guards. They were there to keep her safe.

While she could take care of herself in a pinch, it took a load of her mind relaxing and enjoying herself while in public.

Yes, it was unnerving to sometimes look and see a group of people staring at her when they figured out who she was. Faces were often dumbstruck with awe, or in many cases, lust, if the group was young males who didn’t know better than to covet the female of the bone-crunching, overprotective Dragon King, but she learned to simply smile, wave and move on.

The people of Tzion were of course curious about her, and there was no crime in that.

Some even sidled closer to offer her congratulations on her victory against the ice wolves, or compliment her ‘magnificent beauty’, which she found amusing. Though she had her own quirky thing going on, she couldn’t hold a candle to Anastasia’s icy beauty or Galina’s fiery gorgeousness.

Though the guards swelled to surround her and ordered the onlookers back, she found it sweet, and rather amazing the people cared enough to have an opinion one way or the other.

While she allowed her guards to protect her as they saw fit, she did intervene in Vadik’s safekeeping when he almost took a young man’s head off when he pulled a flower from behind his back.

Vadik wrongly assumed the youth carried a weapon.

Blocking his attack, viper-quick with her thrusting arm to knock him back, Marina smoothly accepted the pretty bloom and sent the brave, if somewhat shaken, youngster off with a kiss to his cheek.

Most of the afternoon passed uneventfully.

Then Marina spotted a group of Citadel soldiers harassing a group of beggars. She wandered closer, particularly worried at the rough treatment a guard dolled out to a scraggly child whose clothes were more rags than coverings.

The solider grabbed the urchin by the scruff of the neck as the others scattered like roaches.

The waif squirmed trying to break free. “I did not steal it.” The high voice identified the dirt-encrusted urchin as a girl. She kicked the soldier’s shin. “Let go.”

“Give me that.” The solider grabbed for the bundle the child clutched to her flat chest. “You are lucky I do not haul you in for thievery.”

“They gave it to me. Alms included food this morning.”

“Liar.” The soldier snagged the edge of the napkin and yanked. A bread roll, a bruised firefruit and a slice of meat tumbled to the floor. “None of the Houses give away fresh food.”

Wailing in distress, the girl dropped to her knees to gather up the humble meal.

Seeing the emblem on the napkin, Marina knew exactly where the food had come from. Before she could arbitrate, a husky voice demanded, “What happens here?”

The hairs on the back of Marina’s neck rose. The otherness gripped her tightly as it crouched, urging caution. Shivering, her skin goose pimpled, and for once she listened to the inner presence without hesitation.

After all, the otherness was just a manifestation of her more primal instincts.

She retreated to watch from the shelter of a jewellers stall. Humming in irritation, she impatiently waved a vendor aside when he tried draping strings of pearls along her neck.

The belligerent soldier spared a heated glance up, clearly pissed at the interference of his assigned duties.

He sneered threateningly until he spotted the broad shouldered Dragon Lord addressing him. His surly expression was replaced with thinly veiled intolerance.

“Catching a thief, my Lord.” He emphasised the last two words with more than a touch of sarcasm. “Be on your way.”

Marina blinked, stunned, and more intrigued.

She’d never seen such disrespect to a member of the gentry, especially not from one of the Red Citadel guards, from who she’d seen only blind loyalty and consummate deference to the Dragon Lords.

“Is that what she supposedly stole?” The Dragon Lord pointed to the now dirt speckled food. The fringe of his straight, spiky hair fell into his eyes, and the ice-white tail of his mohawk fell to middle back in a lustrous stroke. “Because she did not.”

“Look, this is none of your affair, snake tail.”

Tensing, Vadik hissed. The Dragon Men of House Ryu muttered angrily between themselves, and Marina guessed a severe insult had been dealt.

The Dragon Lord tilted his chin and narrowed his eyes to foreboding slits of luminous silver. “I make it mine.”

Disgruntled, the soldier looked about but found no support from his fellow guardsmen who watched warily from the sidelines, mingling with the inquisitive crowd. “Move along. I deal with this scum daily.”

“No.” The Dragon Lord crossed his arms and his armour reflected the dying sunlight brilliantly. It was tarnished, dented, but still awesome in its glory. “I want to know what you will do with the youngling. How you will repay her for the lost meal?”

The soldier’s eyes bugged. “Repay her?”

He shifted aggressively and the Dragon Lord surged forward to get in his face. The two men squared off nose to nose. Dangerous tension crackled between them.

The urchin squirmed until she slumped and glared at them with equal fury, not caring that one championed her. She was out a day’s worth of wholesome food that would have let her live to see another week.

Curious as to what would happen, Marina stilled Vadik with a lifted finger as he opened his mouth to thwart the confrontation.

She shook her head and hooked her thumb over her shoulder, ordering him back.

Vadik and his warriors knew the male, but she too recognised the voice. Marina didn’t want her memory tainted with new information and strained her mind for the elusive memory to solve the mystery.

The otherness remained wary.

Where did she know his voice? The male himself was not familiar to her, but she knew him. Perhaps she’d seen him at the feast, or one of the functions she’d attended? Her body was on alert, and she was not ignorant of the fact her instincts readied her to flee or fight. Was he a threat to her in some way? How did she know him?

She cautiously stepped closer; overriding the otherness’ snarled anger at the decision. “May I be of some help?”

Both heads snapped in her direction. The Dragon Lord blinked rapidly obviously recognising her.

The guard rolled his eyes. “Carry on, my Lady.”

Disregarding the order, she knelt and looked the urchin in the eye. “Where did you get this food?”

“It was given to me.” The girl’s chin jutted mulishly and her eyes dared anyone to call her a liar. “The servants toss scraps every morning not eaten at the Lord’s fine table.” She waved the cloth the food had been held in, embroidered with House Zar’s symbol. “The last few weeks they have been throwing us fresh meat and bread every morning.” Her face creased in satisfaction. “I put on some weight.” She scowled at the guard who still had hold of her. She shook a grubby fist at him. “I am not a liar, and not a thief.”

“Okay,” Marina said with grave respect. She stood and looked the guard in the eye. “Let her go please.”

“On whose authority?”

“Mine. I wouldn’t question it.” She sighed when the man swelled with indignation. “Not because I’m looking to cause trouble, or undermine you, but because certain people who care about me don’t take offense to me lightly.” Her eyes fell on the skinny child gazing at her lost meal forlornly. “You will give this girl a coin to buy the food you ruined.”

The guard turned crimson. “Damn you interfering nobles to hell.” His eye twitched crazily. “You come here from your bountiful lands during Aver and act so high and mighty thinking you must know better than us, the ones who actually care about the citizens who must survive when you are finished eating and drinking everything in sight. I will not pay this creature. She will likely slit your throat to steal your purse the next time you venture near because you are fooled into thinking she is tame.”

Marina’s mouth fell open.

“I keep this city safe from vagabonds,” he raged. “Not you. I take my orders from the Imperial Captain. Not some scruffy looking ice bitch.”

“Ho!” This time Vadik was heard. He pushed Marina behind him and shoved his brawny body in the guard’s personal space, towering over him. “Address the High Princess as Your Majesty, and curb your filthy tongue, or I shall cut it out.”

“Majesty?” At the stone like expressions of her protectors, the guard paled. “High Princess,” he whispered, eyes darting side-to-side. He shuffled back dragging the child he seemed to forget he was holding with him. “The King will throttle me.”

Vadik snorted. “Burn you alive is far more likely”

Following the conversation with half an ear, Marina peered at her clothes. The simple outfit was rumpled and stained from everyday living. She brushed crumbs off her chest and picked at something dried on her leathers. Scruffy? Marina knew she didn’t compare to the Court women who dressed in ostentatious robes and glistened with fist-sized jewels. She didn’t even try to outshine them regardless if she had the means to or not. But scruffy?

“Enough.” She valued what the gruff guard said, his caustic delivery notwithstanding. “Give the girl her coin and move on. We’ll forget this ever happened.”

The Citadel soldier fumbled for the worn leather pouch at his side. He grabbed a coin and without looking chucked it at the girl and bolted.

Cursing, Vadik shifted to go after him.

“No.” Marina clamped a hand down on his forearm. “Let him go.”

“He was disrespectful. He did not even excuse himself.”

“Let it go.” She patted his arm. “You’ll find I’m not one to stand on ceremony. He did what I asked, so we’ll leave him in peace. It’s not a crime to have an opinion.”

The Dragon Lord who’d originally intervened on the urchin’s behalf silently begun to blend into the shadows.

The urchin wasn’t far behind.

“Not you two.” Marina didn’t bother turning around, merely nailed them to the spot with a voice unexpectedly profound.

Vadik remained stubbornly resistant to letting the Citadel guard go with impunity until she lifted a brow and finalized her will with a hard look unnervingly piercing.

Something else stared from her eyes and grabbed the man by the proverbial throat.

Eyes dropping, he stepped to the side, feeling a little like he’d been blinded-sided by a typhoon.

Turning to the child, fully expecting the Dragon Lord to wait, Marina studied her with a critical eye. “Will that be enough to replace what was lost?”

“Yes.” The girl clutched the coin to her sunken belly. She stared angrily. “I did not need help. I care for me.”

“Where are your parents?”

“Mamma died having me and Papa was killed last year during a border fight.”

Uncertain, Marina glanced over her shoulder.

Vadik stepped forward to murmur, “Battles of honour are commonly held at the boundary line between Drackai and Wyvrae. Territorial disputes between Dragons and Mages also create collateral damage.”

“I don’t understand. Fights between Dragon Lords and Mages break the treaty.”

Vadik quieted, uncertain. His tone was reluctant as he answered. “Oftentimes these skirmishes do not reach the ear of the Regent.”

She shot him an alarmed look. “And why not?”

He averted his face and shrugged his armoured shoulders.

Disturbed by what she’d learnt, Marina crouched, one hand on the ground to steady her. She made a point to look the girl in the eye. “Do you know who I am?”

Eyeing her up and down, the girl nodded. “Dragon King’s whore.”

As the Dragon Lord sucked down a shocked gasp, Vadik hissed.

This opinion wasn’t a surprise. Rumours of how she skirted around the traditional purity affirmation would be circulating the general populace. They were unlikely to die until she assumed a throne. Even then fictitious anecdotes would linger to cast a shadow of doubt over her character.

The truth was often harder to weather than a lie. This was the path she’d chosen, and she felt more than able to handle it.

This encounter was her baptism of fire, condemnation from the mouth of a child.

Understanding the girl parroted what she heard in passing, Marina’s face softened. “Am I now? Tell me, what’s your name?”

“None of your business,” Her sweet voice was mischievous.

“Oh, you wicked thing.” Marina grinned, elfin, loving the girl’s enduring sprit. It was unquestionably the reason she was alive against horrifying odds. “And where do you sleep, Madame?”

“Anywhere.” Her dirt-streaked face tilted towards the heavens in the unfathomable contemplation of youth. “I most like the caves in the jungle.” Her arms opened wide. “They are huge.”

“May I ask why you go there? Isn’t it filled with dangerous animals and dark at night?”

She shook her head, underfed, heart-shaped face serious. “Not really. There are more of us, and it’s safer than the city at night.” She looked around, leaned forward conspiratorially. “Bad men do nasty things to little girls like me. So we hide with the nice older boys.”

“I see.”

Abruptly bored, she pouted. “Can I go now?”

Sickened by the blatant oversight by the Houses in its care of unfortunates. Marina stood. “Of course.”

“I do not think you are a whore.” The urchin patted her arm comfortingly. Her attention was already fixed elsewhere. She scanned the crowd for trouble with bright eyes, keenly attuned to living on the streets if her jaded reaction to her prior circumstance was anything to go by. “I know where the whores work and you act nothing like them. If it helps.”

Marina knew the Fire Kingdom was essentially a city like any other, but this was the first time she’d been exposed to its harsher realities, and it depressed her.

“Get something to eat and stay away from the guards,” she said tersely. She hoped one day she didn’t look down and see this girl dead in a gutter. “Alright?”

Sniffing with grave distain the urchin spun and disappeared into the steady throng of people milling about the marketplace.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Gaston grumbled and crossed his arms. “Filthy little whelp did not thank you.”

“Manners are not a priority to that child. Survival is.” Marina clapped her hands together ridding her palms of dust. “Who sees to the Kingdom’s orphans, Captain?”

“I do not understand the question.” Vadik rest a gauntlet on his hip. “There are Alms for the destitute at sun up and sun down outside the fortress gates. Many orphans get food and cast off’s on the charity of the Dragon Lords. Is this what you mean?”

“It’s the same in your homeland?”

“There are no beggars,” Dmitri answered offhandedly.

Marina looked between the men who seemed unconcerned with what she perceived as a major problem. Her voice and air turned optimistic as she spoke. “There’s a system caring for those who find themselves in need in the Realm then?”

Sanguinity died at their grimaces.

“Ah, no.” Vadik itched his head. He picked up on her distress and was uncomfortable because of it. “Rarely do unfortunates survive the cold. Our city is nestled on a plain of ice, shielded by a desert wasteland on one side.” He motioned with large, scarred hands as he spoke, eyes hazy in memory. “Icy water is on another, and perilous mountains that are home to the Realm’s wild ones on the other.”

“I see.”

“Why do those two words from you make my balls want to shrivel?”

Smirking, Marina turned to the Dragon Lord who stood inconspicuously out of the way, listening to the conversation.

Marina stared into his silver eyes.

After basking in Koen’s dark looks he was something exotic.

Her memory stretched then tapered without answers. She had never seen this male before, yet the feeling of him being familiar remained.

“You know who I am,” she said.

“Yes, majesty.”

Marina realised all people from the Ice Realm called her that, as if they had already accepted her as theirs.

The otherness remained guarded.

The Dragon Lord offered a courtly bow. “We have not yet had the pleasure of meeting. I am Lord Jakob of House Lin.”

Marina scrutinised his colouring, accent and heavy armour. “So you’re a Wyvrae from the Ice Realm. We’re not related are we?”

He hesitated then bowed lower. “You are quite right. And no, there is no familial crossing in our ancestry.”

“I’ve not heard of your House before now.”

He smiled a little, his unique eyes wary. “I did not expect you to have. House Lin is strong and ancient bloodline, but lower gentry, Princess.” He paused. Bitterness and age old shame seeped into his expression. “Our Sire liked to gamble.”

“What you did for that girl was kind.”

“She was only small.” He was unable to hide a worried glance from under a fringe of mercury lashes. “I am persuaded the youngling will remember to respect her betters in future. Nothing more need come of it.”

“I feel as if you’re politely saying something and I’m not catching it. Be direct.”

“There are those in the upper Houses who do not suffer the disrespect of commoners.” He paused. “You asked pointed questions about here whereabouts. I was worried you might feel compelled to punish her lack of graciousness.”

“Proud lot, aren’t they?”

He started, remaining quiet.

“Don’t worry. I will find that girl and the others like her. Rest assured it will only happen when I’m able to offer help not cause more harm.” She jerked her chin. “Walk with me, Jakob.”

He shot a wary look over his shoulder at her scowling guard.

The Dragon Men ran their gazes over him with thinly veiled disgust.

Dmitry went as far as to bare his teeth.

“No harm will come to you while you’re with me. It doesn’t matter what they think.” Her voice rose and hardened. “They’re here to guard me, not judge who I talk to.”

At once her guards rearranged their faces and backed off.

With that taken care of, Marina strolled off, and was gratified to hear Jakob’s heavier stomp behind her. She waited until he reached her side before talking again. “Between me and you, I’d do shopping and such alone, but Koen would have a fit when he found out. Oh my. Look at that.”

Stopping at a stall tucked off the main path, Marina studied bold yet graceful arches and flourishes of vibrant ink on the large piece of parchment. She smoothed a finger around an arresting depiction of Koen Raad snatching her from the sky. His claws were extended and his enormous wings spread wide. Smoke and fire spewed from his yawning maw, and the ground exploded upwards in a dramatisation of what really happened, which was that Koen saved her impulsive, crazy ass when she thought it sane to get between giants fighting for dominance. Her body looked tiny and fragile in comparison to the Dragon’s mighty form.

“This is beautiful,” she said. “This is worthy of parting with coin.”

“Thank you, my Lady.” A young man covered in ink splatter stepped forward and bowed. “It is an account of the High Princess being saved by the Dragon she fights for.” His face held traces of baby fat, and his eyes were round and innocent. “It is the wish of my family she becomes Empress. We painted this in hope the great Dragon Goddess hears our prayers.”

Marina was stunned by the earnest hope shinning from his boyish features. “You were there when this happened?” She inclined her head to the scroll.

His eyes grew wide. “A foreign merchant as poor as I could never presume to enter the Red Citadel. The tale was brought to me by a servant indentured to one of the great Houses attending Aver.”

That explained why a number of the visiting people in the souk displayed no recognition of who she was. She fought for a Queendom, but hadn’t made an official public appearance since she’d been sulking over never ending personal issues.

A positive about remaining unknown is that she was able to get a true sense of the Dragon Lands. What she saw shocked her. The slave trade turned her stomach, and the disparity between the wealthy and poor became increasingly apparent with each interaction she had with the lower classes.

Daniil repeatedly cautioned her as to how to proceed in reforming the haughty, injudicious attitude of those who had power to influence real change among the commoners, but she had no interest in giving moneyed peers a chance to defend such an obscene level of negligence. She would have been more open to giving them a longer timeframe to invest in other profitable endeavours had she not seen the horrifying conditions the servants and lower class were exposed to.

A part of her sighed in relief that she’d moved from the Imperial apartments into the humble Ryu abode. There was no way she could sleep in the luxurious confines of the upper fortress levels knowing untold suffering happened below her in a land she declared her own.

Marina feared dictatorship, but the Ice Realm already possessed the reputation of acting well outside the recommended laws set out by the Dragon Council.

Her voice would be heard and obeyed there, and once she was Empress she’d make her will known in the Fire Kingdom too. The Drackai Queen would have a fight on her hands.

The sound of her guards taking up stance around the stall jolted her back to the present.

Marina raised her gaze to the merchant. “Do you wish her the throne because she’s the lesser of three evils, or because you believe she will be good for the Dragon Lands?”

Apprehension clouded the merchant’s previously ingenuous eyes. He flicked a panicked look over her clothes. Rather than answer her question he asked one of his own, “Forgive my boldness. You are of the gentry, but I see no House sigil on your, uh, garments.” He looked at Jakob and gave him a bow in line with his social rank, which Marina realised wasn’t much higher than the merchant’s own.

Marina cocked her head. “An answer for an answer. You go first.”

“Will my opinion cost me my life, Lady?”

Repressing the urge to rant – he reacted cautiously because he’d been conditioned to – Marina frowned, gathering her patience. She knew the gentry were heavy handed, but this was ridiculous. He was scared to offer his opinion in fear of his life. “No.”

Searching her face for the truth, the merchant’s hunched shoulders relaxed a fraction. “We have heard many great things of the High Princess’ benevolence and honesty.” He swallowed, hoping his words wouldn’t mean his death. “Personally, I have the highest of hopes for her to wear the Wreath. The Drackai often have the most revered Queens, but one day the Ice Realm shall have a Queen history remembers as the greatest.” His chest puffed proudly. “The fire breathers are bigger, but our Dragon Lords are fiercer and have great warskill.”

“I’ve heard that a time or two.” Amused, Marina smiled faintly. “Your answer was comprehensive Master....”

He bowed deeply. “Prokopiy, Lady.”

“Master Prokopiy. Thank you for that. I could see you were intimidated and afraid. That took courage.”

The otherness respected him, because it respected all kinds of strength, even the gentle kind.

Marina idly fingered the parchment. “I find it can be a headache to discover what people really think and feel. Lies are more readily accepted than truth here.” She flashed a vulnerable smile. “It’s difficult for me to adjust sometimes.”

At first his face was confused as he considered her words. He catalogued details missed by an unobservant man, her shorter than average stature, the unusual length of her hair, and uncommonly dark eyes. Finally, his gaze landed on the jade pendant strung about her neck. Customarily the pendant would only announce the wearer’s House affiliation, but worn by a Court female who is petite, short haired and possesses dark eyes like her legendary Sire....

The merchant’s back snapped straight and his mouth gaped. “Goddess help me.” His eyes grew wide and glittering. He stabbed a finger at the parchment. “You are she.”

“May I have it?” Marina untied her money pouch. “How much you want for it?”

“N-nothing. A gift, esteemed majesty.” He hurried to get the painting down, fumbling with its fastenings. “It is an honour for you to look at it.”

“Don’t be silly, Prokopiy.” The impatience returned. “I can see how much work went into this.”

The merchant rolled the parchment into a cylinder and wrapped it in sturdy cloth tied with string. He offered it to her with a bow. “Please. Take it. No charge.”

Unhappy, Marina put away the pouch and took it from him. “Thank you so much. It’s beautiful and I know Koen will love it. He’s an acquisitive guy at heart, but don’t tell him I said so.”

“To think the Dragon King will see my work...” Muttering fretfully, Prokopiy bowed lower.

Still unhappy taking such fine work for nothing, Marina handed the parchment roll off to Dmitri.

An idea sparked, so she returned her attention to the merchant. “Have you ever done official work?”

“Beg forgiveness, I do not understand.”

“I like the idea of recording important events. The rumour mill here is killer.” She propped her fists on her hips and nodded decidedly. “I have a job offer for you.”

“W-What? Employment?”

Vadik leaned forward. “Majesty, you could just order him to do whatever task you wish. Payment to peoples of lower rank is not necessary for the Imperial families, especially if the worker is taken into the House. Payment is provided in housing, clothing, food and the like.”

Jakob’s silent disapproval of this truth was evident in the tense lines of his lean frame, and the resentment flaming behind the liquid silver of his eyes.

Marina gave the Captain an exasperated look.

He shuffled back rolling his eyes.

“Prokopiy, during Aver are you staying in the Fire Kingdom?” she asked.

“Yes, majesty. I am not yet blessed with the honour of a wife. My parents were too old to travel such a distance this year, and I am solely responsible for our trade. I will remain for the entirety of the tournament.”

“Outstanding. I’d like to appoint you as my record keeper.”

He blinked. “Thank you?”

“You won’t be thanking me for long.” She laughed. “I’d like you to visit me for breakfast every other day at sunrise.” Ignoring the merchant’s stunned look, she looked at Vadik. “Can you tell him where to find me please? Oh, you do accept, don’t you Prokopiy?”

“It is an honour to serve you.”

“It’s a job, Prokopiy. You will be paid a wage to make up for whatever earnings you lose while not selling your lovely artwork, which you should totally hawk inside the Citadel and to the Regent. He has a soft spot for scrollwork.” She stuck out her lip, blowing a raspberry. “I almost feel guilty for stealing you from the market, but I need your skills more.”

“But why?” Prokopiy asked, befuddled. “Majesty, surely there are others more qualified for your needs in the Citadel.”

“Maybe, but I met you first, and I like you.” She squinted. “To say I’m sick of gossip about me would be an understatement. While I can’t be there to personally counter crappy thing said about me, I can be there in spirit.”

“How?” Jakob asked the question the men were thinking.

“By circulating a daily news parchment.” When they all gave her blank looks she elaborated. “Think of it as a handheld political stone, but made of paper, and containing information about the Houses I’m connected with.” She counted them off her fingers. “Kol, Raad, Zar and Ryu.” She shot a dastardly look at Jakob. “And soon more. Not only can I fight back on these horrible rumours making out I’m some kind of loose-skirted gold-digger, I can provide the municipals information about me, what I’m about, and what changes I hope to make for the better.” She beamed when many of her guard nodded their heads receptively. “Like the orphanage.”

“What orphanage?” Vadik asked, bewildered.

She slapped his arm good-naturedly. “The one I’m going to build and dedicate to my mother, silly.” She spun to Prokopiy. “See you tomorrow. The super fine Captain here will give you details on how to find me. Thanks again for the gift. Follow me, Jak. I’m not done with you yet.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

Head snapping up, Koen Raad gritted his teeth and forced a smile. It ended as a thunderous glower. He spent most of the afternoon watching for Marina in-between seeing to his duties as King, growing surlier when he could not catch a glimpse of her anywhere.

It neared dusk before he caught wind of her things being moved into the bowels of the fortress.

Now, his Treasure bounced into the murky apartment he’d tracked her to as if nothing was amiss. As if he hadn’t craved her presence for hours, the need to know she was safe driving him to distraction.

Spotting him she smiled ecstatically, changing direction mid stride to hurtle his way. Her expression became more radiant and jubilant each step she took.

Daniil inhaled harshly. “To have my chosen female look at me that way.” His voice was low and pained. “I envy you, brother.”

Koen had no chance to respond. His arms were full of the warm, vivid female who’d branded his beastly soul. His heart swelled and overflowed. “Treasure.” He nosed her hair and the glossy strands caressed him like the finest silk. He breathed in deeply – salted water, wood, smoke, and fresh leather. A faint hint of armour oil clung to her, as did the pungent spice of the firefruit she’d had that morning. Underlying it all a heady musk all hers. She’d been to the souk. “You are well?”

“Very.” She glanced over her shoulder at the male who hovered in the doorway, feeling most unwelcome. “Come in, Jak. Take a load off.”

“You did not leave the fortress alone,” Daniil interjected sharply. “Did you?”

He did so before Koen questioned why she was in the company of such a disgraced male.

Daniil’s tension eased when a troop of harassed looking soldiers filed into the room holding all manner of purchases. “Ah.”

Jakob crossed the expanse and sat a shaku down the table bench.

He was careful to give the renowned Dragon Lords a considerable space, hoping they interpreted this as a respectful distance.

The High Princess may not know of his House’s notoriety, but they did. He could sense they would never welcome him. Nor would they suffer him long in their venerated company, especially not around their beloved Princess.

Choosing to act oblivious to the tension between the three males, though the otherness prodded her to make her aware of it, Marina placed her palms on the well-muscled chest before her and sighed.

The gush of air was long, breathy and utterly content.

It made Koen feel good that she found peace in his arms. Her skin touching his was paradise. Goddess knew he’d loathed each second he’d been forced to pass without her next to him. His Dragon was possessive of her to an obsessive degree, and the temperamental male he was became increasingly difficult manage when he knew she was wandering about without him. It was easier to calm when he knew she was with Mikhail or Daniil. They were almost as fierce as he, and would protect her slavishly as they had nearly the same amount of love for her he did. A regimented guard was the bare minimum he could accept as her protection in his stead, even if they were sworn to ice breathers.

“Yeah, that’s right.” Safe in the cradle of his arms, Marina faced off with his Second. Her expression was smug and her tone good-humouredly insolent. “I took a guard. I was sensible.” She stuck out her pink tongue.

With a low hiss, Koen dipped his head to lick it. Her taste consumed him. He ran a warm palm down the stretch of her back in a sensual stroke.

Flushing a rosy hue, Marina looked back to Daniil, eyes glassy, to finish her argument. “I do have common sense, you know?”

“Of course,” he replied flippantly.

A patronizing smile stretched his cheeks.

Her reply sneer disappeared in lieu of a memory that made her eyes glint hunger. “Sit. Order something to eat. The fish here is delicious.”

Chuckling at the mercurial mood that more often than not matched that of her mate, Daniil sat.

As his bottom hit the bench....

“We are not staying.” Koen growled menacingly. His eyes touched briefly on Jakob. They left the male to sweep disdainfully around the shadowy room. “There is no need to get comfortable.”

Eyebrows jerking to comical heights, Daniil stood. He’d sensed the Dragon King was not happy with what he’d seen when he’d entered.

Apparently Koen was not going to hold his tongue to please his Treasure, even if it appeared she had a liking for her new living space.

“And why not?” Marina demanded. “Sit down, Daniil.”

To his utter shock, his Dragon did not chafe at the imperious commandment, and he did.

“Get up,” Koen snapped. “We leave as soon as her things are gathered.”

Muddled, he rose in stilted increments, eyeing them both warily.

Stifling laughter, Jakob coughed into his fist earning him a clash of fiery and frosty glares.

“So soon?” Marina pouted. “We spent a lot of time together yesterday, and I know that’s frowned upon, but I missed you.” She blushed. “Each moment we were apart today my heart ached.”

Koen cupped her soft cheek.

He smiled benignly when she closed her eyes and turned her face into his palm to kiss it. “You need not miss me. You are coming with me.”

“I am?” Being steered towards the door, Marina’s expression took on a happy glaze. “Where are we going?”

“To my apartments.”

“Really? I haven’t been there yet.” She slowed and cast him a concerned look. “Won’t that make the Regent angry?”

“Myron will manage. You are mine. Aver is merely a formality we must suffer through.” His voice was hypnotic, an incomparable seduction of sound. Again stroked the length of her back, imagining doing so when she was naked, and on her knees at his mercy. “I would have you under me–” He shuddered then corrected himself. “I would have you by my side always.”

“That’s nice.” She shivered at his low, husky tone.

Slowed further noticing Daniil trailed them.

The Dragon Lord gave a grim-faced Captain Vadik a superior look.

Young Viktor looked crestfallen at her egress, standing lost and intimidated in a corner.

The tense atmosphere registered.

Marina frowned.

The otherness was purring, twisting in ecstasy at Koen’s touch.

A niggling suspicion was all it took for her mind to rebel. The lustful daze ended. “Koen, you understand I’m living here with House Ryu now, don’t you?”

Broad palm pressed to the small of her back, he quickened his stride and hustled her on. “You stay with me.”

Marina stopped dead in her tracks. “Don’t even start with me.”

Koen Raad sighed and stared longingly at the open door. He looked down at his Treasure, already sensing defeat. “You cannot be serious.”

“What?” Twirling on the spot, she scowled. “I like it here. I thought you would to.”

Koen crossed his arms and loomed.

The intimidation tactic never worked with her, but he was desperate enough to try.

He glared down his blade-straight nose. “I have decided it is not safe.” The Dragon was very present in that pronouncement.

She proceeded with care. “Consider my position. This is the last place an assassin would think to look.”

“It will not be long before your change of housing is noted and your location discovered,” Daniil said. “I am uneasy about the layout of this floor.”

“There’s only one entrance,” she argued, not appreciating him taking Koen’s side. How was that fair? It was one of the things that irritated her about him being Koen’s Second. His loyalty was never really hers. “One main door to guard.”

“Which means there is only one exit.” Daniil scrutinized the space. “Should you come under attack there is no where to run.”

“As if anyone would dare a full scale assault inside the Citadel. They’d never make it out alive.”

The idea of his Treasure trapped down here as an army overran the Citadel brought Koen out in a cold sweat.

“Certain fanatical assassins do not expect to survive long past extinguishing their mark,” Daniil said.

Koen nodded grimly.

“Uncle Sevastyan dedicated a private guard of six highly trained and capable Dragon Men to my protection. I have supreme faith in their skills.”

Marina motioned to the Captain, and his Lieutenant, Dmitri, with a big smile.

Their eyes gleamed amusement at the praise.

“Vadik and his men escorted me through the market place and there was not a single incident,” she finished.

“Oh? Tell me, why is Jakob of House Lin here?” Daniil knew there was a story there that might cinch a victory. “I know you have not officially met him elsewhere.”

Seeing there was no winning this debate, and not prepared to get into it any further, Marina shrugged. “Say what you like. I’m not leaving.”

Koen’s eyes flashed, nostrils flared. “Treasure–”

“No, Koen.” Chin lifting, her stance mirrored his. “I accept needing a guard. I accept being cautious about whom I allow near me, however I have limits, and you’re breaching them. I am perfectly safe here with my family. I’m sure Uncle Sevastyan will allow you to speak to whomever you wish if it gives you peace of mind about who will be looking out for me when you’re not here. I know I’m happy for you to speak to my guards.”

Vadik nodded in tacit obedience.

Marina glanced at Jakob. “As for Jak, I met him officially in the marketplace, but I know I’ve heard his voice before. I just can’t remember.”

“I do,” Daniil said, grim. “Which is why I am against his presence here.” Daniil shot Koen a considering look before turning to her in exasperation. “He is one of the spies Katya had keeping tabs on you when you were originally declared First Chosen.”

Marina blinked. A memory clicked into place. “The training field.”

She remembered that day clearly. She’d been grumpy, sleep deprived and emotionally wrecked over Koen. Daniil had been in dragonskin, teaching her how to disguise her scent from his sensitive nose. After winning a bout, Daniil abruptly tackled her to the ground. Hiding them in the tall grasses, he ignored her struggles and covered her mouth to keep her quiet. They overheard a conversation between two brothers looking for her. It was when she realised that Nikolai was secretly protecting her, and when she precisely understood how much impact she had on the Dragon Lands. Up until that point she’d focused solely on entering Aver so that she could call Koen Raad her own. After hearing the two ice breathers talking, it had slammed home how treacherous the Houses were, how much danger she was in.

The conversation rang in her ears.

“By the Goddess, where they hell are they? We have checked nearly every damn field in Tzion.”

“The Lady is not going to be happy if we go back empty handed. We need information.”

“I doubt we would have succeeded anyway. Lord Daniil is well known for his warskill, his cunning, and it is said the King made him swear to protect the Princess with his life.”

“He is not allowed to do that,” the other voice protested.

“There are rumours. House Tyr believes that the Princess is no longer pure and should not be allowed to hunt the King at all once Aver is complete, but Artur cannot hold the ear of Regent Myron.”

“Regardless, should we be interfering? All these nasty affairs of state turn my stomach to rot. I hold the Princess no ill will. She’s nice. We should just let this play out, and keep our House out of it. Goddess willing, the Princess will perish during the quests if she is not strong enough to be Queen.”

“We have seen her train. If she is given the chance, she will not fail. Her warskill is basic and straightforward, but effective, and she wants it, badly, you can see it in her eyes. And she has Lord Daniil to train her. Hold fast, Jakob. This alliance will help us gain some of the credibility and coin our Sire lost. We will need it for new weapons if we are to survive the campaign the Vor’s plan to launch once Anastasia is named Queen of the Drackai.”

“Anastasia has always campaigned for peace. It is our Kingdom that always seems to be initiating war for some reason or another.” He sighed, “Our Queens are always of lesser might and honour than the Drackai Queens.”

“Aleksandr is the master of House Vor, and do not forget it. As fierce as Anastasia is she is been losing some of her edge. The servants think she yearns for someone.”

“What if the Princess wins the Frost Wreath? I cannot help but think maybe that would be a good thing. Our Court could use–”

“If we do our job right she will not win either throne.”

The other voice was quiet for a while. “I am not sure. King Raad seems attached to her. My Dragon is pleased for him.”

“Ah, well, he was, but now the Lady is sure she’s gaining his favour. All she needs now is enough scandal so the Princess is forced to withdraw. My source tells me Lord Daniil has foiled a number of the assassination attempts on the Princess’s life. He took the case to the Dragon Council, and Nikolai Raad was set as her guardian.

“The brat?”

“Childish he may seem, but Lord Nikolai is a fierce Dragon. He is the one who has been hunting down those who oppose the Princess and silencing them.”

“But right now we oppose her.” The other Dragon sounded stressed. “We need to get out of this ... quickly ... somehow. I have heard the Princess is fair to her servants. Maybe if we–”

“Pah. We are low gentry. It is the upper Houses Nikolai is after and the Princess could not protect us from him if he ever found out we were involved in this. I think it is all poised to go belly up anyway. The Dragon Council is interfering again. Regent Myron is a stickler for the rules, and he has to keep bending them for her. It will not last much longer, so pull yourself together. You know what the lady does to traitors.”

“They only time I feel a traitor is when I am in her presence. My Dragon does not like this.”

“What do you have to worry about? Nobody knows we are involved, and you can bet most of the Lady’s alliances are caught in the same trap we are in. We just need to keep quiet and do what we are told. The Phoenixes protect their own, and they will not bother us as long as the King is not directly threatened.”

“Yes, but that is only because they are supposed to be his advisors. For the sake of peace, they need the King to mate the Chosen best suited. I have to admit, brother, if it were you, I would want the best match possible. Would you not want that for me?”

“Again preferential treatment towards one contender. That is forbidden, and cannot be how the great goddess meant things to be. I am a simple Dragon who is happy to follow my betters into war. Houses Kol, Raad and Zar aligned. Can you imagine it? Three imperial Houses tightly bound by love and honour. It would be glorious if the entire Court was not afraid they would abuse the power, just like they are abusing it to get the Princess seated on the throne.”

“Now, I do not know about that. She has to complete the quests on her own to win a crown.”

“The Regent and the Dragon Council are turning a blind eye to a lot of her transgressions because it might be a mating of love and not honour.”

“But–”

“Enough. Come on now, Jakob, we must go.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Chewing her bottom lip, Marina stared at Jakob. She saw a whole lot of complications, as well as an enormous amount of opportunity.

Trust went both ways. He showed an incredible amount by placing himself at her mercy in front of his King, a male who could easily see him destroyed.

Bravery appealed greatly to her, and Jakob displayed so much.

He peered back impassively. “You remember.”

“We heard everything,” she said.

“I know.”

Her head cocked questioningly.

Resigned, he shrugged. “I saw you before we landed.”

Marina double blinked. “Yet you said nothing to your brother?”

Expression blank, he was quiet.

“Okay then.” She raked a hand through her hair, wondering if she’d be able to stop Koen clawing this male’s face off. “If I remember correctly you were rather vocal in advocating me. I don’t think you’re here now because of Katya.”

“So?” Daniil barked. “What of it? Harmless intentions at this instant does not change what he is about, Marina. Not only so we know this male worked as a spy, we know he comes from a dishonoured House.”

Eyes dulling, Jakob’s head lowered.

Koen’s head slowly followed the conversation back and forth. Hearing the word ‘spy’ his aura darkened, and his eyes shone like gems lit from inside. “What are you talking about?”

Marina slid him a look asking for patience. “Maybe not. I remember an honourable Lord serving his House as best he could.”

“He was trying to spy on you,” Daniil said, outraged.

Koen’s eyes deadened, his tone flat. “What?”

Not pausing to elaborate, knowing his own lack of action against the male risked backfiring, Daniil advanced on Marina angrily, disbelieving she was trying to excuse the male. “He should not be here.”

“Oh, give it a rest.” Turning her back on Daniil, a gesture of disrespect to a predator, Marina tried to move past Koen.

They could be incredible assholes to people not in their inner circle.

Deadly silent, Koen held out an arm. “Explain.”

“What more is there to say?” She placed a hand on his arm and pushed. It didn’t budge. “Jakob was forced to spy for Katya, but he and his brother were terrible at it. Daniil sensed them coming and hid us.” She flicked a look at the male in question. “I’ll bet she didn’t take the failure lightly.”

“House Ja was the only upper House connection we had left.” Jakob shook his head ruefully. “We lost it after that day. Katya ordered her guards beat us so hard my bother’s hide is scarred for life. My foreleg still pains me.”

Daniil sneered at him. “Nothing you did not deserve.”

“Ease up, Daniil.” Marina’s voice was sharp. His behaviour was beginning to grate on her nerves. “You can be rather unfriendly at times.”

“This is one of the lesser Lords you spoke of a few days ago,” Koen surmised grimly, stabbing Daniil with a reproachful look. “Nikolai will not be pleased.”

“As I said then your ascension to Emperor is supposed to quell war, not create it.” Daniil chose his words carefully knowing he waded treacherous waters. The King was being abnormally reasonable on this matter that concerned his bride-to-be, and he wanted to keep it that way. “He may come from a disgraced House, but he is still noble. I stand by my initial decision.”

He may have no personal interest in Jakob of Lin, but he was firm in his convictions.

Killing the Lord would cause more problems than it solved.

It was simple politics.

Koen twitched restlessly. Anger boiled beneath the calm surface. “The status of a noble is supposed to stand for more than just wealth.”

“The Wyvrae Court would not stand for one of their own killed as a result of treachery from a Drackai.” Daniil made his voice firm. “Technically, he did not betray you.”

“His intention matters. Damn this double standard.” Koen seethed frustration and paced a short line. “The Houses of Court plot, scheme, and lie, but when they are discovered they cry heavy handedness as I take vengeance. You feed their misguided sense of invincibility by curbing my wrath when matters like this come about.”

Sensing his growing fury and worried it would explode on the male she’d collared for a reason, Marina finally dodged Koen’s massiveness and evaded his ninja-quick attempt to grab her.

She caught his hand and pulled him after her, craftily smiling over her shoulder at the slick move and his expression.

Stupefied looked hot on him.

Her eyes twinkled. “Control your temper, sexy. Let’s kiss and make up.”

Koen guessed her intention a split second before she acted. “Do not!”

Marina dipped and kissed Jakob on the cheek. “I forgive you, for what it’s worth.” She gave him a narrow-eyed look. “Will you spy on me again?”

Stiff-backed, Jakob shook his head. “I am a simple warrior, nothing more.”

“You say simple warrior. I say my Second.”

Astonished from the laconic demeanour he’d managed to don after the impromptu kiss, Jakob’s jaw dropped before he snapped it shut.

He eyeballed her as if she were mad.

At the announcement, Daniil sat heavily gesturing for wine. He couldn’t say her decision was unexpected. He’d suspected she was on a path of this nature when she’d defended the male.

Koen leaned over Marina until her back bent. His one worded response was glacial. “No.”

“Just think for a second.” She sat, drawing him between her legs, a move distracting to Koen in itself. “I have untold enemies. It’s about time I started making allies. I need to start surrounding myself with people other than you and your Second I trust.” She squeezed the outside of his legs and smiled naughtily, knowing he struggled not to react on a sexual level when trying to argue on an intellectual one.

The blatant invitation in her posture had slashes of colour darkening his hollowed cheeks.

Truthfully the contact pushed the rules of Aver to the max, but she was confident no one present would say anything.

“I must build a House of my own within the one I want with you.”

“They must be worthy. Honourable.”

She placed a hand on Jakob’s shoulder, physically demonstrating her acceptance of him. “This male protected a hungry orphan from the injustice about to be dealt out by a guard of this Citadel. She was branded a thief because she had food from my breakfast table, food I’ve personally been donating for the needy, and without even realising these people need it. Who knows what would have happened to her if Jak hadn’t intervened?”

“Her hand would be taken,” Jakob muttered. “Crippling her. It was why I would not stand aside. I have felt the sting of injustice for longer than I can remember.” He met Marina’s gaze, proud, his deep voice lowering. “I wish it on no other.”

Regardless of the righteous undertone of the story, contempt dripped from Daniil as he accepted a pitcher and goblet from a servant. “An act to impress you.” He poured himself a large measure then offered Koen a serving. It was declined. “A clever way to worm into your good graces.” Daniil leaned threateningly over the table. “She does not see you for the backstabbing bastard you are. I am not so easily fooled.”

Shaking his head slowly, Jakob said nothing.

“Give me some credit, Daniil. I am not a complete idiot. It wasn’t an act for my benefit.” Marina slanted the silent Dragon Lord a look of irritation. Did he think they would hurt him if he spoke up in his own defence? “He didn’t see me until I intervened. It was a genuine kindness, Dani. In my eyes there is no one worthier for helping me better communicate with the people. As my Second he can advise me of potential issues before they blow up in my face.”

Daniil was appalled and offended. “And what am I here for? Advising you is what I do.”

“You’re Koen’s not mine.” She have him a level stare he returned with frank annoyance. “Don’t pretend your first instinct when you have information is to tell me, because then I’ll have to call you a liar to your pretty face. In a clash of wills your Dragon defers to Koen, not me.”

She slapped his shoulder good-naturedly.

She had no issue with his tactics, only with the strength of his loyalty. She knew Daniil cared for her, but strip away everything and he was Koen’s man, his battle brother.

He would be until he died.

This didn’t upset her.

If anything it warmed her heart knowing her Dragon Mate was fiercely loved and protected.

“I want a knowledgeable male by my side that can’t devastate me with a touch of his lips.”

She glanced pointedly at Koen.

He fought a gloating leer of satisfaction as the lusty implications of her statement settled.

“Or confound me with reverse psychology so sneakily, I do what he wishes without realising it.” She rushed on when Daniil opened his mouth to deny it. “And don’t say you’re not that devious, fiend, because you are.”

Conceding to the backhanded praise, he nonchalantly rocked a shoulder and grinned over the rim of his goblet.

Losing the fight to keep his apprehension hidden, Koen straightened. At the lull he swallowed repeatedly before casually inquiring, “This orphaned youngling you speak of. I do not have a daughter now, do I?”

Daniil snorted into his drink. He drained the liquid in one swig then coughed, choking on laughter. Still chuckling in dark delight he poured himself more.

“No.” The reminder of the absence of her son steeped Marina in sadness. She rested an elbow on the table and cupped her chin, battling doubts about her ability as a responsible parent. She stared at the opposite wall, eyes misting. When she spoke her breathing hitched. “I can’t even care properly for the one I have.”

Unable to stand her misery, Koen straddled the bench and drew her into his embrace.

He glared over her head at Jakob who didn’t avert his eyes, but met his stare until the he felt a stirring of respect.

The younger Dragon Lord possessed some backbone.

It rankled when the male remained silent as Daniil shredded his pride, belittled what sounded like a gallant deed worthy of recognition, one that gave his treasure hope in her new home after seeing its unsavoury side.

As Dragon King, he gave a measure of loyalty to all Lords of the land, and despite developing a personal dislike for a few, he felt an affinity for certain males, his beast instinctively accepted them, and offered kinship.

Only Daniil, Myron and Nikolai had gained this honour.

Jakob was one he should like to trust, but his intellect warned the ice breather might hide an ulterior motive.

Koen dropped his gaze to his Treasure. His lips brushed over her temple, nibbled the upper curve of her ear. “Convince me then that this is a good idea.”

“I don’t have to,” she grumped, snuggling deeper into his arms. “It’s my choice. You have your Second. Accept mine.”

Entering the room from a connecting chamber, Lord Ryu cleared his throat to announce his presence.

He bowed reverently to his royal guests.

“Your guard served you well, Marina?” His kind eyes held a hint or wariness. “Everything satisfactory here?”

“Uncle.” Marina rubbed her sleeve over her eyes. Her face heated in embarrassment to be caught crying. “You know Koen and Daniil.” She kicked a foot towards the latter and kissed the chin of the former.

“My King.” Sevastyan bowed, fist to his heart. “Lord Kol.”

“Lord Ryu.” Koen’s voice was a rumble of approval. “Thank you for guarding my Treasure in my absence.” Koen clasped the back of her neck. “She can be headstrong.”

“Headstrong?” Sevastyan exclaimed. A teasing sparkle lightened his eyes. “Never.”

Tickled, Koen used his grip to angle her head back. He stroked her flushing cheek, noting how her breathing turned shallow and erratic.

A hint of arousal teased his senses.

Marina tossed her head and he released her.

She buried her face in his chest and muttered crossly, shifting her thighs rhythmically, pressing them together.

His tone was dry when he responded to the older male’s light-hearted taunting. “Never headstrong you say? Believe it.”

“Truth, she made it easy for me to meet my obligations. She is a sensible female, one I am proud to stand behind. I support her endeavours even should the blood connection diminish into nothing but memory.”

Koen was beyond pleased at the male’s sincere deference. He was used to simpering, favour-seeking weaklings who were less warrior and more entertainer. The performances Koen Raad had been privy to during his reign as King were nauseating. So few men of the Courts possessed the strength and sense of well being than male before him exuded in waves.

It became glaringly apparent why Marina was comfortable amongst these ice breathers.

Even the po-faced faced Captain Vadik managed to give off an air of gentle protection towards his mate.

Perhaps his snap judgment was unfair.

Upon seeing the worn furnishings and lack of luxury Koen had bristled, seeing Marina’s changed living space as a demotion. He should have known better. He himself chafed after spending to long in the richly decorated halls of the Red Citadel. It amused him his Treasure seemed to share his love of practicality. She truly cared nothing for gold and jewels, for fine silks and decadent dining.

He watched as she happily introduced her cousin, a stuttering youngling he vaguely remembered as stealing her attention from him at the feast a few nights previous.

She was in high spirits, surrounded by family, and excited to be a part of their lives. He knew the only thing that would please her more was to have their offspring with them.

Before long they were sat at the solid wood table having a sumptuous meal.

Marina moaned and groaned over the plates of excellent fish she was presented with so fervently, Koen worried his leathers wouldn’t survive the unrelenting pressure of his straining cock. When she licked her lips his mouth dried. When she sucked on her fingers he strangled growls in his throat. But when she tossed her head back, closed her eyes and sighed sweetly he cupped the back of her head, yanked her close and crushed her mouth under his.

Spicy flavours exploded across his taste buds. His tongue delved into her mouth, sought and found the zesty flavour he knew to be hers alone.

She was intoxicating.

His heartbeat thundered in his ears and his chest constricted. Great rushes of air sucked through his nose as his muscles locked tight to try and imprison the soul-shattering sensation she alone ignited.

He was afire.

Massaging the back of her neck as he sipped from her honeyed lips, licking his own when she broke away panting, wild eyed and griping his waist, he knew hunger, desire and gut-clenching need.

Silence descended over the table.

Viktor guffawed and nudged his Sire with an elbow.

Uncaring of what they thought, Koen braced himself to take her again, to drag her over the table to truly feast, when the warriors ringing the table erupted in a clamour of approval, hooting their pleasure.

Shaking his head to dislodge the mind-numbing lust, he pulled back.

Vadik rolled his eyes before hunching and shoving his chopsticks back into his rice bowl.

Bits of bread were tossed their way when they separated. The heckling grew rowdier when Marina flushed to the roots of her hair, and buried her grin in the flat of her palm.

Smug, sensual mouth quirked lazily at the friendly taunting, Koen winked at Viktor, much to the delighted youngling’s worshipful admiration.

Used to seeing Marina and Koen’s titillating sexual chemistry, Daniil was the first to dampen the frivolity. “As wonderful as this all is, Rina, we have been lax in your training.”

“Yes, well, we were attacked last night. I think that qualifies as extenuating circumstances.” Marina’s cheeks were filled with food. Foot hooked around Koen’s calf, she sipped straight from a tall pitcher of water. “We deserved a day off. After a full night of uninterrupted sleep I’ll be all yours to torture and tame.”

The noise level of the room nose-dived.

A defensive fury swelled from the ranks, much to Koen’s liking. Yes, let them feel protective. The more bodies he could put between his Treasure and danger the better.

“Attacked?” Sevastyan demanded an explanation the warriors wished they had the status to ask. “Who would dare?”

“Mages,” Marina replied. Her eyes crossed jokingly when Daniil shot her a murderous look. “Oh, lighten up, Dani. They would have found out eventually. A delegation of Battle Mages visiting the Kingdom would have been a dead giveaway something major had happened. This way the tittle-tattle might have more than a grain of truth to it. Besides, they need to know what’s going on since I’m living here now.” She reminded him of her new living arrangements with a hint of evil glee.

Vadik was fully engaged.

Attentive, he leaned over the table, rice forgotten, chopsticks held aloft like twin daggers. “Barren Ones attacked our High Princess?”

“And the King,” Koen added.

He shrugged fatalistically when Daniil made a noise of protest, giving him a look to suggest he was as hopeless as his mate.

“You decided to call the Eldernmoot to account,” Vadik surmised. “Not that any good will come of it. The Barren Ones are perfidious snakes.”

“I do not like that name,” Marina snapped. “We call them Mages.”

“It matters?” Viktor asked curiously.

“Our offspring is of them,” Koen said evenly placing his hand on hers. For the first time he too experienced a sting of affront hearing Boy’s kind spoken of in such derogatory terms. After meeting with Elder Khan it was clear the people of the Wasteland were not barren, merely different. Enemy or not they deserved respect. “It matters.”

Vadik grunted yet made no apology.

Why should he when he spoke the truth of experience? He would respect the royal offspring regardless of his origin.

“Wine,” Sevastyan hollered. His expression turned troubled when he looked between Daniil and Marina. “There is more to this that I would know. Now is not the time.”

“Agreed.” Daniil relaxed, yet his manner towards his liege remained sullen and disapproving.

Koen ignored him.

He gave his attention to Marina when she presented him with a gift she bought at the souk, and animatedly told him of her afternoon exploits.

It would take more than his Second’s brooding to tear his eyes from her radiance.

Daniil quietly drank and took in his surroundings. He did not like that so many knew of the attack so soon. It was already a political disaster, and discretion was best until they had more information. Yes, the truth was a powerful weapon, but only when used sparingly. House Ryu had yet to probe itself loyal, blood relation or not.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Once again the stylish aristocracy of the Dragon Lands gathered. They clustered closer to where the start of the quest would commence. The tournament of Aver had never been so gripping, the clandestine plays for power so spine-tingling. This would be an event to remember. They felt it in the air. Even those who looked upon the returned High Princess with doubt began to believe. Began to see they were privileged to witness a mighty dynasty in the making.

Wild ones soared through the wispy clouds, clung to the rocky mountainside. They looked curiously upon the half-breeds with whom they shared the earth.

Nestled at the shallow basin of a great canyon, the black lagoon was a perilous terrain the two-legged normally avoided.

They knew the alpha female of their distant kin’s world was chosen when they descended upon this anarchistic landscape, and so the wild ones watched with complacent munificence, wondering if their water dwelling brothers would catch the hapless prey willingly entering the dangerous province.

Sensing an almighty Phoenix in their midst they quieted, drew back, and respectfully lowered to their bellies.

A magnificent male blotted the rising sun.

He landed on a jutting outcrop of rock, ebony wings flapping wildly as ridged talons gouged the hard surface.

Baring his fangs and shaking his great body to scatter droplets of morning dew, he snorted thick grey smoke speckled with fiery embers.

His mysterious slanted eyes flickered restlessly as he took in his bleak surroundings.

The wild ones allowed the ancient male leave to recline with them as he attentively followed the movements of his offspring who readied below.

Mikhail knew his offspring would not appreciate an ostentatious show of support from him, their relationship as tattered as it was. In deference to her wishes he would watch from afar, worrying as only as a parent could for her safety.

He prayed the great Dragon Goddess who gifted mere men the ability to transform would keep her from harm.

Directly in contrast to Mikhail’s resigned acceptance of the Princess’ wishes, the incensed Dragon King verged an apocalyptic breach of calm.

Bathed in sweat, he was a wrong word away from exploding into a beastly rage.

Earlier that morning he’d flown over the lagoon his beloved would traverse and peered into the murky waters.

The malevolent eyes of a Dragon male glared back at him. The monster was over fifty feet long and alpha male of the depths.

Koen Raad saw death in the creature’s eyes.

Panicked, he’d raced to the Citadel intending to grab his Treasure in his claws, hide her in a cave, and stop her from ever nearing what may become her watery grave.

He was not successful.

She was gone by the time he arrived and his brother talked him down from following and doing as he planned.

He’d always wanted to avoid Aver, knowing it was hateful his female must put herself in danger simply to be with him, but watching Marina battle the ice wolves had terrified him on such a deep, visceral level he experienced waking nightmares because of it.

He’d avoided thinking of the lagoon quest too often, knowing it would be difficult to allow her to once again risk her life. He hadn’t realised it would be impossible. The trip to the lagoon had meant to be a way to mentally prepare for the second quest since the impact of the first left him shaken and heartsick. The effect had been exactly opposite.

Marina was dressed in a loose tunic, her legs and feet bare.

She looked achingly vulnerable against the giantesses either side of her.

Fia bobbed in the water in-between two hulking male water dragons that provocatively rubbed her sides.

These were gentle males under the control of their mistresses, and still they were attracted to the female in their midst. What would happen to Fia as she travelled through the domain of feral male water wild ones – and the horror of all horrors – with his precious Treasure holding onto her back?

Koen had witnessed the thrashing lagoons during a water Dragon mating many times. The waters churned and splashed violently as the creatures wrestled for dominance.

The thought of his beloved trapped between two thrusting males trying to mount Fia had him powering forward with the sole intention of dragging her the hell away from this madness.

They would crush her small bones. She’d die in agony as her body shut down from her injuries, drowning alone in the dark.

Daniil and Nikolai’s grip on either of his arms had ceased being comforting and turned restraining.

This made his Dragon less willing to cooperate.

He growled and snapped menacingly, his eyes burning, angry smoke billowing from his nose and mouth. Frost seeped from his pores and slicked the ground they stood upon with ice.

As he looked upon her she seemed so alone. Her Dragon mount was less than half the size of the other Chosen’s steeds, and Fia’s light purple scales stood out starkly. She was a glowing target. It would be worse when her pheromones seeped into the lagoon waters, unconsciously drawing the predators towards her rider.

Koen’s heart felt as if it would beat right out of his chest yet his blood slowed to cold sludge.

He envisioned Marina tossed from her Dragon and choking for air, silently screaming for help as her body was battered, and he was forced to stand helpless on the shore because of a stupid contest.

The quivering in his bones intensified until he swore his whole body quaked.

“Breathe, Koen,” Nikolai murmured. “You make it harder for her to concentrate this way.”

“Indeed,” Daniil said solemnly. “Think of how this will distract her. Seeing you, her male, lose faith in her abilities to survive this. It will crush her. The last thing we need for her to do is panic when she is in the water.”

“Please?” The husky voice broaching manhood snapped him out of his tight-lipped fugue. “What he says is true, and I need her.”

Blinking, Koen lowered his head to see Boy crouched a shaku from him.

The youngling did not look traumatised as Marina fretted when she couldn’t locate him. Yes, his face was thinner, strained, but his eyes were filled with steadfast conviction.

A fear Koen had not known he carried uncoiled.

Seeing their offspring reminded him Marina had so much to live for, so much to fight for.

She could not conceivably fail.

Devastated this situation spiralled beyond his control Koen Raad drew on his reserve of strength and composed himself.

Just in time, as Marina turned.

Her expression was anxious as she searched the sea of unknown faces until she spotted him.

Seeing the two males flanking him, their stances edgy, her brows pulled together even as she smiled, expressive eyes apprehensive and questioning.

Koen felt like a bastard.

She needed his support, to see it, and feel it when she couldn’t hear it.

Swallowing hard, he nodded firmly and placed a hand over his heart. Then he touched Boy’s shoulder and drew him closer both for comfort and to lend the detached youngling support.

Marina beamed and visibly squared her shoulders. Turning back to the murky waters she knelt and slipped into the water to straddle Fia.

Daniil clapped his shoulder, his rigid hold easing.

“Swear to me if this goes wrong you will help me get to her. You will keep them off me until I get her safe.” Koen grabbed the male’s tunic. His voice was a hoarse whisper. “Promise me.”

“We vow it,” Nikolai said. He roughly hugged Koen across the shoulders. Butted their foreheads. “Be easy. Nothing will go wrong.”

“You underestimate her.” Daniil jerked his chin. “Come. Watch your female triumph.”

“You have a death wish.” Lady Anastasia of House Vor stared at the smooth-backed water Dragon with undisguised horror. “She is House bred. You know what will happen if those wild ones get a hold of her?”

Cringing, Marina ran her hand soothingly over Fia’s textured rump.

She knew exactly what would happen.

The males would fight to mount Fia, strongest to weakest. Though an animal, Fia was sentient, and Marina loved her. The thought of the playful dragoness forced under so many males sickened her.

Being an animal the female Dragon wouldn’t see it as rape, but as dominant males taking their right. Still, Marina knew wild ones preferred to mate for life, and were emotionally impacted when they were dominated outside of a lifelong mating.

Should anything happen to the aquatic dragoness Marina would be directly responsible.

“I know.” Treading water, Marina kissed Fia’s delicate wet snout. “She’s fast and clever. We’ll survive this.”

Anastasia mounted her fierce-looking male.

With a crest of sharp fins climbing his spine, his scales were a deep red appearing black. The shade eerily reminded the admirer of dried blood. It blended with the water perfectly.

The crimson of Vor House colours made Dragon and rider look an angry pair in an angrier environment.

“You are either brave or addled, Princess.” Anastasia paused. “I believe you are part of my future. I am not sure if this thrills or terrifies me.”

The statuesque Chosen dug her naked heels into the tough hide of her male steed, holding onto a smooth curve of his crest with one hand. The other clutched a short-hafted spear.

Her Dragon grunted, blew water as it breathed, and waded towards the entrance to the black lagoon.

Marina watched her go with no small amount of awe.

The woman was fearless.

Giving into one last urge to look at Koen, she sought his distinctive form in the crowd.

Her heart gave a little skip.

He stood in the shadows between Daniil and Nikolai.

It was the gangly form crouched at his feet peering at her worriedly that drew her attention first.

Seeing Boy safe and hale warmed her. The dark fear she’d carried since they last spoke eased, replaced with impatience.

After the quest was done, she and Boy would shut themselves away to simply be for a while. She’d hunt him down and drag him by the ear if she had to.

Forcing that ugly, fake smile, she gave him a thumb up.

She grinned when he returned the gesture.

Her gaze switched to Koen Raad, and her smile faltered.

It seemed Nikolai and Daniil kept her Dragon Mate calm, but she could tell from the set of his shoulders and jaw he was breaking.

Koen managed a stressed jerk of the head, acknowledging her worried stare then placed a hand on Boy’s shoulder, a silent signal their offspring was protected.

Relaxing, she poured her love into a smile. She was grateful for her adopted son’s attendance and her male’s composure. It would have been much worse if Koen had fought to get to her.

It would have made her more frightened than she already was.

“Focus on the quest.” Galina of Tyr spoke offhandedly as she rubbed her mounts large fleshy pink tongue. Her carnelian braid circled her head like a ginger crown. The vivid colour contrasted beautifully with her porcelain skin. Dressed in the dark purple colours of her House, her light green eyes fixed unwaveringly on Marina. “The Dragon King isn’t going anywhere.”

Marina watched Galina begin her quest on the gargantuan male with knifelike appendages on his oval tail fin.

Now it was her turn.

She had been advised by the Regent’s aide, Yaakov, a squat, robust male with biggest nose wart she’d ever seen, to be at the canyon by sunrise.

Marina had to pass through the lagoon with her water Dragon and reach the other side before the sun hit its highest point in the sky. The black lagoon wasn’t a third of the size of Goii-Goii. It wouldn’t take her much more than a couple of hours to cross it at a decent pace, but should she encounter any problems she thought it might be difficult to reach the end. Any major complications along the way then it really would be a race. Reaching her destination after midday meant she failed. Arriving without Fia meant she failed, or if Fia arrived without her, she failed. They were allowed to sustain injury, but a mortal wound was a failure.

That one had earned Yaakov a dry look. She could accept no help from outside sources, and if anyone helped her, she failed.

The word ‘failed’ revolved around her head in a taunting screech after the male had left with a jovial smile, and a rousing speech of how proud of the First Chosen the Courts were.

So much rested on her getting this done.

Truthfully, she would retain her wealth and most of what she’d come to love.

The only thing she’d lose is the right to marry Koen Raad.

Amazing how such a small right could cause so much grief. Neither he nor she would be able coldly to walk away if she lost. They’d try to stay together, and who knew if it’d work? She’d have to watch other Chosen fight for him every time Aver came about. It would destroy her to watch them vie for him when she owned his heart.

Shoving everything but what she must accomplish behind her, she focused on the shimmering path before her.

The dark waters looked innocuous enough.

Large islands jutted through the placid surface making her wonder if the lagoon had a cave system.

A roaring screech blasted through the morning air.

Going hunter-still, Marina instinctively lowered, preparing for attack.

Had one of the other Chosen come into contact with an enraged wild Dragon protecting territory?

Her stomach clenched remembering how she’d panicked and gotten herself trapped by the ice wolves within the arena. That couldn’t happen again. She needed to focus and remain calm until she reached the finish.

Sliding her hand over Fia, she mounted the water Dragon and whispered her encouragement.

The beast shook between her thighs.

No doubt she could sense the danger waiting for them on the other side of the natural barrier.

With a little coaxing Fia began a steady side sweeping motion with her sleek tail fin. She crooned dolefully, whimpering in fear.

Marina felt terribly guilty for bringing her before, but the soul wrenching sound had her feeling like a hateful bitch and she swore to protect the creature at all costs, the price of which would be devastatingly high.

Eventually, Fia quietened, and she included her wing fins in manoeuvring them from the safety of the shallows into the deeper waters.

The salty liquid lapping at Marina’s knees turned gloomy green from algae then continued turning darker until she saw nothing but black sludge and spiny seaweed.

How was she supposed to see if they were being attacked?

Fia acted and sounded a certain way the closer danger approached, but it would be nice to be able to see an oncoming threat.

Shuddering at what she needed to do, Marina took a breath. She leaned over and dunked her head under the rippling surface.

Opening her eyes stung, but the prickling sensation was manageable. Her body was designed to survive the brackish water. Faint outlines moved below them.

Was it fish, or monsters readying to devour?

The otherness had her shuddering with its sudden vigilance. Marina shoved the alien presence to the edges of her awareness.

Being submerged in the black lagoon was nothing like being underwater in Goi-Goi. There the water was so clean and fresh it appeared you looked through glass.

In the black lagoon life was veiled by a gritty sheen of charcoal.

Passing through a narrow passageway the canyon opened up before them.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

The surrounding steep banks were barren rock. The chance of her scrambling from the water and onto an outcrop for safety was slim.

Even so, there was no way Fia could follow.

They had to get to the other side.

Pockets of thick mud and volcanic rock were easy to see, and, unfortunately, smell. The dangerous pools were avoided with ease. The pungent odour and bright splash of orange sulphur worked as a perfect alarm signal for areas best avoided.

A subterranean rumble disturbed the glassy surface, and a burst of blistering liquid jettisoned into the air.

Daniil warned her the seismic activity of the black lagoon was as active and unpredictable as the eruptions at the Red Citadel. As long as they weren’t directly on top of a boiling geyser as it erupted they’d be fine. Daniil assured her Fia could sense them.

Much to her relief, Marina noticed the water Dragon consciously avoiding areas that seemed fine, but obviously held unseen peril.

Feeling eyes on her, Marina sent her growing awareness outward. Her senses came across wild ones following her progress high in the canyon.

Their colourful bodies gracefully hopped and flew across the craggy mountain ranges sending smaller rocks tumbling towards the basin.

It amused her they had an interest in what she did. Rather than feel hunted or tracked, she took it as a good omen.

Maybe Koen asked them to tag along.

Most of the morning passed in silence, broken only by the occasional burst of steam, falling of rocks, or a piercing warble from her guardians above.

The air was suffocating, moist, and the climbing sun scorching hot.

Even the water warmed, adding to the muggy atmosphere, impeding her vision as wispy vapour crept over the surface.

Sweat dripped from her brow to sting her eyes. Her hair stuck to her nape and temples making her itch. Breathing became difficult, and her nose burned from inhaling the sulphur. The discomfort worried her little, but the ability to smell reduced with each bitter lungful, and that made her leery.

The otherness grumbled sullenly, distressed by the sensory demur.

Marina for once sympathized with its feelings, because she depended on her sense of smell to tell her what her eyes and ears could not.

Fia shivered violently and slowed.

Her body dove deeper.

Alarm replaced Marina’s languid demeanour. She slipped off the dragon’s back to tread water at her side, holding onto gentle ridges swelling at the base of her elongated neck.

Scanning the still waters she saw nothing. The misty steam obscured sight of anything further down the lagoon.

Peering for time unknown she shook her head slightly, making an unsure noise at the back of her throat.

Whatever it was wasn’t coming directly at them.

“We can’t stay here,” Marina murmured. “The sooner we face it the better.”

Stroking Fia’s side, she got the trembling mount moving.

Anger and fear had her shaking at the unfair situation. She understood the reasoning behind having the Chosen pair up with dragons on each quest. The occupation they competed for may afford them luxury and subservience, but it also placed the responsibility of thousands of people directly on their shoulders. The Empress bore the even greater weight of protecting the Emperor. However, she found it highly unjust on the tame or captured wild ones used to recreate the dangerous circumstances overcome by the ancient Queens.

Fia was terrified, but swam bravely towards an unknown future she knew might kill her – all because she was trained to follow Marina’s lead.

The outline of a smudge appeared in the distance.

They advanced with care until Marina realised the shape was Galina treading water.

She watched something up ahead with a pretty face of thunder.

“Where’s your dragon?” Marina demanded voice pitched low, eyes scanning the surroundings for a threat.

Galina barely glanced her direction.

Her pouty lips thinned as she eyed Fia, obviously viewing the female as a foolish thought. “Scouting a path through that.” She flicked a wet hand up to point.

Marina craned her neck. “I can’t see....”

A gentle disturbance turned into a violent thrashing.

Huge dragons clashed under the water. Their ferocious movements forced them to the surface, enormous jaws snapping, bladed fins mercilessly slashing. They roared then dove under as their tails punched though the lagoon surface to crash down with inconceivable force, jettisoning crimson marbled water into the air.

The wild one lashed with a vicious spiked tail, and the smaller, mauve-coloured tamed dragon withdrew, grumbling angrily, but definitely on retreat.

Galina cursed.

“That’s your mount?” Marina croaked. She gaped in horror at the gory wound on the side of the dragon’s snout. “He’s hurt.”

Galina studied the bleeding gash.

Sighing, she patted her mount’s neck comfortingly before sending him back to try again. “Batyr is strong. He will not fail me.”

“Anastasia got through?”

“Yes.” Galina’s graceful jaw worked furiously. “Just before this male woke and charged to block my way. Stupid creature.”

Marina blinked at the acidic tone, and watched in disbelief as the male dragons reared and clashed yet again with no less ferociousness.

Guilt crept into Marina’s heart about what she considered doing. Royally screwing the other Chosen over would create yet another enemy with a personal vendetta.

Would it be considered weak by her critics if she offered her help as she helped herself?

Since when did she give a shit what the Courts thought?

“Hold onto Fia,” Marina ordered as she adjusted her hold.

Galina’s head whipped around. “What?”

“Your Batyr is providing the perfect distraction. Hold on. Fia will get us past.”

“But–”

“Really? I am not going to sit here convincing you.”

Flushing, Galina latched on.

It took a moment for Fia to settle at the unexpected grip. Marina urged her on with a quietly spoken command, adding another in a short bark for a sharp increase in speed.

Fia’s body dived, but her head and neck remained visible, reminding Marina of a hunting crocodile.

The water dragon sliced through the oily water’s surface, causing it to split and spray in glistening arcs either side of the Chosen.

Marina’s body lifted and her legs dangled as they powered forward.

As Batyr fought with the wild one they took a wide berth around the skirmish and ended up slowing a considerable distance away.

After a tense moment of silence, Galina chuckled darkly. “You understand that would have been less dangerous if you left me behind? She would have moved faster.”

Heart pounding, Marina managed a shrug. “As far as I’m concerned you’re not a threat to me.”

“You are wrong. This is a competition.”

“I don’t have to be a hateful bitch to be a strong competitor.”

Galina sniffed.

Detaching from Fia she swam back the way they came. Treading water, she shouted a terse instruction to her mount.

Batyr thrashed his tail before vanishing.

“Time to go, Fia. That wild one is not going to be happy.”

Again the pair cut through the water at pace, leaving the other Chosen and her mount to their own devices.

It was not long before they slowed.

This time Marina felt more than a stirring of fear. She experienced bone-deep dread.

Anastasia Vor, regal in her splendour, fierce as any warrior, battled three wild ones. And was losing. Blood misted the air and turned the murky water opaque.

The tame red dragon roared in pain as bladed tails punctured its flanks.

Batyr coasted to a stop beside them.

Once again mounted proudly at his front dorsal fin, Galina’s sweetly rounded face was troubled. “Visigoth looks bad.”

As if in denial of this, Anastasia cursed, and yelled a battle cry to push forward. Her mount tried again and again to pass the barricade of scaly flesh only to be beaten aside.

A tail skimmed taking Anastasia’s head off at the neck.

Blanching, she yanked her mount back and kept going until the males separated. She remained flat on his back, shaking badly as they retreated.

She shot straight and crushed her fear to nothingness when she realised she was no longer alone.

Gaze passing over them both, revealing only a hint of embarrassment, her mouth thinned. She appeared piqued to be caught unawares. “Either of you wish to try? My Visi must rest, but they must have none if one of us is to be victorious.”

Marina hid her surprise. “You’d partner up on this?”

Galina snorted. “She will use you as you used me, Princess. With them distracted by your pretty female she will slink past.”

Annoyed, Marina turned to the viper-tongued Chosen. “Used you did I? Try carried your busted ass keeping you in play.”

Galina had enough grace to flush in shame, even if she didn’t avert her eyes, or rise to the bait when called her on her bullshit.

“I am not some slimy Tyr,” Anastasia said. “I have honour.” She held out her arm to Marina. “We shall get past together. I am not above using enemy resources if it means victory. Especially since I plan to build a decent alliance with my fellow Queen.”

Galina jolted, affronted.

Her Dragon rumbled loudly sensing the upset of his mistress.

“So certain I will lose?” she hissed.

“You are too lazy and spiteful to be a Queen.” Anastasia said this casually, in a voice soft with certainty, as if it were the most natural thing in the world to insult somebody so harshly.

Unnerved by the conversation, Marina grabbed the offered arm and drew their hostile stares. “Deal. I have a plan.” She looked at a fuming Galina and forcefully offered her free arm. It was a silent order for the other woman to get over it. “Are you in?”

At the Chosen’s short nod and terrifyingly strong grip, the three broke their linked arms and looked at the now still water.

You would never know such terror lurked below.

“Fia and I can move faster than the wild ones,” Marina said, “but only for a while. Her energy lags after about a quarter hour. Then she needs to go at a slower pace.”

Anastasia eyed what could easily become a bottlenecked death trap. “How do we break the front line?”

“We need your larger males to create a distraction so we can slip through.” Marina figured it worked beautiful before, so why not now? “When we’re a little ahead, Fia and I will draw attention to ourselves.”

“How?” Galina demanded, suspicious.

The belligerent Chosen grated on Marina’s nerves. Hadn’t she already proven she was a fair and compromising even towards competitor?

No good deed goes unpunished, she thought wryly.

Marina kept her cool and responded icily. “Blood in the water should do it.”

Anastasia grimaced even as she nodded her agreement. “Brave females.” She stroked Fia’s flank. The ends of her hair fell into the water and floated like ghostly fingers. She smiled when Fia cooed. “Very brave.”

Marina warmed to the openly affectionate nature the Chosen displayed towards their mounts.

Anastasia may look like an icy blonde and act superior, but underneath it all beat a heart not devoid of compassion.

“Your males can punch through when the wild ones are distracted vying for dominance.” Marina chuckled without mirth. “Then we flee like hell for the border.”

“That is your plan?” Galina scoffed derisively. “Your female will be overtaken. These wild males are sneaky and they know every nook and crevice in this lagoon. There are underwater passages riddling the lakebed. They will take short cuts to hem her in.” She tossed her head imperiously. “You doom us all.”

“Shut up, Galina.” Marina didn’t bother to look at her. “I welcome you and Batyr to volunteer as collateral damage. I won’t lose any sleep over it.” A small lie easily told. “If all you’re going to do is bitch, I’ll leave your butt behind. Offer a helpful alternative before you reject my idea outright. Suggestions are welcome. Morale destroying criticism is not.”

Anastasia’s eyes smiled wickedly. “The idea is not favourable, but I can think of no better.” She lovingly petted the only unscathed spot on her Dragon’s snout – between his nostrils. Her face creased in distress when he whimpered. “My Visi is battered. How it galls me to admit it, but he cannot go at this alone. It would pain me to see him die at so young an age, for I cannot stop trying to succeed for the honour of my House.” She slid a taunting look at Galina. “Of course the path is unsavoury to you, Lady Tyr. Lesser warriors often balk at tests of warskill.”

The churlish Chosen gritted her teeth. “If a Vor has enough spine to employ this insanity so does a Tyr.” Galina kicked Batyr’s side. “Let us get this done.”

Anastasia winked at Marina over her shoulder before she coaxed her mount into following.

“This idea seemed less stupid in my head.” Marina yelled into the wind as Fia powered through the water.

The dragon paddled so fast Marina worried her skin would get left behind.

Batyr and Visigoth flanked Fia with their mistresses clinging for dear life.

None of the women dared look behind them.

Listening to the agitated roars from the wild ones giving chase was impetus enough.

“I told you,” Galina shouted. “This is insane.” Daring a look over her shoulder, when she faced the front again her eyes were glassy with fear, her lips the palest pink. “Faster.”

“Do not,” Anastasia barked. “My Visi barely keeps pace. He has taken too much damage.” As the water dragon swam a large streak of blood was left in his wake. His eyes were heavy lidded with fatigue, but still he swam with a determination that matched his mistress. “You vowed an alliance.”

“And I meant it,” Marina cried. “I won’t leave you behind.”

She held misgivings she could even if she wanted to.

Fia’s sides heaved as she laboured to carry Marina and travel the long distance at speed.

“We lost one.” Galina’s voice hollowed with fear. “He dived.”

“Deeper there is less resistance,” Anastasia said. “They move faster with the current.”

Galina’s eyes widened. “Underwater caves.”

Water erupted in a violent surge.

A wild one breached the surface. Its forest green scales were mottled and crusted with star shaped barnacles. It opened its triangular snout and roared, sounding like a prehistoric monster ready to devour and destroy.

Jerking wildly in the water, looking for an escape, Galina realised they were surrounded and screamed as if being murdered.

Raising her spear in challenge, Anastasia warbled a battle cry.

Visigoth bellowed with her, prepared for this last encounter to take his life.

Marina’s only sane thought was of retreat, but triumphant hissing and growling from behind confirmed she was trapped.

The otherness awakened.

A hacking cough rattled Marina’s bones, momentarily loosening her death grip on Fia.

Her eyes burned like hot coals and her vision faded at the edges.

Really panicking now, as her body revolted at the worst of times, she choked and spluttered as her throat constricted in a sharp clench. The sensation, burning from the inside out, was dreadful. Her insides felt stripped raw as flecks of glowing brimstone forced past the tensing flesh and flitted past her cheek in flares of pain, grazed her hair, singing it, and intermingled with the smoke billowing past her lips. It tasted bitter and acrid. The foul smoke quickly dispersed in the humid air rushing past as strong breeze swept through the yawning canyon.

Scared out of her wits, Marina’s nails dug into Fia’s ridges, yanking her to a stop.

The enraged wild one bore down on them. He aggressively reared from the water as if to body slam Fia and drag her into the murky depths.

“There is nowhere to run.” Anastasia lifted her chin as she awaited her fate. “I will not die afraid.”

Galina shrieked like a lunatic.

Screams and battle cries ringing distantly in her ears, Marina let go of her pitifully trembling mount, oddly calm in the midst of chaos as her drubbing heartbeat hypnotised her.

The tempo slowed, and the rushing in her ears quieted until she heard the rhythmic chanting of a guttural voice deep within.

She blinked as the centre of her eyeballs ignited with chilled flame, the twin sensations of hot and cold stabbing stilettos of pain.

Gasping harshly, she shuddered as the otherness slithered and twisted beneath her flesh.

This wasn’t like with the ice wolves.

That had been a gentler rising of power. This was forceful, absolute, and inevitable in its permanency. The barricade around this foreign invader cracked. It split down the middle and rumbled like a volcano clearing its throat.

The presence was no longer a disembodied voice offering magick and predatory insight, but a living, breathing, mystical fright baring fangs and claws.

The air turned from sweltering to chilled.

Her next breath was a frigid puff of vapour that hardened to sparkling crystals.

She lifted her hand to touch her lips and stilled.

Dark scales rippled across the back of her hand and down her wrist.

Jerking, she grabbed the hand and was horrified to witness a pulse of light under the flesh of her forearm as more ghastly looking scales pushed through her skin then faded before she could scrape them off.

The wild one roared.

Head snapping up, Marina’s fear receded. She growled. The foreign creature taking over silently roared back, and an inferno exploded from within Marina’s chest, yet enveloped her body in biting cold. She knew terror as control was wrenched from her by a previously latent part of her psyche, merging with the instinct that ruled supreme when survival was death’s alternate.

With a will of their own, both pulsing hands jerked forward on the surface of the water.

Frost raced down her arms and set the surging liquid into a rumpled glacier.

The wild one slammed into a creeping wall of ice.

It’s broad snout crinkled as its lips peeled back and ivory fangs wreathed in seaweed gnashed. Oval pupils dilated to startling voids, rounded with shock. The wild one thrashed and rose from the diminishing water. Its bloated body twisted and contorted in blazing agony.

Snared in the icy fingers sliding above and below the surface, he moaned eerily as he froze, appearing a diamond encrusted statue in the middle of the lagoon iced over bank to bank.

Sunlight danced over the multifaceted shell of the once dominant male of the black lagoon.

A rainbow jubilee of colour slashed across the stunned faces of the three Chosen cowering by their mounts in the behemoth’s shade.

“Mother Goddess, save me,” Galina whispered.

“Shit,” was Marina’s less eloquent response.

Less impressed and faster to recover, Anastasia rushed into action. She scrambled over Visigoth’s hulking hide to enter the now icy water with an ungainly splash.

She swam over and grabbed Marina’s rigid arm. “Again. This time get them all. Can you make it go down? All the way.”

The Chosen thrust Marina’s cramping hand under the water. They watched, bewildered, as the frost continued to spread from her splayed fingers.

The otherness stirred with feral pleasure, stretching and rolling over contentedly.

Marina decided ignoring it wasn’t working out for her.

The wild ones pursuing them were barricaded behind a wall of sparkling ice.

All that remained liquid was a thin strip the First Chosen’s uneasy water dragons floated within.

“Good. Now we have time.” Anastasia released her tingling wrist and slapped her shoulder. “You are surprisingly useful. We go now.”

Marina managed a strangled noise before jerking both hands from the water to her chest.

A wide-eyed glance showed the scales were gone.

Did the other Chosen see?

Dazed, she began to flounder, as her legs grew tired keeping her afloat. She let Fia nose her over to the ice and push her onto the slick rime.

Already the sun melted the unnatural floe.

“Do you think it’s dead?” she asked in a small voice.

“Who can say?” Anastasia gave Visigoth a kiss on his ravaged snout then sent him diving with a curt command. “Send the female under into the caves with my Visi. He will protect her. The ice goes too far for us to go under with them. I cannot hold my breath that long.” She gave Marina a funny look, as if she expected her to start shitting gold nuggets. “Can you?”

“I don’t want her to leave me.” Panting to hold back sobs, Marina clutched the purple Dragon. Fia was a solid and comforting presence in her shattered world. Fia was safe. She didn’t care how feeble she sounded, how weak she appeared clinging like a frightened child. “I want her with me.”

“Come now. Our alliance stands until we reach the other side.” The resilient Chosen bounded to her feet and dragged an unwilling Marina onto hers. “You have done much, so I will help you.”

Marina wilted, her limbs flaccid and her knees wobbly.

As gentle coaxing failed to get her moving, Anastasia slapped her across the face.

Staggering back, Marina’s hand flew to her flaming cheek. Anger overshadowed the fear. “What the hell is your problem?”

“I heard you had moments of terror.” Crossing her arms over her ample bosom, Anastasia was unrepentant. “You breathe too fast and you go loopy. I see this now. Your eyes are crazy. Truth? I hoped to use them against you.” Rolling her eyes, she sighed. “Seeing it for myself all I summon is pity. I feel no desire to exploit this weakness, much to my shame.” Nudging Marina with an elbow, her blue eyes twinkled naughtily. “You will make me soft.”

“She is not natural,” Galina muttered.

She scrambled onto the iceberg, still trembling with aftershocks of terror. She inched closer to the frozen wild one.

Expression leery, she hesitantly slid her fingertips across the translucent ice.

Her hand came away wet.

She shivered and rubbed her arms, shrinking back. “It is cold.”

“Frozen solid.” Anastasia’s voice was dark with satisfaction. “Serves it right for harming my Visi. Those males will trouble us no more.” She looked at the horizon then higher at the sun. She tucked damp gold hair behind her ears. “Time is short. We go now.”

Trailing behind, Marina skirted the statue the evidence the inner voice was very real then turned her back to it with a ragged gulp of air.

Picking up her feet, she ran for the finish.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Never will I forgive myself. Koen Raad tucked his wings and swopped low over the black lagoon.

He was in shock.

Daniil and Nikolai echoed his astonishment.

Koen’s shrewd gaze landed on the crestless back of a blue Dragon so light it appeared silver.

When the cry had gone up of peril on the lagoon, Jakob reacted with as much concern as the rest of them.

Daniil clearly wanted to protest his presence, but let it alone in deference of the need for swiftness.

So Jakob flew with them, yet not, for he remained lower and silent.

The male seemed as reluctant in accepting Marina’s offer to become her Second as Daniil was in allowing the male to replace him at her side.

Koen felt both relieved and panicked by the change. Relieved because beneath it all Daniil and Marina’s relationship worried him. They’d come so close to crossing the line of friendship to lover – so very close.

He fought the jealousy each moment they were together alone, because he trusted her, and realised she would never betray him if he remained true. It helped Daniil had already been tested in the worst way when it came to his Treasure yet remained honourable out of loyalty to their long-time friendship.

Now, his panic stemmed from the knowledge another male would become close to his love.

His Dragon didn’t know, or trust this male.

It made the situation difficult.

Having Marina move into the midst of other Dragon Lords he wasn’t familiar with, family or no, didn’t help either.

Jakob banked hard falling from sight.

It was as if he felt the Dragon King’s attention and wished to be free of it.

Dipping his snout, Koen focused on the astounding manifestation rushing past beneath them.

The usually swift and warm dark waters were iced over, its inhabitants breaking through the rime in fear-filled panic.

At the mouth of the canyon the wild ones were frenzied. They roared and screeched as they flew haphazardly across the ragged landscape, slamming into each other and the peaks of the rocky chasm in their crazed riot.

Koen’s scaled brow furrowed in a scowl.

They would hurt themselves if the erratic behaviour continued.

Dropping from above, Mikhail joined the four Dragon Lords, his booming voice edged with worry. ‘They will not listen.’

Bronze scales glimmering in the midday sun, Nikolai somersaulted into a vertical dive. His leathery wings snapped open and his claws scraped the zenith of a shimmering glacier.

It was one of many bobbing on the brackish surface.

‘The lagoon is frozen yet the sun shines.’ Nikolai angled higher to rejoin his brother. ‘I understand a Council Mon has the power to do this, but such interference on a Chosen’s behalf–’

‘I did not do this,’ Mikhail interjected. The gravity of his tone left them in no doubt he told the truth. ‘I would not compromise her in such a way.’

Koen was at a loss to explain what he saw. He would not have believed it unless seen with his own two eyes. ‘Did you witness what happened?’

‘No.’ Mikhail’s great head thrashed in irritation. His ivory horns jutted at a deadly angle. ‘That does not mean another Council Mon did not interfere on behalf of another Chosen. Putting my offspring at risk.’ His fury was undeniable. ‘I kept my distance for peace of mind. But the wild ones were uncommonly interested and followed her.’

‘What do they say?’ As a mere Wyvrae, Daniil could not communicate with the wild ones, as could a Phoenix, yet their abnormal behaviour troubled him. ‘They are so aggressive.’

‘They keep crying ‘female’.’ Koen’s disturbed tone affected them all. He should have control over the wild creatures, but they refused to heed him. ‘At first I thought I heard wrong.’

‘They say nothing else,’ Mikhail agreed.

Daniil rumbled deeply in his throat.

The cooler air wafting from the ice reminded him of home. It caused an unwelcome ache in his heart. He knew that was why Jakob flew lower, so as to glory in the chilly air and take pleasure in the kaleidoscope sparkles created by the sunlight.

‘Perhaps Mages?’ he said.

Nikolai dismissed the idea. ‘The delegation has been sighted. It is yet a day away.’

‘So?’ Blunt. Accusatory. ‘They seek to confuse us.’

Eyes cutting at being questioned, Nikolai bared his teeth. ‘Ever do you see plots, Dani. I am telling you, it is not the Mages.’

‘Rina may call me Dani.’ The smooth-backed sapphire Dragon swerved. Snapped at the bronze’s larger hide. ‘That is Lord Kol to you, brat. Or my worshipful master.’

‘I would rather freeze my cock off than call you master.’

Koen was ready to snap at them but his keen gaze spotted a protrusion in the near distance. Truthfully, there was no missing it. ‘What the hells is that?’

The mighty Dragons descended upon the largest ice floe in the lagoon with a great beating of gigantic wings.

Jakob’s decent was graceful and sure-footed.

As deft as his fellow ice breather, Daniil was used to landing on ice, and did so flawlessly.

Nikolai found the slick surface troublesome. He skidded until he was at risk of tumbling tail over snout into the water.

Daniil pounced and snagged his hind leg in his maw. Biting down, he dragged the Raad away from the edge and shook his head playfully, rubbing his victim’s underbelly across the cold ground.

‘Frozen cock was it?’ He shook with more force. ‘Refreshing?’

Shaken from his tumble, it took Nikolai a while to gather his bearings. ‘Bastard.’

Daniil chuckled darkly and let go when smoke billowed from the bronze’s broad snout.

‘There is a lava pool back home that will singe your balls off.’ Nikolai twisted, growling. He snapped at the sapphire Dragon. ‘It now has your name on it. Watch your back, Kol.’

Jakob snorted and lumbered past the bickering pair.

Ignoring the rough-housing, Koen, Jakob and Mikhail prowled towards the strange mass jutting from the ice.

The eldest Dragon realised what he moved towards. He halted. ‘I do not believe it.’

Jakob’s confident stride faltered.

He breathed a lengthy hiss tinged with dragonfrost. Crouching, his overlarge eyes slid from side to side as if expecting an ambush.

Pushing past his disbelief – his courage a faultless thing – Koen Raad didn’t stop his heavy stomp until he was snout to snout with the giant beast.

Half its body was encased below the water, but still the brute was so large Koen’s own vast size appeared diminished.

Deathly serious and quiet in his scrutiny, he reared onto his hind legs. He knew those bloodshot eyes. He had looked into them before and seen death. The alpha male of the black lagoon was encased in a shroud of thick ice, a feat Koen himself would have been hard pressed to do without a considerable amount of mental preparation. Though he was a master at dragonfire, his skills with dragonfrost were far lesser. Of course, being the Dragon King he could go claw to claw with an ice breather and come out victorious, but only by a small measure if only using that skill. It was worth noting a group of powerful Mages could manage this deed. But he believed Nikolai. There were none of those magickal barbarians near this treacherous place. He would sense such a strong use of foreign power so close. He had felt nothing untoward around the canyon or in the lagoon other than a swelling of Dragon magick. That was not an uncommon thing to feel in this Kingdom, and not uncommon to feel during Aver. The Chosen were not devoid of mystical energy, even if they were not dual-natured. His Treasure had more than her fair share of Dragon blood that revealed itself in extraordinary ways.

His next breath hitched and his pulse raced.

Back on four claws, his blocky head turned to meet Mikhail’s knowing gaze. ‘I know she is strong.’ His voice was deadpan. ‘But this is far beyond what I expected. She could have been seriously harmed.’

Slamming his tail onto the ice, Mikhail stopped scenting the area and bared his fangs ‘Has she shown you she is anything but capable?’

Koen didn’t flinch. He met the older Phoenix’s enraged gaze. ‘No.’

‘My offspring is the perfect battle-mate. She was born to lead, to fight.’ Mikhail huffed angrily, offended. ‘Are you intimidated? Your fear dishonours her.’

Koen snorted.

He was a predator, fearing nothing, intimidated by no one. Treating a female as fragile to stroke his sense of self was beneath him.

It was the mark of a weak male who repressed his female’s independence.

He was anything but weak.

Discovering his mate possessed her own strength relieved him. He had peace of mind she wouldn’t do something unwise or succumb due to lack of strength the moment he turned his back.

‘Do not insult me. Nothing could make me love her less. I wish her safe but never will I restrain her might simply so that I feel more secure. Her power attracts me, but this?’ He tossed his head. ‘I dislike her in danger. I admit it. There is no changing that. Just as there is no changing to overprotect her would dim her fire.’ He ran his gaze over the frozen wild one. ‘The female holds my heart, as I hold hers. I am not ashamed to say the thought of losing her terrifies me. She is changing, growing. I love her for it. But....’

He quieted, intense, brooding.

There were no words for what he felt. He wanted her protected but she had to be free to roam. There were times he could intervene. This was one of those times he wished to be at her side, could not, feared she’d fail without him to guide her, and yet she had managed fine.

It was foolish to feel sad she triumphed alone. That was something to be proud of.

‘See how I bare my soul when I should be thrashing you for hurting her?’

The Council Mon grumbled and lowered his snout to the ice.

He sniffed and snuffled along the ground until he lifted his head and peered towards the horizon. ‘All three passed this way.’ He looked through the Dragon King, deeply occupied by his thoughts.

Jakob broke the hush. ‘This solves nothing. We will not be certain of what happened until we speak to her.’

We? As far as Koen Raad was concerned there was no ‘we’ when it came to his Treasure.

He regarded the other male stonily.

Had he asked his opinion?

Jakob stared back. There was no challenge in the look, merely resigned acceptance.

Marina wanted him on side, and at some moment between her asking and this quest he’d decided to offer her allegiance.

He meant no disrespect to his King, but he wasn’t going to pretend he was less dominant than he truly was simply to appease misplaced jealousy. ‘You know I am right.’

Disgusted by his bad-mannered thoughts, Koen relented.

He ceased his damning stare and concentrated on piecing together what happened.

Nikolai and Daniil joined them. Both males investigated the frozen wild one.

Daniil was disturbed on a primitive level. They were predators, but even he held respect for the larger wild ones that shared the land. To see one of the greatest defeated was disconcerting as it was alarming. He did not like the idea Anastasia had been in the midst of this, and he knew Koen would be beside himself until Marina snuggled into his arms.

Of the three Nikolai acted the least disturbed. He knew his sister-to-be was fierce. He held no doubt this wonder was all her.

Koen sprung into the air and gracefully extended his wings. He climbed until he hovered an optimal distance from the ice and inhaled, rigid tail anchoring his position in the sky.

Hearing the deep draw of breath the other Dragon Lords took off as he released a torrent of magick infused flames upon the floe. Streams of heat merged with the black Dragon’s mystical fire and melted the unnatural ice into lesser chunks.

Jakob flew lazy circles high above them, lamenting the loss of the reminder of his homeland.

Waiting patiently at their backs, Daniil watched the fire breathers with a measure of awe.

He was proud of the ability to breathe dragonfrost, but there was a surreal quality to the way dragonfire flowed through the air. His own flurry of ice was far more aggressive and cutting.

The fire had a grace he never tired of seeing.

The frozen wild one broke away with an air-splitting crack.

It bobbed ominously in the water before its great weight sank. The beast slipped under the rippling water into the murky depths.

Koen and his Dragon Lords made haste. Flying towards the noonday sun each male prayed the Princess was safe.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Marina crossed the finish half an hour after the other First Chosen. During the last leg she’d hit a wall, and her flagging energy drained faster than she was able to cope with.

She was dehydrated, pale, and close to collapsing when she reached the far bank with scant minutes to spare before midday.

The Courts descended upon her hunched form en mass.

Unknown faces thrust into hers, unfamiliar voices demanding explanations as the other Chosen finished speaking of frozen water monsters and a river of ice crystals.

Marina searched for a friendly face amongst the crowd.

No one was there to help her escape.

Weak, confused, she stood there, wet and shivering as she struggled to articulate answers to please the people feverishly pulling and yelling at her. Ice had scraped her soles and heels bloody, so her feet were sore and bleeding.

It was Sevastyan and his son who sheltered her from the rabble.

A forbidding Captain Vadik led the way as they escorted her from the muddy bank and the questioning crush of strangers.

She recuperated from the quest at the closed marquee Sevastyan thoughtfully set up to receive her.

It was plain compared to the other grandiose pavilion’s which displayed spires topped with pennants, elaborate warrens of lesser tents set up as antechambers, and additional quarters. The unadorned structure was warm, contained hot water for a rag bath and a soft sleeping area separated by a woven-grass screen.

It was blessedly private.

Stumbling over the threshold onto the tatami mats covering the swampy ground, she mumbled a relieved thank you.

She insisted the Dragon Lords and Vadik join her inside when it seemed they would leave her.

The Captain declined, preferring to bodily bar the entrance flap.

At his Sire’s firm nod, Victor politely accepted the invitation on their behalf, mostly because they doubted she could stand without fainting from exhaustion.

Sevastyan led her to the bedding.

Viktor attentively went about pouring lukewarm water into a shallow bowl, and lugging it, soap, and squares of cloth over to the bed.

Eyelids dropping, Marina felt her arms being lifted overhead then slapping her sides. She was stark naked before she realised what was happening. Squealing, she covered herself awkwardly with her arms, gawking incredulously.

Rolling his eyes, Sevastyan carried on scrubbing the cake of soap into her mucky hair.

Face scarlet, Viktor avoiding looking at her as he washed her sludge covered feet and lower legs. He paid rapt attention to ensuring her feet were cleansed and dried to keep her from falling sick then smeared ointment over the cuts.

She spluttered feebly as Sevastyan pushed her head to her knees to rinse her loose waves using a pitcher of cooler water.

Sitting her up he swiped a rag over face before she could speak then roughly dried her off with a towel.

Her skin prickled, clogged pores exulting in being somewhat clean.

“You can bathe properly when you are alone,” Sevastyan said brusquely. There was not the faintest hint of inappropriate lusting in his voice. He viewed her much like a taxing daughter who’d gotten herself dirty when playing. “At least now you will not be itching your scalp or scratching this lovely face as you rest.”

Making a clicking noise of displeasure, Viktor ripped something from her skin.

“Argh.” Short-tempered as a result of her fatigue, Marina readied to fussily slap him away. “Wha?” She blanched at the slimy creature trapped between Viktor’s blunted fingernails.

“A leech. Fat and happy.” He chucked the wriggling beasty into an empty bowl. “Sorry, I hurt you.” Sparing her a knowing grin, he gave her upper calf a friendly pat as he cleaned the irritated abrasion the bug left behind. “It would have fallen off when it was done feeding. I thought you might become distressed if you felt it when you were alone.”

She swallowed a whimper of discomfort. The image of reaching down and feeling that thing hooked into her skin as it greedily sucked her blood bothered her. She hadn’t felt the thing at all.

“Thank you,” she whispered. They understood by her timid manner she thanked them not just for removing the leech. “I was sort of lost back there.”

Gently cleaning streaks of brownish grime off her arms, Sevastyan hesitated. “I understand after the last quest House Zar saw to your care. It seems in the confusion of moving and changing guard someone, ah, overlooked arranging servants to tend you at the finish. This is something the House Head arranges.”

“Oh, hey now.” She patted his arm. “Don’t beat yourself up about it. You’ll get it right next time.”

He blinked. “Marina, you are Ryu House Head.”

She opened her mouth then closed it. Rubbed her nose. “But you.... How?”

“You took it when you joined our family. You hold the highest noble rank. You are royal.”

She groaned. “I didn’t know that. I didn’t realise everything Mikhail took care of for me.”

Genuinely upset and sorely missing Mikhail’s all-embracing presence, she sighed. Her embarrassment over being nude died. The Dragon Lord’s platonic manner made it clear they saw her as family to be fussed over.

“I wonder what else I’ve forgotten.” She gazed at her uncle hopelessly. “Is there other stuff I’m supposed to be doing for you that I’m not?”

Sevastyan regarded her steadily. A kind expression softened his strong features, because frankly, he found this young female astonishing.

It was not in the nature of the affluent to admit failings.

He felt her pride, but the casual acknowledgement of her mistakes revealed said pride was balanced by humility.

“If it is agreeable to you I shall oversee details concerning your aftercare during Aver. I will also manage the House until you are ready.”

Thankful tears misted Marina’s eyes. “I’d be honoured. As for being House Head, that’s your job. I can’t see myself doing better.” She was chagrined. “Especially since I have no idea what the position entails.”

Giving into the urge to show affection, he thumbed her chin. “Think nothing of it.” He stood and took the dirtied rags and water with him. “Come, Viktor. She needs rest.”

“I am done.” He stood and held out his hand.

A pearlescent scale diffracted the light and threw a spectrum of vivid colour onto her stunned face.

“Here. This was stuck to your ankle.” Calmer, his lisp was less pronounced. “At first glance I thought it was a scute, but it must have come from the lower underbelly of the water Dragon you defeated. You see how it is small and softer than hide scale?” He looked puzzled for a moment, but it passed, and he let the piece of dragonflesh drop onto her loosely cupped palm. “A memento to commemorate your victory.” He smiled bashfully. “Congratulations, Cousin. You are half way to becoming our Queen.” He bowed and quit the area.

Marina’s fingers curled around the scale. She forced her face into a stiff smile.

Her uncle considered nothing amiss. He noted her silence and stiff posture, but dismissed it as a result of the trial she’d overcome.

Proud of his offspring’s gallantry, he adjusted the screen to shield her from prying eyes, and ruffled Viktor’s hair as he passed.

Sevastyan turned to give her a warm smile. “Sleep. When you wake there will be food.”

A wave of drowsiness rushed over her shoulders and pressed down on her crown. Marina rolled onto her side and sort of flopped the covers over her body. The bed was warmed from her and Sevastyan’s combined body heat, and she shuddered in pleasure. Warm. Dry. Delicious aromas of food cooking had her mouth watering and her stomach rumbling. The murmur of conversation as Sevastyan and Viktor discussed the quest was soothing. Their low voices covered the noisy racket made by the citizens held at bay by Vadik and his Dragon Men.

Marina closed her eyes. Exhausted, and so naturally, sleep eluded her. Her closed hands tightened and pushed between her thighs.

Her mind reeled over what happened on the lagoon, and she began to feel slightly sick.

The scale Viktor found on her ankle was the same colour and shape as the ones she’d seen rippling over her hands when she’d frozen the water.

Did that mean more of her body had sprouted armoured flesh?

She knew from Koen that Dragon scales shed, a natural part of the hide’s cycle. This one had obviously shed during her dodgy transformation, and slime from the lagoon adhered it to her skin.

Viktor had no idea he’d held the scale of a creature that was not supposed to exist.

She faced the truth head on. No longer could she pretend it was getting better or easier to ignore. The voice in her head, the overpowering instincts, even the animalistic growling could be explained by the dragonlike characteristics all Chosen possessed, but the beautiful scale burning a hole in her fist was irrefutable proof that she might be ... that she could....

Scrunching tighter into a ball, Marina quieted her thoughts. She tumbled into a blissful abyss of calm under the healing spell of slumber.

It was dark when she woke.

It took a moment for her pounding heart and tense body to make sense. Her foggy mind caught up with her inherent danger alarms as the arguing outside the marquee grew in volume.

Marina listened tiredly to Koen Raad’s booming voice arguing with the Regent.

He defended his right to be at her side.

“I will see her now,” he raged only for Myron to stridently respond, “Do not force my hand.”

She knew the Regent loathed denying him. Keenly aware the eyes of the Drackai and Wyvrae Courts would be unshakably focused on them, his hands were tied. He had to act with the utmost propriety.

Koen agreed to leave, but extracted a promise from Daniil to report on her condition when he returned to the Citadel.

Marina groaned as she shoved into an upright position. She leaned back on her arms and bent her knees, feeling soreness within muscles she hadn’t known existed.

Her mind wandered, and she started remembering the scale.

Panicked, she searched in the bedding until she found the momentous piece of flesh stuck to her upper thigh with sweat.

She rubbed her thumb over the glittery surface and was calm enough to appreciate the isolated beauty of what she held.

“At least I’ll look pretty,” she whispered.

A repulsive image of her body stuck in a creepy half-human half-Dragon form sprang from the darkest recesses of her mind to contradict that statement. She shuddered. Surely she wasn’t some kind of mutated freak. If she could shift it would be all the way, and not into some deformed monster, wouldn’t it? Then again nature often fucked up badly. What if there was a problem with her on a genetic level? Would the nobles decide she wasn’t suitable to sit on their throne? Would the Dragon Council rule to have her culled so her mutation was eradicated from the gene pool?

The hair on the back of her neck stood on end, and goose pimples appeared on her arms from a gripping chill of dread.

She knew keeping the otherness a secret was dangerous. She wouldn’t be able to hide it forever. What if she sprouted scales during a feast? She’d already growled in front of Koen, Daniil and the Regent. Gotten territorial over Cathryn. Devoured fish whenever she had a chance. They’d shrugged her behaviour off, but she doubted they’d turn a blind eye to scales sliding across her skin.

She was confident Galina and Anastasia saw nothing. Even if they had glimpsed something strange – stranger than her freezing a wild one – she reasoned they’d keep their mouths shut. Drawing more attention to her at such a critical time would be brainless, and Houses Tyr and Vor were not stupid. Their advisors were canny, ruthless and the only reason she’d not been chewed up and spat out was because she’d had influential males in Houses Raad, Zar and Kol watching her back. After all, she might not be a freak. She might be more powerful, and they wouldn’t want to jeopardise losing the support of other Houses who felt Marina was definitely going to become Empress.

Exhaling, Marina rubbed her lips as a bubble of laughter gurgled in her throat.

Scary as the changes were the otherness was beginning to feel like a natural part of who she was.

Potential for disaster aside, it was all pretty exciting.

Marina wedged the scale in the thin decorative crevice that made up her jade pendant. She’d hide it somewhere safer once she got back to the Citadel. She gathered the blanket around her, intending to use it as a makeshift dress, but spotted a folded pile of clothing at the foot of the pallet.

She crawled over and inspected the garment.

It was an overlarge male tunic that was long enough to work as a dress.

As she got dressed, she mulled her situation.

All she had to do was keep it together. She could visit the fortress Annals and research into the previous High Princesses.

Maybe she wasn’t such an anomaly. Maybe her predecessors carried a secret they took to the grave.

She was done running.

It was the reason she’d been so vulnerable during the second quest.

The initial feat of magick had been infinitesimal compared to the succeeding. What would the third be like? She had to embrace the otherness. Maybe then it wouldn’t wrench control away from her as it had in the black lagoon.

The flap to the marquee was tugged aside.

A breeze churned into the cosy space and refreshed the stale air.

Heavy stomps, and the low-key clunk of armour told her a Wyvrae Dragon Lord approached, doubtless sent to see if she’d awakened.

Jakob stuck his silvered head around the screen. His brows lifted at her scanty dress and he nodded solemnly when he saw she was alert.

That Jakob had no problem gaining access to his Treasure was something the Dragon King could to roar about.

And man, did he roar, deafeningly, with smoke and brimstone.

Marina smelt it, and felt a burst of heated air swirl into the tent.

He bellowed until a thunderous beating of wings drowned out Daniil’s shouting for him to calm.

The world shook as whirling airstreams generated from his take off battered the tent and vigorously rustled the fabric sides.

Rested enough to find Koen’s temper amusing, Marina waved at the ceiling, giggling.

He’d regret the violent exit once he realised his outburst woke her up.

A jaw-cracking yawn cast off the last remnants of sleep. She ran her hands through her tangled hair then with a pitched noise of disgust, rubbed sleep crust from the corner of her eyelids. Marina sat with her legs bent under her bottom, her knees facing her guest who she directed to the stool Viktor left behind. “He’s been like that all day, huh? I’m surprised he didn’t blow sooner.”

“Lord Kol and Nikolai kept him calm, but....” Jakob shrugged. “He will not be sensible until he holds you. It is the nature of the beast.” He scooted around the screen and made sure she was properly covered before drawing closer. “You know him well.” Reaching her side, he hesitated to sit. He could see how exhausted she still was and a part of him feared for his life being in her presence like this when the Dragon King was so protective. “What do you want me to tell him?”

Marina gave up on her half-assed grooming attempt.

Looking Jakob in the eye, she saw his decision, and took hold of his enormous hand.

Everything about the Dragon Lords was massive. They were simply larger than ordinary men. Not surprising considering the savage creatures lurking beneath the surface.

“So you’re mine,” she said.

A dangerous but glorious future stretched at Jakob’s feet.

Swearing an oath to this female would lessen the taint from his dishonoured House. A lifetime of servitude at a royal’s side would see him recorded in the Annals amongst legends.

This self-realised prophecy intimidated him.

Jakob strived to be a honourable male, but his past revealed a disquieting trait. He frequently found himself on the wrong side of honour.

His stance widened and his shoulders squared.

Resolve burned bright in his heart.

All he could do is try to be a male worthy of recognition. After spending time with the Dragon King, he realised males were males. Some were born special. Yet to retain a higher self-worth, and earn the respect of those who mattered it was your actions not the consequences of your birth that defined you.

He inhaled harshly. The breath was released in a grim sigh. “Yes. I am your male.” He snorted when she good-naturedly punched his middle.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Marina grinned madly when Jakob knelt and offered fealty. As he rose, she pushed onto her knees and hugged him tightly about the neck, her chin resting on his shoulder.

Jakob returned the embrace.

Hearing her whisper words of gratitude his heart melted.

If ever he’d had a sister, he thought he might like the female to be Marina.

He patted her shoulder awkwardly and untangled himself to drop onto the stool.

The soft blankets piled on the simple bed retained Marina’s warmth, and felt exquisite under her worn out body. She lay on her side, propping her head on her hand. “Well, you won’t have to tell your King anything. Daniil will storm in here after calming Koen down then run off to report everything he’s learnt.” Marina was disquieted at the resentment she heard underlying her own words.

Until she’d had a Second of her own, she’d not realised the consummate sense of trust one could have to another person who vowed to be loyal to you.

She looked her new Second in the eye so he could see her apprehension. “Koen saw what I did.”

Jakob’s chest constricted remembering the black lagoon. He got passed it on his next breath. Excitement chased away the fear. This was his life now – he’d have to deal with it.

He shrugged, feigned nonchalance. It would do no good if he were afraid of the royal he chose to serve.

He was done fearing his betters.

“It did not change how he feels about you,” he said. “Is that what concerns you?”

She flashed a crooked smile. “It’ll take more than that to scare Koen Raad, mighty Dragon King. Even I know that.”

Jakob considered holding his own council but what good would he be as her Second if he couldn’t speak his mind and ask what he needed to know? “What happened?”

Marina gripped the furs. She panted a little.

The reaction unnerved him.

Slowly her hand travelled to her throat, her fingers dipping under the neckline of the tunic.

Jakob watched warily as her hand travelled between her breasts.

Her guarded eyes met his, and she pulled out her pendant. She pulled something small from the carved lump of jade and held it out.

He took what she offered and stared at it.

What was so special about this she hid it from sight?

“A scale,” he said flatly.

When she said nothing, he assumed there was more to it, and studied what she’d handed him in greater detail. His head cocked and he brought it closer to his eye, angling it closer to the firelight. There was something unique about it. The answer eluded him, titillated a dormant part of his spirit. His Dragon stirred uneasily. The texture was familiar, but undoubtedly unusual. He clearly held a Dragon scale but...

“You got this from a wild female?” He glanced up to search her face for answers.

She offered no explanation. Her gaze sharpened on his, and she scooted closer. “How did you know that?”

“The grain. Males have a pearlescent sheen to their hide scales, crystallized layers of shiny circles.” He made a loop in the air with a finger as he searched his memory. It was odd to explain something people who needed to know already knew. He snapped his fingers. “The sheen is called nacre. This has an opalescent lustre seen on wild Dragon females. You see how it is black, but light reveals coloured fire in the darkness.” He handed it back to her reverently. “It is beautiful.”

She blushed. “Thank you.” She paused. “On behalf of that female.”

“Rare.” He frowned. “In truth, I have never even seen a black scaled wild one that was female. They are considered myth. This is a great find indeed.” He nodded, still unsure as to what that had to do with what happened at the lagoon. “Did a wild female help you during the quest?”

“No.” She tucked the scale and her pendant away. “I froze the lagoon and the water Dragon. It was trying to kill us. I was afraid and it just happened.” She cleared her throat. “I’ve been told Chosen with magick isn’t uncommon.”

“It is not, but so strongly, and in one who only just discovered who she was.” Jakob’s brows drew together. “I presume your ancestry has much to do with it. You are the offspring of a Phoenix.” His face smoothed. “It makes sense.”

Marina felt herself relax. Like everyone else Jakob was impressed by her skill, maybe even unsettled by it, but saw nothing unnatural about it.

With people perceiving her differences this way she could hold onto her suspicions a while longer.

“I can’t explain how the scale is connected just yet. I need more information before I start throwing ideas around. Keep it to yourself, okay? You’re the only one who knows.”

He nodded. Turned as the marquee flap wrenched open.

Jakob checked to make sure she was decently covered before pushing the screen aside. He stood at the foot of the bed, his legs shoulder width apart, and clasped his hands behind his back

His expression was vacant, eyes watchful.

Daniil’s stunning gaze studied them silently before he snorted and strode over to give Marina a bone-crushing hug. “Female, you scared us half to death. What are you not telling me?”

She punched his shoulder. “Don’t question me. Where were you? When I finished I was nearly mowed over.”

Marina knew the oversight was entirely her own fault, but truthfully, she was a little hurt no one else close to her had thought of it, namely, the Dragon Lord she hugged.

She was too dependent on him for things within her capability to manage, and she had to remedy it, fast.

Convincing Daniil of it would be a trial. She knew she might have to get nasty before he understood where she was coming from.

Easing back, he blinked. “Oh. I was with Koen. He needed me to keep him from donning dragonskin and murdering everything in sight.”

Perfect opening. She tugged a bleached warrior braid. “This is why I needed my own Second.”

“We have been through this.” Daniil withdrew his arms and propped his fists on his hips. He pointedly ignored Jakob’s presence. “Besides,” he said slickly borrowing once of her darling excuse words, “the male you wish to be your Second was not at your side, was he?”

“He wasn’t. In his defence, Jakob wasn’t oath sworn to me then like he is now.” Toothily, Marina smiled. “I doubt I’ll have that problem again.” She arched a brow at the mutinous glower that distorted his handsome features at the news. “Viktor and Uncle Sevastyan took care of me.” Her voice softened when he remained pissed, but she finished what she started. “So well, that from now on Jakob and Uncle will lead on all Aver related business. Their combined effort will be a real help to me.”

Daniil took an unconscious step back. His eyes glimmered with regret. “Marina, I understand I failed you by not being here. It will not happen again.”

“We’ve had this conversation. I cannot and do not expect you to do everything for me when your responsibility is to Koen. You’re only one male, Dani.” She clasped his arm, tugged him back, and drew him down beside her. “Do you remember what you told me back in the human dimension? I argued Koen Raad was my mate and that you had to take me along. You said that if Koen was resolved against me going that you wouldn’t go against his wishes and hurt him. I’ve never forgotten that under it all your loyalty is to him. You weren’t there for me today because you were fulfilling your duty to your overlord. I can’t monopolize your time, and I can’t afford to be left standing cold and wet with no support because you’re too busy to be there. Understand?”

His mouth opened then closed with a snap.

“Please don’t be upset.” She touched his shoulder timidly. He sat rigid rather than relaxed as usual. She didn’t want to hurt his feelings. “You’re still my trainer and a confidante. You’re family.”

Daniil tried for levity but his smile reflected the aching sadness he carried inside.

Underneath the pleasant façade, he knew she used this to force distance between them.

He wasn’t ignorant of the fact it was needed.

“Then as your trainer,” he said, “I beg you return to the Citadel and rest. The Eldernmoot and their Battle Mage guard approach the Kingdom boundaries. They will be here at daybreak. I would have you safe inside the fortress by then.”

“I will be. Besides, I have Prokopiy coming for breakfast. Will you be joining us? It’d be good to see you before we greet the Desert People.”

Laughing, his brows lifted. “I will join you, but I advise you cease that way of thinking. There is no way Koen will allow you within yelling distance of this gathering.”

“We’ll see. Is Boy lurking nearby?” She was unashamedly hopeful.

“He was with Koen until news came of Anastasia crossing the finish. He simply said you were fine then disappeared as he does.” Daniil shrugged. “Naturally Koen became diverted by news of the lagoon being frozen.” His searching look was intense. “Care to explain?”

Her heart sank at the news Boy was off again. So many problems, she thought, and so little time to solve them. “Just a little magick.”

“Ah.”

Jakob and the Ryu males proudly escorted her back to the Red Citadel.

The journey was loaded with the unsaid.

Daniil had made a lame excuse and quit the marquee soon after Marina informed him Jakob was taking his place, and she had politely yet firmly refused to speak more of what happened during the second quest.

She begged to be taken back to the Ryu apartments so that she might rest and be ready for the delegation coming to discuss why they sent warriors to abduct her.

The more Marina thought about it, the more she was convinced they had been looking for answers about her adopted son. Especially considering what Elder Khan had told her of Boy’s parentage.

She swiftly excused herself when they entered the cosy main room, and shut herself away in the lovely chamber Sevastyan insisted she have.

Alone at last, she spent a shocking amount of time staring agog at the wall, allowing the full impact of what happened to filter through now she was assured complete privacy behind a locked door.

The longer she remained still and silent the greater the restless feeling within her grew.

Marina prodded at the bundle of raw emotion lodged deep within.

The slumbering presence rumbled dangerously, stirred uneasily.

Shuddering, she rubbed her prickling arms. Gathering her courage she aimed another prod at the nameless entity.

It clawed her back.

She felt a distinct sense it was pleased she finally acknowledged its existence.

Unlocking the cage in her mind, she eased the door open, giving the creature a little leeway to stretch its legs.

Her eyes burned.

Her hands flew to her face then jerked away at the scorching heat pouring from her eye sockets.

Running to the polished circle of bronze mounted on the stone wall that acted as a mirror, she drew so close her nose pressed onto the cold metal and peered into her own eyes.

As she watched her pupils wobbled then contracted to oval slits. The rounds of her irises expanded until they blotted out the whites of her eyes completely.

A queer tingling raced up and down her body, and her heart pounded erratically. Her chest rose and fell steeply as she gasped for breath. Sweat slicked her nape and dampened her palms. Her skin felt too tight, ready to split and peel. Intense heat poured from her head, and her throat burned as she coughed wispy curls of dark grey smoke.

Her mind grew hazy, and there were less conscious thoughts. A primeval rhythm of growls and hisses echoed in her ears.

A single knock on the door had her squealing, and jumping a foot in the air. Irritation shot through her hot and fast. Hadn’t she expressed a desire to be alone? When the feeling didn’t subside, but grew in ferocity she checked it, and forcibly pushed the overpowering emotion away.

Since when are you so senselessly aggressive?

Running a shaky hand through her messy hair, she decided suffering in silence wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. As she crossed the room, a terrible rage descended upon her at the thought of her territory being invaded.

She flung it open only to succumb to heart-wrenching relief.

Marina grabbed the hem of Boy’s tunic and dragged him into the room.

Shutting the wooden door and sliding the rusted bolt home, she pressed her back against it.

They stared at each other.

Boy reached out a hand then retreated it, his expression wary. “Marina?”

“I have a secret,” she blurted. Of all the things she had to say to him, talking of her own problems seemed narcissistic, yet somehow it felt the right thing to do.

Boy blinked. Clearly this was not what he expected after avoiding her for so long. His small face was solemn. “As we all do.”

Sidetracked, his troubles truly never far from her mind, Marina’s brows plunged. “You keep a lot from me, don’t you?”

“I do not wish to hurt you.”

Rather than reply, she shuffled to the bed and crawled onto it. She sat forlornly in the middle and waited for him to join her.

“This secret has to do with Aver?” he asked.

Silent, she leaned over and lifted his scrawny legs onto the covers. Slipping his boots off, she tossed them into the corner with her own.

Mystified by this behaviour, yet sensing her need to tend to him, Boy let her arrange his legs comfortably on the bed, her face intense in its concentration. When she’d finished, she plucked at dried mud on his leathers.

“I suppose we could trade secrets. That would bring us closer, wouldn’t it?” Her hands stilled on his knees. “I want you to trust me as I trust you.” She peered at him past her lowered lashes, almost shy. “So here’s what I’ll do. I’ll trust you to tell me of your problems when you’re ready. Okay? I’ll keep Koen and everyone of your back until you’re ready to talk.”

He touched the back of her hand.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

“You can’t tell anyone what I’m about to show you.” She looked at him then, expression pained. “Not even Mikhail.”

Boy had heard they’d argued bitterly, knew it was the reason she moved them into the lower levels of the fortress.

His feelings were confused, and his loyalties tangled. He didn’t know about lying to the male who accepted him so readily, who made him feel like family.

“Grandfather will know I keep something from him.”

“Then I can’t tell you.” Marina slumped. She dry washed her face. “Maybe that’s for the best. You’d think I was crazy anyway.”

“No.” Eager to connect and reassure her, Boy pushed passed his own fears of closeness and scooted closer, allowed himself to feel comfortable with her in his personal space. “Tell me. If Grandfather asks I shall tell him another secret. I swear it.”

Marina plucked at her lip. She thrust her face into his.

Boy didn’t flinch. He was coming to understand she’d rather die than harm him.

“Look at my eyes,” she said.

He did. They were lovely, the colour of rich mahogany. “I see nothing.”

“Keep watching.” Marina’s face creased in pain. “See it?”

As he watched, her irises glowed and her pupils lengthened into ovals the colour of onyx.

Startled, he jerked away and fell off the bed.

Trance of concentration broken by the noise, Marina blinked, her eyes not reverting back to normal, but remaining dual glittering slits.

Twisting her fingers into the coverlet, she waited for him to crawl back onto the bed.

Pale, he grabbed her head to tilt it toward the candlelight. “You have Dragon eyes.”

“And blue blood.”

“Like Grandfather.”

She murmured, “Well, like Dragons.”

“How?” he breathed. He let her go and settled on his bottom. He wrapped his arms around his knees. “How did you do that? Did Elder Khan teach you magick?”

“He was a Battle Mage a long time ago,” she reminded. “He’s a healer now. Remember the people here will fear him, and shun him if they think he’s a warrior, and a threat.” She studied him carefully, making sure her warning got through. “No one taught me magick. Apart from you and the Dragon Lords, I don’t know anybody who uses magick.”

Boy paled. “I–I am not–”

She patted his knee and chose not to reveal she could feel the swirls of power surrounding him. “I know. That thing you do with your dagger, making it disappear into thin air, is just a trick, right?” She winked. “Remember, until you’re ready.”

Boy swallowed and his gaze drifted away from her as his face tinged with colour. “Yes.” After a diffident breather, he looked confused and a little hurt. “But why? I know the Mages are coming and I thought you would,” he fidgeted, uncomfortable, “force me to tell you about what I can do.”

“Do you want to go with them if they’re here for you?” she asked briskly. “And I say if.”

Swallowing, he shook his head.

“Then you stay here – with me. Nothing they say, or give in trade, could ever make me give you up. Not only do you have me, Koen wouldn’t let it happen.” She paused. “Remember we’re assuming the Eldernmoot are here because of you. They might not be.”

He looked wholeheartedly relieved as his gaze dropped. His grip on his knees loosened. “How did you set the spear on fire if you have not been taught battle magick?”

Thinking back to the ice wolves, Marina cringed.

Shrugged.

“Have you not spoken to Lord Kol? He is your trainer.”

“I only saw the blue blood for a split second. Then I fainted. I thought it was a hallucination from blood loss. Elder Khan said nothing about my blood looking strange when he tended me.” Her shoulders jerked helplessly. “I thought I imagined it.”

He pointed to his face. “Your eyes?”

“I figured out I could do that about five seconds before I dragged you into this room.”

She omitted explaining about the homicidal, lusty voice in her head. He was a child after all.

Boy exhaled shakily. “We need help. I know you are fighting, but tell Grandfather. He will know what to do.”

She softened the immediate and violent response from the otherness to a sharp headshake. “He’s on the Dragon Council. This will be the kind of thing he is not allowed to keep from them, long lost daughter or not.”

“Lord Kol then.”

“You can call him Daniil, you know.”

“He does not like me.”

She tossed him a sharp look.

There had been times Daniil’s thoughts and attitude toward her son had been less than affectionate, but he’d never said or done anything within earshot of the child to prompt such a statement.

Had he?

“Why do you say that?” At his refusal to answer, she used a finger to tip his chin up. His eyes slid from hers. “Boy?”

He shrugged.

Letting it go, she waved away the idea of speaking to Daniil. “He’s already up my butt about how I behave around Koen Raad. He’ll lose the plot if he thinks something odd will happen to distract me during a quest. He’ll tell Koen, who will completely freak out, and probably try hiding me in a cave somewhere surrounded by a lava moat.”

“Maybe that is the right thing.” He cast her a worried glance. “We do not know what is happening to you.”

Marina itched her arm.

Say it.

Speak aloud just once.

“I think....” Her head lowered. She confessed in a choked rush, “I think I might be a Dragon.”

Boy stared, aghast. “There are no Dragon Ladies. Only Dragon Lords.”

“There are female wild ones,” she pointed out hoarsely, desperate to make sense of it.

“This is not possible.”

“Why?”

Boy swept out an arm. “There have been no others.”

Marina knew then whom she had to talk to. History recorded two previous High Princess before her, female offspring of Phoenixes.

A memory surfaced of when she first came to Tzion and met the Dragon Council.

She smiled grimly. “See, I don’t think that’s quite accurate.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Banging on the door interrupted them.

Marina scowled, about to ignore it, but....

Harder, louder knocks.

The otherness was aware, but in no way aggressive. It became excited.

Even if that hadn’t told her who was the owner of the knock, the way the door rattled on its rusted hinges did.

Boy warily eyed the shaking wood. “Shall I–”

Sighing, Marina rolled off the bed.

She tossed Boy his boots.

Letting her rump hit the mattress, she tugged on her own, stomped them on the floor to adjust the fit then smiled ruefully as she ruffled Boy’s hair.

The golden spirals were silk beneath her palms. Rather than shove her away he sat docilely under her petting. It was a satisfying moment they both found pleasant in different ways.

Marina tended to her son as much as he would let her. She wished he would close the distance between them and tell her what was going on his head, so she could support him. He had to learn to come to her with his problems. She couldn’t always be there to drag it out of him, nor did she want him to be so dependant in this often-heartless society.

The knocks became steady thumps interspersed with pissed off growls.

“Peace and privacy,” Marina muttered, “should be currency in this world.”

Pushing onto her feet, she winked over her shoulder at her son who rose to cloak himself within the shadowy umbra.

Mind briefly flittering over gloomy thoughts of Kings, Queens, Dragon Lords and Ladies, she dragged back the locked bolt.

Koen’s closed fist shot through the open door to clamp down on her throat. “Ice? Jakob?” His voice was inhuman, an animalistic snarl edged with such menace he barely articulated. “Truly, female?”

Surprisingly, he wasn’t unclothed considering the raw heat pouring from his flesh telling her he’d shifted from Dragon moments ago.

Spicy, masculine scent spangled across her senses.

He wore a swathe of leather slung around his narrow hips, and his immense chest was naked, scarred, and tanned until it resembled hammered bronze.

Her gaze raked down his wide shoulders, skated hungrily over rigid abdominals, and lingered at the evidence of emotional arousal bleeding into a hard, jutting physical need.

The otherness coiled for attack. Go for the throat, it urged as it wound itself tighter around her primal core, tendrils of its spirit weaving and connecting with dormant branches of her psyche. Take him inside.

Shaking off the desire to fight this male for dominance – the first inclination of how savage that battle would be scaring the shit out of her – Marina softened under the domineering grip.

His fingers flexed, dangerously gentle but firmly pressing, warning her not to push.

Paradoxically, she felt frightened and exhilarated.

Moving steadily, vigilant his predatory gaze tracked everything she was, from emotion, to movement, to scent, she placed her palm on the side of his neck, right over his throbbing pulse, a subtler, but just as proprietary touch.

“Are you going to calm for me, so we can talk?” she asked.

The main room was filled with their people – all conspicuously staying beyond the immediate reach of the Dragon King’s wrath.

“Or is your plan to bellow incoherently and make my headache worse?”

Stiffening, Koen’s beast retreated. It remained very present in his gemstone eyes.

They glowed with banked flames.

“You will stay in my chamber now.” His voice was a low rasp. The Dragon’s growl had diminished, leaving behind a souvenir of possessive fury. “I will guard my Treasure day and night. No one will touch but me.” He drew in a long breath, filling up on her. “No one will speak to you or look at you. All mine.”

This was nothing but an instinctive reaction to the stress she’d put on his usually imperturbable nerves. He was defaulting to dealing with her the only other way he knew – forcing complete submission.

Had he come at her with the same fever-bright intensity directly after the quest, she might’ve let the otherness take over.

It would have been a pointless brawl where he’d try pining her to slake his lust as she tried ripping his beautiful bastard face off.

But she’d had time to sleep, time to think.

All Koen needed was to hold her and realise she was safe. Feeling the solidarity of their love would ground him. His beast would be purring in the end and trying – as a respectable male would – to get in her pants and prove he was capable of loving her so fiercely she’d struggle to walk straight.

“Is there an alternate option?” she asked silkily.

Her soft acquiesce and gentle teasing worked.

He calmed, gained control.

Adjusting his hold so it was a rough caress sliding down her throat to boldly cup her breast, Koen pressed closer and pinned her to the doorframe.

He nodded, stiff, hectic colour brightening his rugged face.

Eyes smiling, her resistance melted and she wrapped an arm around his waist. Though highly sexed, he was actually being amicable if he’d originally considered more than the option of imprisoning her his room – much like gold locked in a vault.

She dared rub her thighs on his deliciously hard ones. “Are you going to tell me?”

“You are so little.” The words were uttered in a threatening, feral way that made the hair on her arms rise. “I am stronger. I could grab you in my claws and take you to my lair. It is surrounded by jungle, rock and water. Prey does not escape.”

The sensible half of her thought this a witty part of his repartee. The wild half squirmed.

Trapped by the muscled length of intoxicating male, his primordial strength and animal cunning an overwhelmingly attractive lure, Marina’s scattered, lusty thoughts gathered into a tantalising conclusion.

He was dead serious.

Koen Raad loomed over her, head cocked with marauder curiosity, wondering if she’d try to flee, perversely desiring her to so he could run her down. His tilted eyes were emerald pools circling a monsoon heart sliced and twinned. “Mine forever.”

“How magnanimous. Must I choose?”

A jerky, self-satisfied nod revealed the sarcasm missed its mark. “Whichever pleases you more.”

Lost in his embrace, she gripped the boulder next to her hand, and realised it was the bicep of his arm blocking her exit. I am stronger. He could hold her up or pin her down as easy as breathing. Prey does not escape. Yet she knew the predator who caught her would slavishly worship her body for days.

Tongue adhered to the roof of her mouth she swallowed convulsively. Exerted a steady pressure with her body, a signal for him to set her free.

Koen received it and moved.

Closer.

Hot breath bathed her neck.

Breathing reedy, she let him nuzzle her hair. The smell of salt and sand told a tale of cooling off in the lagoon before hunting her down. His own peppery scent was mannish, its impact her a punch to the sternum, and he took an excruciating amount of time investigating the contours of her jaw, tracing the shape of her mouth.

Her lips parted when his raspy tongue stroked over her bottom lip.

Sharp teeth sank into it, hard, marking territory.

Air gushed from her lungs.

He was there to breath it in, cupping the back of her head, and tongue fucking her mouth. His hip thrust against hers and his other hand grabbed her butt and squeezed.

A voice demanded in outrage, “Why is he allowed to pin a female to the wall, and when I do it–”

A muted thump followed a bark of pain.

“Ow.”

The comment had Koen going preternaturally still. He hissed savagely then wrenched away. Grabbing her wrist, he stormed into the quietly crowded room pulling her with him, breathing choppy, cheeks slashed with feverish colour.

Dazed from the abrupt severance of mating sensation, Marina watched Boy slink into the room behind them.

Her face crumpled and heated, mortified to recall he’d been in her chamber, an intimate witness to her mauling by hungry, aroused male.

Then again it seemed pretty much everyone had seen it happen. None looked surprised – if anything relieved.

Marina realised Koen was sex starved.

His aggression and restlessness grew worse because he wasn’t able to take her when he needed. The rules of Aver limited their contact, forbidding him from openly claiming her as his own.

That brought on the question of who eased his needs before her.

And didn’t that cause an ugly emotion to rise up and choke the life out of her.

“Who were you with before me?” she asked. “And don’t even pretend to not understand what I’m asking.”

Scowling thunderously, Koen glared down his flared nose at her. A hint of male satisfaction glinted within the profound glittering of his irises.

Jealousy grew spikes and twisted her guts. “I want names.”

He grunted.

Nikolai picked himself off the floor.

Stood glowering above him, Daniil shook out a red-knuckled fist. “Fool. He will rip out your heart for interrupting.”

Flippantly blowing air, rubbing his noggin, Nikolai headed straight for Marina, grinning like an idiot.

“No teasing,” she warned.

Arms spreading wide for a cuddle, he winked. “Not even I am dumb enough to push him that far right now.”

“Believable?” Daniil muttered. “I think not.”

Koen pushed her behind him. Snarled rabidly. “Do not wink at her. Touch her and I will break you.”

Cringing, Nikolai dropped his arms and spun on his heel. He simply walked back to the safe space he’d come from and sneered when Daniil complacently welcomed his return.

Marina peeked from her dusty corner, pushing at the wall deciding to ‘defend’ her from family and friends.

She smiled a greeting to all in attendance. “Shall we all keep a distance until Koen’s feeling more civil?”

Frantic nodding and mumbles of agreement met the query.

She massaged Koen’s tense shoulders. “Enough now.”

She loved him like crazy, but these people were not a threat. She wouldn’t accept him behaving so irrationally for longer than the circumstances necessitated.

It was difficult. Painful. She saw it in the harsh lines of his expression, the tight jerk of his usually hunting-beast smooth movements. He restrained his primal instincts and allowed her to roam without his quiet menace intimidating their people.

Marina didn’t push the limits of his control. She kept the congratulatory touches and hugs brief.

Seeing Mikhail, she didn’t get pissy, merely nodded thanks when his eyes gleamed as he told her what he’d seen at the lagoon made him proud.

Cathryn was absent.

Though she was curious and missed her friend, Marina couldn’t bring herself to ask Mikhail where she was.

Instead, she let Koen pull her onto his lap as he sat.

Jakob situated himself at a respectful distance down the bench, but he was closer than the rest, already proving he’d always be there to help.

The other males shifted restlessly, sipped watered wine from their goblets and eyed her with guileless interest.

Marina waited for it.

“So.” Brave Nikolai spoke first. “Those soft hands handle the powerful vigour of fire,” he shook his long arm ending in a fist, “as well as piddling pricks of ice.” The strong arm wilted and hung flaccidly.

The males in the room watched the limp hand hovering at the Dragon Lord’s groin with an infantile kind of revulsion.

Daniil’s eye twitched.

Resting his chin on her shoulder, Koen heaved a blustery sigh, glaring balefully at his younger brother.

Grumbled, “One day he actually might kill him.”

“No might about it.” Daniil propped a fist on his hip, trawled a clawed hand through his mane of blonde locks and bleached warrior braids. The look he shot his overlord smouldered. “Try inevitable.”

“Whatever are you about, Dani?” Nikolai leered even as his eyes widened with innocence. “Why would the mention of a piddling prick of ice inspire such frustration and anger and–Ah.” His eyes dropped then shot up, face crumpling in the perfect mix of awkwardness and pity. “There is no shame amongst friends. Do not let my unintentional double–entendre cut so deeply.”

“Brat!”

“Since I don’t see this exchange ending well,” Marina said, interrupting the room-wide snickering, “I’m going to intervene and....” She trailed off to watch Daniil stalk the youngest Raad as he raced around the room cackling.

Shaking her head she met Sevastyan’s kind, laughing eyes. She smiled then looked at the rest of them, happy to see them mingling and getting along.

Nikolai squealed.

Well, sort of getting along.

“In answer to less offensive interpretation of the question,” she yelled over the pitched wails from across the room. “Yes. I control both magical elements of fire and ice.”

Daniil halted, letting the tail of Nikolai’s mowhawk – which he had wrapped around his fist, the male’s neck, and was using as a rope to choke-drag him towards the door – uncoil and slip through his fingers. “When did you learn?”

“It came naturally,” Jakob replied, sensing her hesitance and knowing she had her reasons.

Reasons she’d half explained to him though he had no notion of the end conclusion. But he trusted her and would defend her until she was ready to reveal her secrets.

Face tightening, Daniil clearly wanted to ignore him. “Rare. So not unexpected when it comes to our Princess.”

“What we should be talking about is the Mages.” Marina shifted on Koen’s lap to half face him and half keep herself open to the room. She looped an arm around his thick neck. “They’re here?”

Sphinx-like, he considered at her with a coolly distant gaze that still managed to convey possession. His deeply gruff voice was unreadable. “Two of the Eldernmoot have arrived as a delegation on behalf of the Desert People to meet with me, yes.”

“What are we going to say?”

“I am going to ask they explain why a brigade of Battle Mages attacked me in my territory to steal my Treasure.”

“And what if they’re not forthcoming?”

“Should they be evasive I am going to remind them not to cross our borders on pain of directly offending the Dragon King, which consequently may lead to a war that would devastate both our peoples.”

“Koen–”

He clasped her chin. Met her gaze and held it captive. “You are not setting a toe inside that hall.”

“Be reasonable.” Spine rigid, her hands balled into fists. “You know this is going to be about Boy.”

“You have an oath-sworn vassal you can command to attend. Jakob will report back to you.”

He wasn’t even smug about using the very Second she’d fought tooth and nail for against her. That equally aggravated and worried her, because he wasn’t just being overprotective.

He genuinely thought she couldn’t handle being presented to the Eldernmoot.

Was it because he thought she might ruin the political chinwag, or some other reason centered on her protection?

Perhaps sparing her emotions if things turned badly?

“It’s not the same.” She kept her voice calm. To blow up would cement his opinion she was too volatile to attend. “I want to see their expression and hear their voices. Second hand information could miss out crucial details.” She held up a querulous finger in Daniil’s direction when she heard him shift to speak. “That is not a comment on Jak’s abilities, so don’t even.”

“I do not care what you say. My will is final.” Koen played with the whorls of hair curled around the shell of her ear. “You are not going.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

There were less people present than she expected. Marina hesitated as she passed over the threshold, causing Jakob to cast her a questioning look. She waved him away and continued towards the circle of seats arranged in the middle of the room.

She’d argued fiercely to be included in this meeting, and there was no backing out now. She’d envisioned a huge assembly of grandly dressed men milling about the hall arguing over her poor son who’d been set in the middle like a prize.

It was considerably less grand that that.

The Eldermon did not only wear brands on their cheeks, but between their dark eyebrows and on the backs of both hands.

Their tagelmusts were snowy white, and intricate leather braids were woven into the complicated wrappings, dangled around their faces and necks. Dreadlocks bound in string and bone rings cascaded down their backs to their waists.

They sat cross-legged on meditation stools with their arms folded on their middles.

Their eyes were deceptively heavy-lidded.

Marina could see the manipulative calculation behind the sleepy façade.

Within the first hour her wonder evaporated into trepidation.

The Eldernmoot representatives Shukri and Murtada were straightforward with their demands. They admitted the party of Battle Mages that crossed the borders was sent at their command to discover if the Fire Kingdom had broken the treaty.

“It is our belief you abducted the Grand Mage’s sole heir,” Shukri said tightly.

“We didn’t steal Boy,” Marina protested. “I found him.” She hesitated so slightly over the lie only Koen Raad betrayed recognition of it by infinitesimally shifting. “He was without a protector and something inside me told me to adopt him. So I did.”

The wizened old man who held the floor dragged his glacial gaze over her. The corners of his mouth curled in contempt. “His name is Grand Prince Ryuk Noor, heir apparent to Grand Mage Rykiel Noor. We are on the brink of civil war because the chain of succession was broken.”

“You sound accusing,” Koen interjected. “As if we planned this.”

Shukri’s look was dark, mirrored on the face of his fellow Eldermon. “Did you not?”

“You’re talking rubbish,” Marina said, barely keeping her voice from shaking. “You threw him away. I know exactly why too. Elder Khan told me.” She nodded when the Mages stiffened at the name. “Now it’s convenient for your plans you want him back. Well you can’t have him. Ever.” She leaned forward and held his stony gaze. She purposefully enunciated her next word. It rumbled from deep within her as her eyes flashed. “Mine.”

Disquieted by her aggression, the old man averted his eyes. “We did not throw him away. The child vanished.”

“Boy doesn’t even remember any of this. All he knows is that he’s been a slave since birth until I found him. Surely he’d remember being a royal of his homeland.”

Shukri waved a wrinkled hand to indicate his surroundings. His whole demeanour was condescending. “He does not belong in this place. With these people.” He gave her a piercing look. Gripping the armrests, his sneer distorted his facial brands. “With you.”

“Kiss my ass.”

“Marina,” Koen barked.

Defiant, she shoved deeper into her seat and flung him a look of reprisal. She thought his rebuke overcautious, but understood he needed this meeting to remain peaceable, which is why she hadn’t pointed south and told him to kiss it too.

Koen followed the verbal reprisal with a look of severe warning.

Marina reluctantly heeded it.

She had no intention of being escorted from the room before she’d guaranteed Boy was to stay with her.

The Regent observed the gathering with thinned lips. His eyes travelled over the assembly then unfocused, indecisive or merely thoughtful.

Whatever thoughts muddled his mind had his body slouching deeper into his chair.

Myron finally sighed, rubbing his face.

The move disturbed Marina.

It smacked of surrender.

“What is it you want, Eldermen?” he asked.

“Prince Ryuk returned to us,” Shukri answered. “We shall restore him to the people and maintain peace.” His manner took on a benevolent slant. “The munificence of the Dragon Courts to our future leader will not be forgotten nor overlooked.”

The certainty with which he spoke rubbed her wrong. They hadn’t agreed to anything yet he acted Boy was all but packed.

Flushed with anger, Marina fidgeted in her seat. She shot a pleading look at Koen Raad.

He’d yet to speak against what the Eldernmoot demanded.

Holding up a palm, he bid her to hold her tongue.

His features were dark with emotion, but his eyes were clear and sharp with purpose. “As much as your words please me, I find myself in the untenable position of risking your ire. Considering the nature of the abuse the youngling suffered when found and the dangerous political uprising within Wasteland the borders, I am not convinced it is safe to allow you to leave with him.”

“It is perfectly safe,” Shukri said composedly. His eyes betrayed him. “Your concern for one of us is ... touching. Regardless of recent events, Ryuk is not born of your domain. Your protection does not extend to him.”

“Boy was legally adopted by High Princess Marina, my mate, and is now a citizen of the Dragon Lands, entirely within the realms of its protection,” Koen’s deep voice filled the room and echoed off the walls. “Do you heed me? He has been claimed as my mate’s offspring. He is my offspring. I do not see how you can sit before me and demand his return after what transpired here in this very Citadel was so shameful, the full story was not made known to avoid a public outcry.”

Adjusting his crossed legs, Shukri frowned. “We did not abuse the child. He was taken.”

“We were not made aware of a missing Prince,” Daniil said, shrewdly taking their measure. “We would have searched our own territory to restore him to you. Such an important dignitary would have been brought to my attention. As the Dragon King’s Second, I would have personally led the search.”

The Eldermon’s jaw tightened. “At the time of his abduction no attempt to recover him was made. We know not how he came here.” His expression turned suspicious. “It was reasoned Dragon Lord’s took him. So as to hold leverage over us at a later date.”

“No search was made?” the Regent repeated, incredulous at the callous disregard of an innocent.

Realising he made an error, Eldermon Shukri simply inclined his head.

Koen stared at the man. He uttered the question Marina was dying to have answered. “Why?”

“He was a bastard. Traditionally they are not part of the royal enclave.” Eldermon Murtada, a softer spoken, younger man answered when the other balked. He shrugged when Shukri cast him an irate look. Clearly he was the ‘rebel’ of the pair. “That has changed.”

Koen smoothed a finger over his upper lip. He didn’t succeed in hiding his repugnance. “I see.”

Marina had less reason to be diplomatic. “I sure as hell don’t.” Her leg flailed above the floor as she tried stomping it. The throne Koen had set her on was damn high.

Jakob slid a footstool under her dangling foot.

He nodded in a final show of support then returned to his sentinel position behind her chair, feet braced, hands clasped behind his back.

Calmer, she met Koen’s annoyed gaze. “They don’t get to dehumanize him then turn up one day claiming we’ve robbed them of something precious. They refused to acknowledge his worth when he was a baby. They’ve admitted they didn’t care enough to even look when he went missing.” She glared angrily across the circle of men. “You want to take him from his home into danger. How is ripping him from people who actually care about him going to do any good in healing the emotional scars he bears from his slavery?

“Bastard he may be, but royal blood runs in his veins,” Shukri said.

She huffed. There were Kings and Queens abound in this land. They could rustle up another and get lost. “Your point?”

“He will bear the burden. He was born to.” He gave her a pointed look. “Just as you were born a Princess bound to become Queen, to mate the Dragon King. It is his destiny.”

“No.” Her hand sliced the air sharply. “None of that. You won’t sit there and defend tearing a damaged child from his family to fulfil a ‘destiny’ you openly admit he wasn’t eligible to claim until you had no other choice.” Her hands balled into fists on her lap. “This civil war you worry over, I’m guessing a hard-nosed military man with some claim to the throne, no matter how tenuous, is driving it. Am I right?”

“Battle Lord Zaki married Rykiel’s sister,” Murtada admitted. “He has no royal blood. Prince Ryuk is the only Noor left.”

Marina didn’t care. “Battle Lord Zaki. And when he is told of the Grand Prince’s return he’s just going to step aside. Give my son a helping hand in asserting his rule?”

The Eldermen looked uncomfortable.

“You don’t look like fools,” she said stiffly, “but I’ve been wrong before.”

Shukri stirred, contrite even as he argued his position. “You would deny him his birthright?”

“I want him to have the best chance of a long, happy life. I won’t hand him over so you can throw him into a pit with a viper hoping he comes out unscathed.” She looked at Koen. “That is unacceptable.”

His fleeting smile was replaced with feral cunning.

“That is what your people do to you during this barbaric tournament. In the most literal sense.” Murtada gave her a knowing look. He along with the rest began to understand she tried to protect Boy from what she herself suffered. “We merely seek to restore what he’s owed.”

“We should not even be discussing this,” Shukri raged, again on the offensive. “The Prince belongs with his people. We do not have to explain our motivations.”

She ignored the antagonistic Eldermon, and focused on Murtada. He seemed willing to consider points of view beyond his own. “I’ve chosen to enter Aver of my own free will. You’re not giving Boy a choice. He wants to stay with me.” If he’d wanted to go with these men Boy would have made his will known when she’d asked.

“Ryuk is of royal blood,” Shukri said. “There is no choice.”

Murtada nodded slowly in agreement to these words. “For one such as he there is only destiny.”

Marina pushed back. “Return in a decade when he’s an adult. I vow he will be prepared to take the responsibility of leadership.”

“By then it will be too late,” Shukri said. “Our people will be under the rule of a tyrant.”

“Eight years then,” Marina grated, grimacing at their expressions of refusal.

It upset her she’d been reduced to bargaining for years as if Boy were nothing more than chattel. This was very kind of treatment she fought to free him and others like him from.

It rankled she’d been cornered this way, but these people weren’t letting this go, and she could see the Dragon Lords were becoming anxious and confused at Koen’s resistance.

“He’ll be eighteen. Then if he wants to go and challenge Battle Lord Zaki he can. Until then my answer is no.”

“It is not up to you,” Shukri spat.

“I’m his mother.” Fear her legal maternity wouldn’t be enough to keep him safe tore through her. “I understand the concept of adoption is a foreign one to this world, but I grew up in a place where it means the making of life altering decisions for a minor, like, oh, I don’t know, going to war with a bloodthirsty tyrant, happens here.” She tapped her chest. “He’s too young to fully understand the dangers. He isn’t trained to oppose a battle-hardened warrior. You would be leading him and any who followed to slaughter. We will have no part of it.” She knew in her heart though they were estranged, Mikhail and those sworn to him would fight with her. Maybe even House Ryu would stand. “You won’t take him as long as there is breath left in my body.”

“You care for him? For a Barren One?” Shukri sneered at the derogatory name.

“I love him. He is my son.” She met their cynical gazes. Her own became demanding. “Why refuse to acknowledge it?”

Holding out a hand to halt Shukri’s next remark, Murtada clucked, thoughtful. “Son you call him. You know him so well?” His bushy eyebrow rose. “If you truly knew what he was capable of, the destruction hidden within in his blood, I believe you would hand him over freely.”

In a flash she recalled the oppressive darkness that followed Boy around in a suffocating cloud. His aura was a dark one, but it wasn’t malevolent, or to be feared as Murtada insinuated.

Scoffing derisively, Marina returned her attention to Koen.

His brow furrowed deeply as Daniil whispered frantically into his ear.

When his gaze clashed with hers it was conflicted. “Treasure–”

The hairs on her arms lifted at the regret underlying the endearment. “He’s ours Koen. Ours.”

Without expression, Koen Raad looked at the Regent.

Myron shook his head, sadly.

Mikhail merely watched, as he had the whole time, but his expression left her in no doubt they’d suffer the fight of their lives for his grandchild.

Marina wondered just how ugly this would get.

“We must discuss this,” Koen said. “A decision such as this, one that affects my lands, my family and me personally, is one I must think on.” He stood and strode towards Marina. “Eldermen, I ask you to remain within the Citadel. Apartments have been made ready.”

“Halt.” Shukri rose to complain at his back. “There is nothing to discuss.” Slashes of colour highlighted the hollows of his cheeks as his anger heightened. “You will return our Prince or there will be consequences.”

Koen went hunter-quiet, predator-still. His aura blackened, and his eyes flashed with a muted glow.

He slowly turned and stabbed the man with a look that could wither the strongest of warriors. “Do you mean to give me orders and to threaten me?” His voice escaped as a profound rumble echoing a growl from his Dragon. “In my own territory?”

Paling, Murtada groped blindly for his fellow Elder’s tunic. Clasping a hold he yanked Shukri back into his seat.

“I am merely being practical.” Tugging free of Murtada, the Eldermon refused to recant. “You insult us by saying we abuse children, and refuse to return to our rightful heir. You have broken the treaty and incite war.”

Koen managed to loom over the assembly from where he stood. “It was not us who sent a youngling to assassinate a returned Princess of Tzion.”

Gasps of outrage ripped through the gathering.

At this coldly announced fact, Daniil inhaled sharply, his expression wrathful.

Myron released a blustery sigh.

Not shocked his Lady adopted her assassin, Jakob quirked a brow. He accepted it as part of what made her special, and inched closer to her chair to offer more protection.

Eldermon Shukri turned red.

Flustered, he turned in his seat to look desperately at the regiment of Battle Mages who eyed the Dragon King warily, but made no move to defend the honour of their people.

“How dare you,” Murtada stuttered. “We come here to reclaim what you took. You accuse us of sending him here? To murder.”

“Boy was found by Marina in her chamber,” Koen said. “He was sent to kill her. He confessed all to me. You now tell us that the boy is not a nameless slave, but a royal.” His voice was ruthless, cutting. “No, you tell me he is the heir of a man we fought with bitterly for decades. Tell me, Eldermon, what conclusion should I draw?”

It was difficult to keep her face composed. Marina knew Koen understood it was Katya Ja who’d ordered Boy to kill her, not the Mages, so what was he doing?

“Ryuk was missing for over eight years. It was not us.” Murtada stated this firmly, meeting everyone’s gaze.

He realised they were now on the defensive.

The Dragon King was far more cunning than he appeared.

Behind the curtain the Eldernmoot considered the male a brutish creature ruled by instinct. The original peace treaty had been agreed without much open inference on his part.

Murtada now wondered if the Mages perception of the beast male was true. The King’s advisor, Lord Kol, was well known to them and considered skilful in arbitration. Such a male would not display unfailing respect for his liege if he were devoid of political guile.

This encounter proved Koen Raad was not only a warlord. He was a shrewd adversary well versed in oblique negotiation.

“It was not us,” he repeated. “I think you know this. We would never send one with royal blood. Bastard or not.”

Sniffing, Koen retook his seat, mightily displeased to do so.

The move to end the meeting had not taken.

He propped an elbow on the armrest and waved his hand, dismissing the rationalization as weak. “You said yourself the Wastelands are at the brink of civil war. How do I know your Battle Lord did not organize this attack upon my Treasure? Perhaps he sought to solve two problems. Had Boy succeeded in his mission he would be dead either by my hand or yours when I demanded it in vengeance.”

The Eldermen shared a look of dismay.

This was not what they expected, and the unexpected was not welcome to these erudite men.

“More discussion is needed,” Shukri said grudgingly. Frustration was the predominant emotion in his throaty voice. “We shall reconvene–”

“Next week this same day.” Koen motioned for Daniil to note it on the political stones. He was not about to be ordered about in his own throne room. “Until then you will enjoy the diversions between the quests of Aver.”

The Eldermen railed against that proclamation.

“Too long,” Shukri said. “What possibly do you have to discuss?” He went rigid, the bones in his dreadlocks knocking together. “Unless you mean to waylay us and secret Ryuk away.”

“The child should be held under supervision of both delegations,” Murtada said quickly when the Dragon Lords growled in offence. “It is impartial and ensures both sides remain sincere.”

“You dishonour us by inferring we should do such a thing,” the Regent said harshly.

“We will not underestimate the declarations heard here today.” As he spoke, Shukri slid a suspicious look at Marina.

Slighted on her behalf, Koen snarled.

“It’s okay,” Marina soothed, fully aware getting a hold of her son was akin to finding a rainbow and holding smoke. “If it helps them trust us let them anoint him with an honour guard. Dragon Lords eager to do our bidding surround them, after all. Such assurances tend to lessen needless fears.”

“We are not afraid,” Shukri protested.

Marina’s lips curved. It wasn’t a nice smile. “Never said you were.”

The smell of baked bread and grilled fish filled the midday air.

Stomach’s rumbling, perturbed by the morning’s work, the wearied Dragon Lords traipsed towards the winding passage leading to the lower Citadel levels.

Grabbing Marina’s wrist, Koen gave a sharp command.

They sighed. Turned and followed as the Dragon King shifted to scale the outside of the Citadel, a ranting Princess held tightly in his claws.

Entering his chamber, Koen dropped Marina onto the rumpled covers of his bed then reclined regally. His serpentine neck drew back and his snout lowered.

Intrigued by the room she’d never seen, Marina craned her neck.

The room was opulently furnished, the wood heavy and dark, the fabrics in shades of black and green. Odd items scattered amongst the furnishings stood out against the opulence.

A boulder eroded and covered with claw marks sat by the shoulder-high fireplace. Was it a scratching post? A chunk of driftwood barred the decorated entrance screen. That was less confusing. Koen liked privacy.

Marina blinked and her lips trembled with a smile.

In the centre of the room mounted on a stone pillar was the fulgurite she’d unearthed from the black sands.

It touched her he thought so much of the gift.

Remembering she was angry, she sat. “Why haven’t you sent them away? Why are you pretending anything they say will make us give Boy up?”

Silent, Koen regarded her, unblinking.

‘Assassin?’ Daniil boomed as he followed them into the room. In dragonskin, his voice lost none of its haughtiness. “You adopted your assassin? Are you mad?”

Annoyed at the interruption, Marina threw him a disgruntled look. “This is why I didn’t tell you.”

Tossing his head, Daniil glared at his King. ‘And you let her do this thing?’

Koen closed his eyes and snorted.

Jakob and Mikhail followed them into the room.

After checking she was okay, Jakob proclaimed the assembly a failure. Mikhail launched into a growling sermon applauding Koen’s stalling tactic then damned his hesitation in refusing their irrational demands. This Daniil took great insult to, revealing he counselled the King not to turn them down outright, as they could not afford a war campaign during Aver. Marina marched to stand in the middle of them all and yell at anyone who came close to suggesting Boy be handed over, which meant she spent most of her time shouting nose to snout with Daniil. Jakob once again mentioned the talks were doomed to failure, and the argument began all over again. The three Dragons and the livid female between them argued until the walls shook with the power of their voices. The heavy stomps of their claws and the occasional shrill screech from Marina as she futility kicked a thick sapphire hide was maddening.

‘Enough.’ Head aching, Koen joined the argument. ‘If our people saw four of their most powerful leaders at this moment they would despair.’ Luminous green eyes cracked open, truly exasperated. ‘We have time to think on what has been said here today and come to an agreement with the Eldernmoot. We must.’

‘Agreed,’ Mikhail rumbled loftily.

His tone and manner was smug, as if he hadn’t been reduced to yelling empty threats at his obstinate offspring, and had argued the power of debate over violence from the start.

Daniil gnashed his fangs. ‘They have come for one reason and one reason alone – to reclaim their lost Prince. Exactly what is there to think about? Give them what is rightfully theirs.’

Marina nearly bit her tongue in half repressing a string of profanities.

Koen watched his Treasure slowly exhale. Her beautiful eyes reflected the fires of her conviction.

Daniil, he thought, is a fool.

“I can see why you’d think that was the answer.” Marina held up a beseeching palm that closed into a fist. It thumped her breast, an aggressive demand for appeasement that ended in defiance. “Under no circumstances will I willingly give up my son. I will fight anyone who tries to take him from me.” She speared Daniil with a look Koen never expected to see her direct at his Second. “Are you hearing me?”

‘You are not Queen yet,’ Daniil snarled.

“What exactly are you saying?” She rounded on him fully and threw up a hand to halt Jakob’s protective advance. “Watch my back. I don’t need coddling.”

Lowering his snout, eyes cool and distant, her Second moved aside. His tail thrashed. It was the sole indicator of his displeasure.

Koen Raad wasn’t sure if he was jealous or impressed how swiftly their relationship grew in strength.

Jakob intuitively understood Marina’s unconventional style of dealing with subordinates. She treated all as equals until the moment came when she demanded obedience.

Koen doubted she knew there were times refuting her was impossible. Because of her lack of arrogance, following her became a matter of great pride.

She would make a magnificent Queen.

Marina studied Daniil as if she’d never seen him before. Her expression clouded. “I want this cleared between us. Right now. The vibe I’m getting from you disturbs me.”

‘You alone cannot fight this,’ Daniil said, not unkindly. ‘The Dragon Council will vote in favour of peace.’

Jakob nudged her with his snout. ‘He is right. As Queen you would have the authority to oppose the Dragon Council. As Queen, only if the King sided with them could Boy legally be taken from you.’

‘But she is not Queen,’ Daniil pointed out. ‘And will not be for a fortnight at least. Koen Raad alone cannot oppose the Council in this. He needs another monarch to support his case.’

Marina gritted her teeth.

She knew Daniil fought for all the right reasons, but his determination to do the right thing had him disregarding the mitigating circumstances that made the suggestion of handing a child over to negligent guardians unthinkably cruel.

“I’m weeks away from becoming Queen. Until then the Regent–”

‘Myron cannot stand for you,’ Daniil interrupted. ‘He is the Regent of the Fire Kingdom.’

“So?”

‘You have declared yourself for the Wreath.’

‘You need Gavriil,’ Jakob said giving her the answer she sought. ‘He administers the Ice Realm.’

‘He cannot leave the land under his stewardship to pander to the whims of a woman who may not even be Queen.’

Tensing, Jakob rumbled uneasily.

Eyes narrowing, Mikhail stared with biting contempt.

Lifting his snout, Koen bared his teeth. Smoke poured from his throat and flames of anger slicked across his tongue.

For his Second to speak so callously of her failing was inexcusable.

‘Leave this room,’ he commanded.

Daniil snapped his jaws and spun. His tail lashed the wall as he climbed out the window and took to the sky. He climbed in altitude until he was lost to sight in the low clouds.

The tension in the room eased.

Marina stared at the window struggling to breathe. The words had been a slap in the face. Never had Daniil expressed anything but utter conviction that she’d be successful in her campaign.

Why was he acting this way? Was it because she hadn’t told him about how she met Boy? Or was it because she’d replaced him with Jakob. Marina thought she’d made her reasoning behind that clear, but maybe he was feeling rejected?

Koen’s warmth caressed her back.

Her eyes closed as he rubbed against her. “I don’t care how, but this can’t be allowed to happen. What do I do?” She hugged as much of his blocky head as physically possible. “What do we do?”

“Daniil is right.”

Devastated, she gazed up at him.

He nuzzled her tenderly, careful not to gouge her with his horns. “We do what we have been doing since you arrived. We make you mine.” Emerald eyes gleamed, cunning, witchy. “We make you Queen.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Awe was a sensation Marina expected when encountering the older Dragon Lords. In the presence of this ancient yet mighty Phoenix, her tongue knotted, and her heart pounded.

She began to understand why the people of Tzion made such a deal about honour.

She felt unworthy.

“Do you remember me?” she asked quietly, eyes respectfully downcast.

The purple Dragon’s eyes burned brightly, revealing a keen intelligence. A strong mind encased within a withering body. ‘So you have come. I remember an age when my human form sent maidens faint with pleasure. They would visit for the glory of my body alone, not for the thoughts my mind held.’ The old Dragon sighed wistfully. ‘They all wanted me. All desired me. None were worthy – only my Karina.’

Marina didn’t have time for him to sink into the abyss of his memories. The third quest commenced in the morning, and she needed sleep.

Koen’s idea to speed up the tournament was genius.

As Queen, she could defy the Council if they tried to hand Boy over.

For the first time, Marina gleaned what the Courts were up in arms about. She was treated differently from the other Chosen. The other two wouldn’t be able to command the Aver timeline altered. Nor did they have a King fighting in their corner. Her guilt was fleeting. She tried hard not to take advantage, and she wasn’t a bad person, merely a fortunate one.

With the Eldernmoot sent back to where they came from, she could focus her energies on ensuring the Drackai Queen didn’t succeed in her Hunt of Koen Raad before she did. They would come to some other arrangement with the Eldernmoot if they refused to leave. She didn’t want war, but sacrificing a child was out of the question. They would have to fight to take her son into a society on the brink of civil war.

The Dragon Kingdom was the safest place for him, and it was a strong enough argument not even the Eldermen could talk around it.

“Council Mon Leonid, Karina had a daughter, didn’t she. The last High Princess. Kayla, Council Mon Kazimir’s Treasure had the first.”

His amethyst eyes snapped into focus and fixed on her knowingly. ‘Solaria was a good daughter. She was so bright. Strong.’

“She was special.”

‘Indeed. As was Kazimir’s offspring.’ He looked at her slyly. ‘As is Mikhail’s.’

“If I may, how did she die? It’s been struck from the histories. Passages about them have been inked over.” She nervously rubbed her clammy hands on her thighs. “I understand why the idea of....” She struggled with it, and so rushed on. “The idea of a Dragon Lady is different, and different is almost always seen as scary, but why remove knowledge of it for future generations? I’ve been thinking I’m a freak. Now I find out I’m not as alone as I thought. There were others before me.”

‘The Dragon Council has a long memory. It was thought best if Tzion never knew of those females and the destruction they wrought. They were special. Damned because of it.’

Her stomach clenched. “They were evil?”

‘Our males are trained from birth to control the beast within.’ His voice trailed off. Shifting, he turned his horned head to face her. ‘Solaria would have black outs. Time she could not remember as something else took control. She would return to her chamber at night covered in ash and blood, or wake up in strange places. In mountain passes and caves with no memory of how she travelled so far.’ His breathing turned reedy and he hacked a cough. Settling, he shook his body, stippled scales gleaming dully. ‘It was not so bad, nor frightening. Sickness of the mind is not so uncommon that we did not know to be patient with her.’ He quieted and she felt his grief. ‘Then came Lord Polvic.’

“What happened?”

‘Solaria took an immediate dislike to how he watched her, vied for her affection. She was highly desired as a bride.’ He sighed sadly. ‘We found him disembowelled. A purple dragoness drenched in his blood shifted back into the unconscious form of my offspring.’ The Council Mon blinked back tears. ‘We kept it a secret, kept her safe.’

“Surely people would understand what happened? He must’ve done something ... tried to....” She refrained from saying the word ‘rape’ aloud.

There was no need to beleaguer this old male further, and he was no fool.

‘We decided to give her time to adjust. It was hard because when she shifted there was no memory of who she truly was. They were not one. Males learn how to be one with the otherness. Solaria’s beast had no deeper connection with humanity. It was a creature of pure instinct.’ His snout lowered. ‘So I kept her hidden. I worked with my offspring when she was herself trying to bring them together, so they may find peace.’

“Then why erase her as if she never existed?” Marina felt her own insecurities plaguing her. Would her family lock her away like some dirty secret if she grew too wild trying to come to terms with her creature side? “She was a miracle.”

‘Solaria shifted one night and slaughtered her guards. I tried to reach her before she wrought irreparable damage.’ Pain roughened his gravely voice. ‘She was taken down by a Dragon Lord who came across her terrorizing a peasant family. She had already killed the Sire. The Dragon Lord was able to save the younglings. I believe Solaria’s Dragon saw them as a territorial threat since they travelled our lands.’ He shifted uneasily. ‘Prior to her existence there was another who met a similar tragic end. The Council decided it was best if they were forgotten but in the memory of a select few. A Dragon Lady is not even a myth. The people simply believe it is not possible and since offspring of a Phoenix is so rare the secret has diminished into the deepest darkest memories of us ancients.’ His blocky head tilted. ‘Then you came.’

“If you knew this would happen why didn’t you tell me? I stood before you, all of you, and you said nothing.” It angered her they kept something so important from her. This was her life they messed with. Fury shot through her. “Mikahil–”

‘Does not know. Kazimir and I were Emperors of the earliest dynasties. The younger Council Mon are not aware. We saw no reason to tell them until we faded. None had offspring,’ his eyes cut to her, ‘that we knew about.’

Marina wandered in a daze. What the hell do I do? If she told Koen there will be no reasoning with him. The whole mess with Daniil made her set against going to him for help. My Second? Marina hesitated. Jakob was sworn to her, but if she told him would he feel beholden to tell his King because she threatened to go feral?

She had to finish Aver. Nothing could stand in the way of that.

She’d keep it a secret a little longer. The otherness wasn’t making her black out to control her like those other women. There was a day of rest between quests instead of a week. She’d gather her family and tell them after the forth quest was done.

They’d get through it together.

She ended up in the Courtyard and glanced about blindly.

“You look lost.” Anastasia waved her over. She sat on a grassy hummock sharpening her sword. The customarily unapproachable woman was dressed in a flowing robe the colour of rich wine. The artfully wrapped fabric accentuated her statuesque figure. Sun-coloured hair cascaded to her shapely waist making her look breathtakingly feminine, her features delicate, and her expression peaceful.

It was so unlike the angry warrior Marina expected, she stood rooted, astonished.

“Come,” Anastasia insisted. “Sit by me.”

Marina folded next to her in disorientated silence.

“You should be resting.” Anastasia admonished her without looking up from her task. She stopped, laughing prettily. “Are you tired of hearing that yet? Aleksandr says nothing else.” Her smile, blatantly mischievous, was filled with sisterly affection. “I admit I came here to aggravate him. Big brothers make it so easy. He was appointed my guardian when I was a girl, as Lord Nikolai is yours. I would hide from him for days. He would track me in dragonskin, but by then I had begun training. I would lay false trails into the mountains ending in lava pools and treacherous gullies, as if I’d had an accident. How he cursed me when I appeared hale during his panicked flight back to our territory.” Tittering, she returned to dotingly tending the arc of steel across her lap.

Marina was staggered to see the woman so relaxed. Trusting her with obviously precious memories from her past. “May I ask you something?”

“Ask.”

“Koen doesn’t like you because of how you behave during the Hunt.”

Lips compressing, Anastasia paused her labours. A voice forced even replied. “You seek to judge me?” The warrior emerged to protect the vulnerable woman within.

“I want to understand. Daniil told me the Hunt is brutal, but I never thought about it that way until now. Was it arrogance to assume it would be otherwise for me? The longer I’m here the more I find myself changing. I want to know how far I’ll go.” Her voice lowered to a whisper. “Who would I destroy to make Koen mine?”

Anastasia sighed. She saw to the heart of what Marina feared. Her rhythmic motions ceased. “Tatiana.”

The last remaining female Raad was one of the Fallen, kidnapped by Anastasia during the last tournament to lure to the Dragon King into a trap. The young woman now lay unmoving, dying, as her body withered.

A gentle breeze rustled the leaves above them, infusing the air with a hint of earthy freshness.

Flowers twirled and danced in the golden rays of sunlight, floating around them in playful spirals then blanketed the mossy grass.

“Not just that,” Marina said finally, breaking the respectful silence. “I found Koen after he crossed dimensions. Watched him plummet from the fiery clouds like some primeval god.” Marina turned accusing at the memory of his ravaged scales and bloodied side. House Vor caused monumental pain to the people she loved. That she would never forget. “You hurt them so badly. You hurt him.”

“He is King.” Anastasia didn’t flinch under the blame. “He was born to survive us, I promise you.” Her gaze took on a speculative slant, chin hitching up. “So you seek to avenge her? Bloody me as I did him?”

“I thought about it. I hated you.”

“You feared I loved him.” Anastasia tossed her head, as if the mention was ludicrous.

“Oh, no, I know you are all about being Empress.”

“Katya was the fool who thought she could win his love.” Derision filled chilly blue eyes. “Some females are irrational that way. They think they simply have to be more attractive than their rivals. They overlook the intangible bond between true mates. They do not see past their own desire to the heart of the male.”

“You still plan to Hunt Koen, knowing what’s between me and him is real. That’s another kind of denial.”

“Ah, but I would not care if he took you as his mistress.”

“So you could take your own lover?”

“Do not be stupid. No female claimed by the Dragon King could take another.” Anastasia did not react to Marina’s shocked look. “All Katya had to do was follow the rules for her chance.”

Marina hissed.

Her indignation had Anastasia clucking. “It is not wise to ignore the truth. While Koen Raad the man is dedicated to you the inner beast is attracted to power. Like draws like, Princess. If you were not naturally strong enough to beat Katya it might not have been as easy to hold the Dragon’s heart. It is foolish to assume otherwise.”

Marina’s features pinched tight. She sat on her hands, dug them into the bristly sward to keep from lashing out. Possessive rage warred in her heart at a vision of Koen choosing the treacherously beautiful Lady Ja.

The otherness crouched. Plotted a murder with cold-blooded calculation. Hunt, bite, and burn her.

“I don’t agree,” Marina grated at length.

She avoided the fellow Chosen’s eyes. The truth of her savage reaction glared too brightly there.

Sensing she pushed too far, Anastasia let it drop. “We must appear barbaric to you.” She stared pensively into the distance. Her features twisted and became perturbed. “I must seem so callous. Bah, you did not grow up with the lessons of legendary women as we did. Strength is revered in the Dragon Lands as a woman’s true beauty, not the symmetry of her face, or the bounce of her breasts. The only thing the males demand is we keep our hair long.” She rubbed an errant strand curling up from Marina’s crown. Her sigh was wistful. “I would have shorn mine long ago if it were more accepted. It annoys me when they call you deformed. All I see is the practicality of it.” She ran a hand through her tresses then dismissively flicked the heavy mass over her shoulder, deeply tanned by the sun. Her eyes met Marina’s longing ones. She smirked at the appreciation of her physical beauty. “You wish to conform now?”

“It’s not that.”

“Then why do you grow it?”

“For Koen.” Marina blushed. “He likes to rub his snout over it. I think it feels good on his scales.”

Anastasia laughed delightedly. “Well, that is your choice and a sweet one. Aside from their fixation with our hair, Tzioni men know better than to treat their females poorly. Thinking so little of our capabilities would mean their death.” Her expression turned fierce. She used the hilt of her sword to jab the air and ram her point home. “I would cut a male gizzard to gut if he dared insinuate my beauty was greater than my warskill.” She sniffed. “And I am very beautiful.” Satisfied Marina comprehended, she lightened up. “I hear tales of how females are treated in the human dimension. It disgusts me. Why they put up with it I cannot understand.” Shrugging, Anastasia sheathed her weapon to set it carefully aside. She turned and faced Marina fully. “I do not regret who I am. There are times I wonder how different my life would be had I chosen another path, but no, I do not regret. That would be weak.” Her face was hauntingly sincere. The sinewy cords in her neck tensed into stark relief as she laid herself bare. “I have harmed good people during Aver. I killed during the Hunt, mercilessly, used emotional bait to lure the Dragon King to me, and attempted to gain any and all advantage against my competitors – you included. I am destined to lead.” It was said simply without pride. “Other women look to me for strength. My House needs me to defend it. It is my duty and my honour to be their sword. I am ruthless because I must be.” Her gaze drilled into Marina’s, holding it captive with unwavering certainty. “I do not regret nor would I take anything back.” Closing her eyes, Anastasia enjoyed the breeze on her skin. A single tear streaked down her cheek. “Do not be afraid to become who you were meant to be. No matter what they think. No matter they say.”

Humbled by the purity of this wisdom, Marina respectfully inclined her head.

Anastasia didn’t try to justify her past deeds. She owned up to them – claimed them. Lady Vor made no apologies for who and what she was. She was a Queen, and refused to act with anything less than the whole of her warrior soul.

Something she said stuck out.

Marina knew it revealed more than the Chosen intended. Leaning closer, puckish, her lips curved. “He still loves you, you know. And I think you care much more than you let on.”

Eyes popping open the woman blushed vivid crimson. Chuckled throatily. “I had wondered.” Quieting, her gaze turned playful. She breathed a hopeless little sigh. “I like you, Marina. But I vowed to kill you for coveting my Crown.” She directed her a look of wide-eyed challenge.

Marina snorted. Tipping her head back, she looked down her nose, imperious. “Keep it. Stay the hell away from my Wreath.” They locked gazes. “Glad that’s sorted.”

“Poor Galina.” Anastasia said it in a tone that left Marina in no doubt the woman reserved no true pity for the absent First Chosen.

Enjoying the easygoing camaraderie, Marina thought of Cathryn. Her arrival had been awesome for all of a day. Their argument dragged up some deep shit, and upset the harmony of their bond. It had left Marina wary of forming another female friendship. She missed having her girlfriend to bitch to. It was made worse by the fact Cathryn wasn’t a dimension away, but just seven fortifications up.

Anastasia of House Vor was vicious, committed terrible deeds in the name of honour, but there was a softer side nice to be around.

Sensing a softening within, Marina cut the tender feelings dead. The other Chosen would exploit them in a heartbeat if it guaranteed her the ultimate victory.

After Aver they could be friends. Until then....

“Touch Koen again and I’ll kill you.”

Quick as a flash Anastasia grabbed her around the neck to yank her closer. She knocked their foreheads together, and gave her haughtiest warrior glare.

Both women blinked.

Stifled giggles.

Anastasia’s grin was warm, gaze weighted with respect. “I expected nothing less.”

“Good. I’d hate for you to be shocked after I was done thrashing your ass.” Marina held up her hand. “Hit me.”

Anastasia eyed her curiously then grinned, catching on.

They bumped fists.

“Ah, my sister-Queen.” The Chosen stood, dusted off her hands then clasped Marina’s forearm to pull her onto her feet. “Let us see who stands after this so called thrashing.”

CHAPTER THIRTY

High off the jungle floor, Marina raced along a tree branch heedless of the killer drop should she falter. Her knees kicked high and her arms pumped furiously.

Abraded hands batted aside broad leaves, taking damage as spiny branches tore at her face, her hair, ripped gaping holes in her tunic, and left smears of pungent, whitish sap on her leathers.

She vaguely heard the delicate thump, thump, thump, of feet hitting bark coming from the trees beside her. The sounds of pursuit grew more obvious. The snap of twigs and whispery rustle of foliage told her one of the Chosen gained on her – fast.

The opening quest had been a rescue impeded by enemy guards, the second a demonstration of the ability to safely escort a vulnerable asset through hostile territory.

This quest was a footrace through hell.

Thousands of years ago, the original Queen received an urgent message the Emperor fought off an ambush and needed his mate. She’d left her army in the dust running to him. The ancient story ended well for the Dragons, not so well for the Mages, who were burnt to death in sight of their home, the Westlands, which the Dragons called the Wastelands. It was a message that basically communicated, “We are not fucking around.” A message that was reiterated when the families of the Battle Mages were given leave to cross the border and collect the crispy shells of their once loved ones.

A lot of bitterness there, Marina thought idly as her lower stomach cramped.

The Chosen placed first at the end of the third quest got to choose her placement in the arena for the concluding quest.

She’d made Jakob stop talking when he coolly spoke of saber-toothed tigers captured from the jungle – the very one she ran in – and wrestling the other Chosen in a mud slick.

Apparently the ancient Virgin Queens had been aspiring porn stars as well as mate to the Dragon King.

Chest heaving as she reached the end of the knobby tree limb, she extended her stride into a leaping bound. Both boots landed solid. She crouched, leg muscles bunching.

The otherness tensed with anticipation, coiling Marina’s sensory expectations higher.

The world tunnelled into an olive-hued blur as she launched herself head first into the air.

Her reaching fingers curled around the crooked length of a liana, snapped closed, and her body jarred as she was wrenched into a horizontal arc. Dangling legs pulled closed as she locked her muscles into a straight arrow. She hurtled through the moist, insect-laden air. Wind blown hair flat against her scalp, her scream of exhilaration was a ghoulish echo the birds mimicked in ear splitting trills.

As it turns out, the third time you swung across a sixty-foot chasm holding onto nothing but a noodle-like-plant was just as heart stopping as the first.

A tree trunk loomed.

Tiers of branches stuck out of the leviathan-sized plant.

Marina released the vine, plunging in a ten-foot free fall before adroitly latching onto a limb sturdy enough to bear her weight.

Well, she less ‘latched-on’ than ‘fell-flat-on-her-stomach’ onto it. The collision knocked the air and good sense out of her. She scrambled for a hold when it seemed she’d slip off the rounded branch, digging her fingers into the rough bark. Her legs hung in nothing but air, but she didn’t kick, conserving energy.

A line of fiery ants swarming the bloated carcass of a lizard marched past her nose. She frantically blew on the thumbnail-sized beastie that broke rank to investigate her face with its segmented antenna. So focused on the ant was she, the hairy tarantula that crawled past her straining fingers escaped notice.

Marina relied on the strength of her upper body to pull her dead weight high enough to get a leg over.

Red in the face, she humped the tree limb until she straddled it.

Jumping onto her feet, she hesitated to move, drunkenly swaying at the stomach-roiling feel of vertigo as her sense of balance realigned.

A flash of red and gold caught her eye.

Jaw dropping, she snarled at the vision of Anastasia sailing elegantly through the air. She summersaulted from her vine and affected a perfect ten-point landing on a flat, bevelled branch.

The Chosen flicked the sexily tousled fall of her hair back, spared Marina a friendly wave of acknowledgement, and then plunged back into the jungle.

“Bitch.”

Marina knew she had to switch tactics when the thorny bramble below cleared to something remotely traversable, and the tree trunks spaced too far apart to vine-jump.

Anastasia remained in sight. She steadily climbed down into humid understory.

Marina hawked, spat on her hands then grabbed a length of liana. She cackled as she whooshed down the vine in mere seconds.

Sure, she got friction burn towards the end, but it was worth it.

Rivulets of sweat drenched her face and soaked the weave of her tunic. She used the bend of her arm in impatient upward thrust to wipe the salty perspiration.

She checked her positioning using the sun as an anchor then broke out into a ground-eating lope. Her eyes whipped to scan the ground at her feet to check for spoor then up to scan the tangled thicket. Venomous snakes were a serious threat at throat level, scorpions at ground level, and large, territorial predators were a hazard pretty much everywhere else.

It was a crush, the flora a magnificent but deadly thing. Who knew pretty pink flowers could eat birds? She supposed there were a lot of them. The tropical paradise could spare a few noisy flits of movement. Their vivid feather plumes were dramatic splashes of colour against the lush backdrop of rich green.

Long limbed monkeys puckered their lips and brayed from above. They tossed rotting firefruit, screamed laughter, and scuttled along the branches beating their chests and the bark.

Marina really didn’t appreciate their larking about. It was hot, and the sticky-sweet pulp attracted flies. The juices dried in crinkly layers that made her skin feel tight.

The tropical rain forest darkened.

Itching a bite on her neck, she paused to take a sip from her canteen. Her legs protested the break, knees wobbling, thighs throbbing.

Something heavy slithered over her boot, a yellow centipede with hundreds of legs. She ignored it and again orientated herself.

Up ahead she could see the base of the volcano, a red stretch as far as she could see in either direction, casting a monstrous shadow over the jungle.

Reaching the rocky mountain, she began the arduous climb up its steep flank, trying to disregard the ominous way the ground quaked beneath her hands and boots.

There were volcanic eruptions all the time in the Fire Kingdom and lava ran freely around most of the Citadel.

As far as she could tell the behemoth had yet to clear its throat for the day, meaning when it did, it was going to be one hell of an explosion.

She wasn’t actually going to see the vent, simply skirt around a parasitic cone Jakob had steered her towards. It would take her longer, but it was immeasurably safer.

The higher she climbed the hotter it grew. Not only did it smell awful, like rotting eggs, breathing in was like trying to suck up soup through her nose. Her mouth was bone dry, tongue rasping against her teeth like sandpaper, and each time she swallowed, it was as if the reflex stalled to lock her airways closed. She determinedly saved her water for the final decent. The steepness of the trek infused a deep burn in her butt, her lower back, and, strangely, her neck.

The otherness was restless. The near she drew to the apex the more agitated it became. She became so distracted trying to calm it down she stumbled. Her ankle twisted, and she sliced her palm on the sharp jut of a boulder she grabbed for balance.

Thankfully, her aching ankle didn’t hurt too much under her full weight. Licking away the blood on her hand, humming throatily over the metallic taste, she kept going, conscious Anastasia was right behind her and – she assumed – Galina behind her.

Reaching the jagged crater of the nodule, a contained volcano in itself, Marina was astounded to hear a hoarse cry for help.

The otherness went still.

That absolute stillness snagged Marina’s attention because she’d grown accustomed to it always moving.

At first, she was tempted to just keep going. But her conscience wouldn’t let it go. It’s not like there was anyone else around to offer help.

Breathing stunted, she stalked closer to disturbance. She narrowed her eyes in disbelief when she saw a flash of brilliant copper hair.

How the hell did she get up here before me?

Heat lines rose from the barren rock, and thin layers of vapour made it difficult to see.

She peered past the steam and smoke billowing from the bubbling pits and glowing fissures.

Galina flapped her arm trying to gain attention. One of her feet disappeared into a crevice, clearly stuck. The reason for her windmilling arms was probably the fact the crater was vomiting a scalding brook of goo.

A luminous gush of orange lava meandered down the slope towards the trapped Chosen.

Spotting Marina, Galina shrieked and yelled for help.

“This is not your problem.” Panting, hair dark with sweat, Anastasia came up beside her with a disapproving expression. “She was foolish enough to try and climb up and see inside the magma chamber. I have heard from Dragon Lords it is a once-in-a-lifetime splendour for the non two-natured.”

Marina made a noise of frustration. “We can’t leave her.”

“Yes, we can.” The woman sauntered away. “Watch me as I do it.”

“Benevolence is queenly,” she called desperately to the woman’s shrinking back, keeping an eye on the spreading puddle of liquid rock. It seemed to possess a malevolent sentience as it crept closer. “And if we say we’re the Dragon Land’s Queens that make her our vassal. She’s our responsibility.”

Without looking back, Anastasia held up a closed fist.

The glory of first place disappeared with the blonde as she turned a corner to begin her descent.

Just walk away. She’s right this is not your problem. Marina shut her eyes, pissed off at her own decision. What if it’s a trap? But what if this moment defined her as a person? “Shit.”

Rushing up the gravelly slope, Marina slid to a pebble-strewn stop next to Galina then dropped to her knees.

“It is stuck,” the woman cried. Tears were in her voice and streamed down her sun-pinkened face. “My foot has swollen.”

Conscious the lava moved much more swiftly than it appeared to from afar, Marina hurriedly wrapped her arms around Galina’s calf and heaved.

“It hurts.”

“Suck it up.”

Marina looked at the boot from a new angle.

Sure, it was twisted awkward, and the crevice narrow, really wedging the foot in there, but a good shimmy should get it free.

Using her fingertips to feel what she couldn’t see, a horrible kind of fear pinged. No, she thought. No one could be that evil. This was too dangerous a place to kill a rival. Too much could go wrong, and even if it had meant to be a trap, she was too focused to be caught off guard.

Surely Galina was smarter and subtler than that?

Regardless of everything, Marina refused to become the kind of person who’d choose to ignore the suffering of another just in case it put her in harm’s way. She shoved aside thoughts of assassinations, determined to get the other Chosen out alive, even if she’d done it on purpose as a lure.

“Jerk your knee up as hard as you can when I pull,” she instructed. “Okay, on three. One–”

The otherness rose, a swirling vortex of rage and violence.

A roar warning of danger blew out her eardrums.

Icy sensation slicked across her skin. She jolted, and she splintered. The sheer vehemence of power ripping through her in a tsunami of mystical energy robbed her of speech.

Scales popped through her skin in sharp slices of agony.

She released Galina’s leg to slap at the silver-blue flames racing up her legs, spreading to her arms and torso, and charring the edges of her clothing to black curls.

Someone screamed her name.

Hands landed on her back.

Shoved.

The grey landscape tilted into a flaming red hell.

A burst of hot air scalded her face. She was falling, screaming, convulsing. A greedy hiss as flesh hit lava.

Nerve-blistering pain.

The otherness exploded from its cage to crack her wide open. Pulsing light. Ecstasy thundering through her veins, shredding her into billions of pieces.

And fire. Fire consumed her.

The watching throng fell silent.

The day turned unseasonably cold and stormy. It was as if the weather itself warned of impending doom.

The black pennant of House Zar snapped taut in the chill wind that rushed the base of the fortress. It ripped from its mooring and fluttered into a strong gale that swept it higher until it disappeared from sight.

An ill omen, thought Koen Raad.

“It has been too long.” He stared fixedly at the dirt path leading from the last narrow pathway off the volcano. “They should be here.”

“Finally.” Jakob rasped, standing from where he crouched. “You say what we are thinking.” Beads of anxious sweat gathered on his brow. He shot a worried look at the mountain pass. “I will petition the Regent for leave to go to her.”

“Hold.” Giving Jakob a severe look of warning to be silent, Daniil squeezed Koen’s shoulder. “There is time. She may be running late but so are the others.”

Something was wrong. Koen felt it in his gut. It was stupid to stand there and do nothing. “Then why is there fear in your voice?”

The Courts watched. He felt the crushing weight of their critical gazes – eagerly waiting for him to break tradition so they had another stick to beat him with.

News of how he forced the Dragon Council to accelerate the tournament proceedings had not gone over well. Stripping away the indulgent feasting and week long festivities had the Courts in frenzy.

He didn’t – couldn’t – care.

They could imbibe rivers of wine, gorge on mountains of food, gossip themselves into a senseless stupor after his Treasure and offspring were safe.

“I have overreacted in the past,” he said. “I admit it. This time I know she needs me. I must go to her.”

“You were wrong before.” Daniil calmly pointed out. “You were certain she would perish in the black lagoon. See how she triumphed.” He turned to Nikolai, seeking another source of reassurance that had proven helpful in the past. “Is that not so?”

The younger Raad stared at the volcano with singular alertness. His features were pulled tight, eyes narrowed and piercing. “Something is not right.”

Mikhail pushed forward. “I feel it too.”

It was all Koen needed to hear.

He shoved Daniil’s hand off, and felt Jakob come up behind him.

“Look,” Nikolai breathed. “Galina.”

Daniil rushed forward, eyes narrowing. “Anastasia is behind her.” Anxiously rubbing his jaw, his tone filled with relief. “Marina will be behind them.”

Koen didn’t relax. He began to sweat, and feel an even greater urgency to find his Treasure. He waited for her to round the corner. And waited. And waited, growing more anxious the longer that passed and the closer the other Chosen drew without seeing evidence of her following.

“I hear Anastasia has always been fierce. I have seen her angry from afar, but....” Nikolai inhaled sharply. “Does she always look like that?”

Daniil audibly swallowed. He took a step back, physically distancing himself from his fears. “Something is wrong.”

At his admission the males moved forward as one.

A line of Dragon Men and the Regent blocked their path. “The quest is not over until the last Chosen crosses from the pass onto this flat of land.” He glared at them. “You may go no further, and you may not interfere.” He gave Koen a scathing look. “In this you will not force my hand.”

Their eyes turned to the approaching females.

Koen noticed Galina was less running for the finish, and more trying to reach the safety of her kinsmen.

Anastasia gained on her with a violent kind of intensity promising death. She hurled herself into the air and landed on the other Chosen’s back.

They went down hard.

Pushing onto her hands and knees Galina crawled.

Anastasia brought her elbow down on the back of her neck then grabbed her face and smashed it into the ground.

“Vor has gone mad,” Lord Tyr shouted.

Silent as death, Aleksandr’s sudden movement startled the older Lord, who abruptly found himself blocked by two hundred pounds of battle-scarred male.

Gasping, Galina flailed a hand, managing to drag her nails over her assailant’s cheek.

The two females rolled, switched positions in flurried blurs, fighting for tactile advantage.

Anastasia used her greater mass to halt the wild movement.

She straddled Galina, gripped her tunic in a white-knuckled fist then punched her in the nose. Crunch. A scream and crimson blood spurt. Anastasia became abnormally tranquil as her fist delivered blow after crushing blow.

Galina’s face was battered. Her head lolled lifelessly.

United in a suspended phase of disbelief the gathering watched the staggeringly violent beating in a haze of confusion.

“Stop,” Tyr bellowed. “Stop this.”

This time Aleksandr didn’t block his advance. He watched as Lord Tyr futility attempted to breach the impregnable wall of the Regent’s Dragon Men, then turned a faintly perplexed gaze onto his seemingly homicidal sister.

“Ana,” Daniil roared sickened by the irrational display of brutality. “Ana, stop.”

Him she heard.

Staggering onto her feet, Anastasia roughly swiped away a trickle of blood from the corner of her mouth. Soot marred her heart-shaped face. Her left eye was swelling, a trio of slashes stark on her tanned cheek, but compared to the female choking and spluttering at her feet, her wounds were trifling.

As she dragged Galina’s limp body the last few shaku to the finish, her eyes locked on Koen Raad then dropped, misting with a veil of tears that confused them all.

She dropped the other First Chosen when Galina moaned pitifully, batted weakly at the hands holding her.

Bitterly cold, Anastasia spoke. “Aleksandr. My katana.”

Frowning, her bother didn’t hesitate to skilfully throw the weapon overhead.

No one dared stop him.

She snatched it from the air, clasped hilt and scabbard to draw free the length of metal with a ringing peal that hushed the petrified onlookers.

“Ana,” Daniil called with quiet intensity. “Talk to me. Tell me what is wrong.”

“There must be justice.” She looked at him, furious, shaking with it. “Know that I never wanted this. From the moment I saw her I knew my time was over. My chance had ended, and I made peace with it.” Her eyes widened then, and she looked a little shocked, a little lost. “I am so sorry, Daniil.” Her voice was truly stunned. “Believe there was nothing I could do.” Her gaze snapped to Koen Raad.

They saw it then.

Pity.

Great heart failing its beat, Koen staggered.

Shaking, blanching as her words penetrated, he clawed at his throat, searching for the invisible hand crushing his windpipe. He couldn’t breathe. His chest was rigid, his lungs locked in a perpetual spasm.

Reddened eyes anxious, Nikolai drew closer to his brother. His arms opened, prepared to hold, keep him steady. When Koen started violently, Nikolai wrapped his arm around his brother’s shoulders and heaved him into a solid embrace. He struggled to help the male contain the raw surges of mystical power whiplashing from his beastly soul as his world shattered.

Anastasia brought their attention back to the battered female blubbering in the dirt. She used the rounded toe of her boot to flatten Galina’s head to the ground. “By default I am Queen of the Fire Kingdom, as was always my destiny. You will forfeit. The Goddess herself knows you are not my equal.”

“Anastasia Vor.” Distraught at the turn of events, the Regent crossly waved aside the guard who tried to waylay his advance on the unstable Chosen, who wielded a sword, terrorized her competitor, and brought news of a most destructive nature. “You panic us. Speak plainly.”

Straightening, Anastasia settled the point of her curved blade at the hollow of Galina’s throat. Her voice lifted to carry strongly over the stormy weather. “Marina is dead.”

Gasps and cries of disbelief rippled through the watching crowd.

“Galina murdered her,” Anastasia finished, gaze haunted. “And I could not stop it.”

Shoulders hunching as if crushed by an unbearable weight, Mikhail fell to his knees, silent, breaking.

The shocked Dragon Courts recovered. Scandalized whispers and outraged bellows demanding an explanation swelled into an anxious uproar.

Spinning to look at Koen Raad, Regent Myron stood rooted, his worst nightmare coming to pass.

“Murder?” Lord Tyr barked. “The charge holds no weight.” His eyes flicked to Galina. “Allow my offspring to finish the quest.”

“The rules of Aver are clear. I know them well.” Anastasia’s malignant gaze speared him with such force many who witnessed it half expected a blade to pierce through the back of his skull. “First Chosen may strike at each other during the tournament proceedings, but not during a quest. To do so is illegal, and the death is considered murder.”

“What she says is true.” Gathering composure, Regent Myron tore his sad gaze from Koen Raad to handle the consequences of fate’s cruel work. He folded his shaking hands under his belt. Fear crept up his spine as his mind comprehended the violence yet to come. He skirted close to panic. “To expedite matters we shall pronounce judgement.”

Yaakov looked confused then scared when realisation dawned of what Myron tried to avoid. “Lady Vor,” the sweating male called brusquely. He unrolled parchment and held a quill at the ready to record the proceedings for entry into the archives. “State your case and present evidence. You may recommend punishment.”

“Punishment?” she replied frostily. “The penalty will be death.”

“Noted for review by the Keeper of the Realm.”

“I am in agreement,” Myron said curtly, indicating with a sharp gesture Yaakov needed to hurry.

“This is madness.” Tyr shoved at the Dragon Men barring his way. “I demand the charge brought before the Dragon Council.”

Usually prepared to take whatever advantage there was to be had when concerning the law, Daniil stared blankly at the middle distance. Shock etched deep grooves into his face, his refined features frozen in a twist of horror.

“A Council Mon kneels not five-shaku from you,” Jakob said hoarsely, and pointed at Mikhail, who had yet to raise his dark head. “You will find no mercy here nor will you find it there, you bastard.”

Twirling in a riot of white hair and resplendent silk, Regent Myron’s gold eyes blazed. He was furious to be opposed at the brink of such peril. “Silence,” he thundered. “Queen Anastasia! Present!” And with those words he transferred the reign of the Fire Kingdom from his hands to hers.

“Lady Tyr pushed the Princess into a lava flow. Marina went to her when she called for help.” Perplexity flickered over Anastasia’s expression before it cleared. “She was distracted by something, I don’t know what I saw exactly. Marina was so odd at times. But Galina placed her hands upon the Princess’ back and shoved.”

“She fell,” Galina protested. Her trembling fingers gingerly touched the blade a flick away from ending her life. “You lie.”

Anastasia hissed, “Murderer,” right in her face. “You have no honour. I will kill you for robbing me of my sister-Queen. Finally the Realm had one who was worthy, who bested me, and was unafraid to be who she was. She stood up to the strong to defend the weak knowing it cost her, knowing she could lose it all.” Terrifying in her rage, Anastasia loomed over Galina and punctured every word with a shove of her boot. “She deserved better.”

A deep, male voice whispered, “She is gone.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Eyes eerily vacant, Koen Raad stood rigid in the clasp of his brother’s arms. His brutally handsome face was expressionless, pallor waxen.

“Gone?” he forced through death-white lips.

“Lies,” Galina cried into the lull. Her braid had fallen to hang over her shoulder, curly auburn wisps framing her panicky face. “It was an accident.” Her gaze flickered and she blinked. “My King, you of all people know how far House Vor will go to win Aver. The blood of how many Fallen stains Anastasia’s blade?”

“I have killed, yes, but always with honour. What you did–” Anastasia turned a sickly shade of grey. “What you did shames everything First Chosen stand for. We are the strongest women of our world. Other females look to us for strength. Look what you have reduced us to.”

Breaking free of Nikolai, Koen stalked past the Dragon Men.

They wisely parted without approval from the anxious Regent, who listlessly waved them aside, redirecting their efforts into corralling the burgeoning crowd.

Myron watched the scene unfold with an air of resignation.

Yaakov urged him to move back to safety.

Their attempt to avoid the confrontation had been in vain. Myron knew the storm he envisioned days ago had arrived.

Koen Raad stopped and stared into the Drackai Queen’s clear blue eyes. He looked past her to the path his Treasure would never tread. His gaze dropped to Galina. “Tell me the truth.” His voice was empty. “Tell it all, and I will not kill you.”

“No,” Anastasia said. “The bitch receives no mercy.”

Stiffening, Koen’s fingers slowly curled into fists, a physical representation of exercising control. “Am I to think you see your claim on her life as greater than mine?”

Cowed, Anastasia skilfully swept her blade aside. Her full mouth pressed into a white slash as she submitted to his authority.

Koen crouched. He touched a finger to Galina’s flushed cheek, and traced the curve of her face. His expression was void of feeling. “Well?”

Shying from his touch, the First Chosen nervously licked her lips. “My life will be spared?”

No reply.

“Y-You will not kill me?”

“I will not.”

Her rounded eyes darted to and from his. “She said no one would know. They said it would be flawless and that she wouldn’t feel any pain.”

“Names.” Koen clasped her petite hand in his. He turned it over to study it absorbedly. “Who said these things?”

Daniil and Nikolai shared a circumspect look. Koen Raad was not acting as they expected. They’d been prepared to watch him eviscerate the woman who killed his Treasure, not pet her softly as if enamoured. He was acting as if he truly was swayed to a stronger competitor on Aver. It unnerved them. The hairs on their arms, and the backs of their necks rose in warning that something was not right with their liege.

“Who?” Jakob forcefully repeated the demand from where he knelt. A burning light of realisation crackled in the bottomless depths of anguished eyes. “Who?”

“Katya of House Ja,” Galina blurted. “She and my Sire promised no one would know.” She pointed at Anastasia, accusing in the midst of her hysteria. “She was not meant to see. Why did you come back?”

“Because while I was happy to leave you to your fate, Marina’s words filled my heart with compassion. I returned to help her save you.” Anastasia looked upon her with contempt. “It is fitting her last words to me ensured your destruction. Had she not pleaded your case so well I never would have turned back.” Anastasia paused. “She said benevolence is queenly. That you are my responsibility.” Her voice lowered, silken and exceedingly dangerous because of it. “Whatever shall I do with you?”

Koen smoothed his fingertips over Galina’s bloodied plait.

Teeth grinding, Anastasia could no longer hold back. “What are you doing?” she snapped. “Marina loved you and here you sit pawing her assassin.”

“Perhaps our King sees what you cannot.” Sensing an opening, Lord Tyr marched into the conflict. He was reassured by the King’s transfixion with his offspring. “Aver is a tradition we uphold to ensure the strongest Queens lead us. It ensures the Empress will protect the Dragon Land’s greatest hope – our Emperor.”

“I cannot believe you have done this,” Myron muttered bleakly. “You have shamed your House, Artur. “Betrayed all trust.”

“I did nothing Dragon Lords of the Courts have not done since the dawn of our civilisation.”

“She was not natural,” Galina cried, swollen face wet with tears, heedless her feverish rambling sounded crazed. “An abomination.”

“You plotted against a royal and murdered a female whose only crime was to love our King and demand a better life for those who toil beneath us,” Myron said. “You snuffed one of our brightest flames. You dare speak of what is civilised.”

“Lina will be a Queen.” Artur placed a heavily ringed hand on his Galina’s crown. The satisfaction in his was voice sickening. “That is all that matters.”

Koen stirred. Emerald eyes glimmered enigmatically as he stroked Galina’s face from temple to jaw before standing. “You did all this so your offspring could call me mate? So she might rule by my side as Empress?”

Tyr’s hooked-nose jutted up. He was blinded to the reality immortality was a mere illusion of invincibility. “I did.”

Koen grabbed the male by the throat. His speed was an incalculable thing. He lifted the male into the air and throttled him.

When the Dragon Lord’s mouth wrenched open to babble for help the beastly roar that ripped from Koen’s throat forever pressed dragonfear into the hearts of those who heard it.

Artur’s eyes bulged from their sockets.

Blood vessels burst flooding his corneas with red as he fitfully struggled to breathe. His lips turned bluish, body juddered.

His clawed fingers scratched at hand crushing his airway.

Scuttling backwards, Galina wailed, screaming in terror when Koen’s maleficent gaze alighted upon her, a promise of death held there.

“You ask how I could touch her?” Eyes narrowing, Koen Raad focused on Anastasia as he fought the primeval urge to kill. “It confused me.” He explained this haltingly. His voice was dark and gritty as he battled his Dragon’s emergence. “It confused me how this creature could be the one who ended her. How?” His breath sawed harshly. “I thought if I felt the power of her flesh my mind would understand what my heart does not.” His body quaked, a violent tremble that shook him from head to foot. “How?”

“With a cowardly trick,” Anastasia said. “This female was no match. Never doubt it.”

Lips pressed together, he jerked a nod. His bestial aura turned menacing. “I interrupted you.”

Her face twisted with savagery as she lunged and stomped on Galina’s stomach.

The disgraced First Chosen cried out. She wrapped her arms around her middle, attempting to curl into a ball on her side.

Anastasia raised her katana for a deathblow.

Koen angled Tyr towards his progeny. “See your offspring? Good. Listen well. Galina is going to die, without honour, writhing in the dirt like the treacherous soft belly she is.” His shook the male held suspended in his grip. “I am going to kill you. Know that as your blood cools upon my scales, I fly to your home to kill your sons, your brothers, cousins, and your nephews. I will end your entire male line.” Koen brought the male closer, so his face filled his vision. “Your females too, Artur Tyr. All of them are dead because of you.” He pointed at Galina. “And because of that thing you spawned.”

“Please.” The Dragon Lord’s breathless screech filled with dread. “My wife–”

“Will die quickly. That mercy is for her sake alone.” Koen glanced over his shoulder. His eyes were cold fire. It was the Dragon’s growl they heard when he rumbled, “I do not hear her dying.”

Sounding a warrior cry that drowned the sound of Galina’s scream, Anastasia brought the katana down.

Releasing his prisoner, Koen shifted into dragonskin.

Artur’s body blazed light as he was freed. His purple Dragon cowered in the vast shadow of a Phoenix.

The male barely wore his scales before his head flew crown over snout into the crowd with a spray of blood.

Flames razed his corpse to smouldering ash.

Koen’s horned head thrashed, and the subvocal roar wrenched from his soul rocked the world. His wings snapped open to beat wildly, casting an ominous shadow, scattering the swarm of people fighting to traverse the hostile terrain as it shook in a tumult.

A subterranean rumble rose to a deafening crescendo, and a sharp drop in air pressure preceded an eerie deadness of sound.

The Dragon Lords stilled. They became statues in the heaving mass of bodies. They gazed up in expectation of a natural splendour the most feral of their kind felt an inexplicable draw to.

A sinister cloudburst of smoke and brimstone blotted the sky as an ash plume mushroomed over the horizon.

Thunder rolled and lightning struck the jagged mountain peak.

The volcano erupted.

It spewed a vertical cascade of lava, a luminous rust-orange beacon in the cinder-flecked gloom.

Droves of wild ones soared hazardously close to the viscous waterfall of liquid rock. Their ear-splitting screeches fell silent as one by one they closed their iridescent wings and plummeted towards the spitting crater, inescapably drawn to the heat.

A hail of magma orbs came screaming down the mountain.

The great black Dragon raged in the midst of chaos, his roars anguished cries that cursed the world.

Arms flung wide, the Regent commanded the crows to hasten their disperse.

Children were snatched up to avoid being trampled. Dragon Lords shifted, grabbing loved ones in their claws. Shrieking and caterwauling they took to the blackening skies. Attendants ran as Dragon Men hurried them back towards the fortress.

It was the fleeing purple Dragons that drew Koen’s ire.

Inhaling until his chest burned brightly, he spat shards of ice at their departing forms.

Let them run, he thought. Tonight I hunt.

“Dragon King.” As weaker males fled, Myron held his ground. His snowy beard fluttered in the currents of air stirred up by the mass exodus in flight. “Do not do this.”

Angling his snout to peer at the voice of reason beating back misery’s shade, Koen growled warningly. He wanted the numbing blackness of oblivion.

“Bestow mercy upon them.”

‘Mercy?’ His beast soul raged. ‘Houses Ja and Tyr are poison.’

“Attack blindly and innocents will suffer. Think. Marina would never condone this.”

The silence was fraught with pain.

Flurries of ash covered the bedrock in a filigreed layer of grey, turning it into a forlorn moonscape. Air to breathe was thick and sweltering. The pungent stench of burnt sulphur choked it.

“Come back to the Citadel. Mourn with those who loved her.” Myron’s ancient face creased in pain, grief-stricken. “This will not go unpunished. I vow those responsible will be discovered.”

‘My wrath will not be denied.’ Koen shut his eyes. His sides heaved in vast undulations, and ridged claws restlessly shifted. Flexed. They craved the rending of flesh. There was no forgiveness inside him. None. His booming voice resonated as poignantly as the everlasting sadness in his eyes when they pried open. ‘There is no body. I cannot hold her one last time. Gaze upon my Treasure in her last glory.’ His voice broke. ‘She is ash.’

Feeling power gather behind him, his horned head turned to stare over his spinal crest.

Daniil, Jakob and Mikhail headed the horde amassed at his back. Unblinking. Deathly cold. Transformed into powerful Dragon form, gleaming fangs bared, furious roars exploded from the throats of the impassioned warriors. Smoke and frost heated then chilled the air, adding to the spine-tingling fluctuations in temperature. The ranks of Dragons were enraged, bristling and snarling anger, ready to annihilate the perfidious Houses they once honoured as they did their own.

It surprised and saddened him so many of the hides glistened in shades of blue and silver.

All Wyvrae but for one bronze hide.

The fire breathers had run.

Koen wondered how he had been blinded to the true nature of the Drackai.

It had become known throughout the Dragon Lands Marina set her sights on the Ice Wreath. The Wyvrae had embraced her. They admired her tenacity, her unwavering strength in the face of overwhelming odds, a plight they related to on the deepest level.

Her death at the hands of treacherous fire breathers infuriated them.

Daniil’s presence shocked him.

The Drackai Queen’s muscular thighs wrapped around his serpentine neck were less a revelation.

Anastasia’s face was expressionless, yet her eyes remained alight with the fires of vengeance.

Her bloody katana rested unsheathed on her thigh.

Already the weapon had severed the life of a betrayer.

In the end, as Koen had looked into Galina’s eyes, he’d known hatred. A true and everlasting hatred, something he never believed himself conceivable of feeling.

Beneath his fingers she had been soft and vital. Alive. Her warm, minted breath brushed his skin, and her green eyes had been filled with regret. Regret. As if she had the right to sit before him feeling anything. That she still drew breath while his beloved was lost to a fiery grave caused a rapacious fury to devour his soul from within.

Bitterness eroded the loyalty he felt towards the others of his kind, decimated the strictures of honour he’d based his life upon.

Hovering in that endless moment of darkness, he stalked the boundaries of evil insanity.

How close he came to breaking.

Koen had known if he took her life there would be no going back. A monster would inhabit his body. His rampage would destroy the male Marina had loved.

With his heart breaking, his mind locked in a piercing roar yet to abate, Koen Raad had remembered the grace of his lost mate’s soul, and turned from darkness.

Oh, the blackness tainted him. He would not rest until the bloodlines of Ja and Tyr were wiped from existence, but it would be done the proper way – executions – by an army that would eradicate the bastards.

Captain Vadik stood at the claws of his overlord. He solemnly nodded, hawk like gaze scanning the fleeing crowds.

Lord Ryu dismissed the human, trusting him with instructions to protect his distressed heir.

Tail curled around a foreleg, Viktor sat trembling in his juvenile dragonskin. Tears wet his adolescent snout.

“Please.” Regent Myron once again claimed Koen’s attention. Eyes wild, he resorted to begging to diffuse the coming implosion. “More death will not ease your suffering. It will not bring her back.” He took a brave step, arms outstretched, beseeching. “Do not do this.”

‘It is done.’

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

The creature wakened. Um, ouch? Its first clear thought was an incredulous whisper that ended on a hiss of pain. She tried to move, and her legs cramped. Somehow, she knew her four limbs had never walked before, never borne her heavy weight.

She wriggled her way from the hot sludge rushing past her hide, and flumped onto the smouldering bank of the lava reservoir. She tried to stand, but could only find enough energy to limply stir her tail in the hot gloop.

She lay there for a while, whimpering, confused.

Where am I?

The Dragoness couldn’t recall why she’d gone swimming, or how she’d gotten here. She remembered being angry because her back was vulnerable to an enemy, and she sensed betrayal....

A growl rumbled up her throat, and her maw cracked to bare her fangs.

Why that skinny ginger bitch.

The Dragoness tried again to rise, her mind fixed on tearing the betrayer limb from limb, setting her on fire then dousing her in a blizzard of ice shards, when another thought pierced the rage.

How did she defeat me?

Triangular, horned head tilting, she stilled, stumped.

Her memory showed a thin two-legged creature. The Dragoness knew the human female was mighty, but no match for her dragonskin.

Her snout dropped and she nosed a flaming globule of sulphur sliding down her fore claw.

The Dragoness felt bone deep shame to be bested by one so scrawny.

Why did she defeat me? Am I not powerful and strong? How will my mate ever look upon me without wondering if the other female is better?

Rather than fall into a bout of self-pity, the thought made her stiffen. She chased it down and pounced, pinning it.

A vision of sleek, tanned male flesh, and slanted green eyes alive with desire. Killer smile. Rough, possessive hands gripping moonstone flesh.

My mate is two-legged as well as Dragon.

She focused and burrowed deeper into the recesses of her mind.

I am not usually like this, am I?

She vaguely recalled looking down her body and seeing fleshy swells, a swathe of flat skin, upper limbs ending in splayed stars, and rounded flanks that connected to longer lower limbs.

Her mind recoiled.

Determined to get to the bottom of this, she narrowed her focus and the memories became clearer.

Aver. The quest. The scale. Koen Raad. Aver!

Marina Zar pushed her forelegs straight and angled her head to stare down at the paws tipped with shiny black claws in disbelief.

Well, hell. There’s no explaining this away.

Her mind held the thought then skipped beyond it.

Oh, shit. How long have I been missing?

During a quest the only thing that would keep a First Chosen from finishing was death.

They must think I’m dead. If Koen Raad thinks I’m dead....

Dread struck fear into her new, vastly great heart. She struggled to move.

Good grief, my ass must weigh a ton.

The black Dragon raged. His fury snaked through the halls, wiping away tapestries and priceless heirlooms in a flare of numinous flame. The searing heat melted the stone foundations into molten slag. Chunks of clay and slate dropped from above to smash into the lacquered floor. Intricately carved pillars burned to charcoal bricks. Hungry blue-black smoke lapped at the painted ceilings with ravenous fervour.

Blurs of sliver, sapphire and cobalt clashed with streaks of mauve, amethyst and violet.

Battling with primal wrath, Mikhail rolled past, locked in a vicious brawl with a purple-scaled Dragon.

The Dragon Lord oath-sworn to House Tyr had burnished gold horns he used to effect, thrashing his head and gouging the Council Mon’s hide.

On the other side of the burning antechamber, Daniil’s serpentine body whipped around. His pointed tail lashed out to slice the throat of a dark lavender-coloured Dragon clawing at his sides.

Silver eyes swivelling wildly, Jakob slinked past.

A group of soot-faced terrified younglings were sheltered under his leathery wings. He snarled in warning as another Dragon with pearl scales took a swipe at them. Urging them on, he snapped his fangs and hissed protectively as he led them to safety.

Treasure would be proud of him.

Pain knifed his heart, and the black Dragon turned away from human thought to submerge himself in primitive instinct.

Yet for all his mindless frenzy the black Dragon let Jakob and the younglings escape into the inky safety of night.

Babies could be spared.

Only the tainted need be cleansed with fire.

A fleeing Lady wrapped in velvet tripped over the rubble and debris. She tumbled over with a piercing cry, scattering the armful of possessions she’d clutched to her chest.

Lurching from her ungainly sprawl, she started frantically gathering the expensive trinkets.

The black Dragon stalked the female.

Head bent, she was engrossed in her things rather than her vulnerable back.

He lifted a fore claw, brought it over her head then down in front of her, crushing the charms she coveted enough to risk her life. He had yet to come across a female, and despite his vow to obliterate those of Tyr and Ja blood, the Dragon felt no urge to harm the woman.

Trembling violently, she slowly lifted her hooded head.

He slinked around so they were nose to snout.

“King Raad,” she whispered.

Tears welled and overflowed from bitter chocolate eyes. Age lined her face, deep grooves around her mouth and wrinkling her forehead.

Deathly pale, her mouth hung open. Her eyes seemed too large for her face, the orbs glassy with terror.

“S-s-sorry,” stammered hoarsely.

The female slithered forward and prostrated herself, cowl falling back to reveal glossy chestnut hair, and a slender throat enclosed with a thick gold choker. Her jade pendant slipped from concealment.

The symbol of House Tyr dangled from a leather chain.

“Galina wa-was wrong. My h-husband.... A-Artur never m-meant.... H-he never s-said–”

Fury obliterated coherent thought. A memory wreathed in pain blotted out the light.

“Your females too, Artur Tyr. All of them are dead because of you.”

The woman screamed, rearing back to shield her face, blinded by an emerald glare piercing through the firestorm.

Viktor watched his Sire fly in the midst of greatness.

Vadik leaned against his hide, and murmured soothing things in his ear. He shrugged his mentor away, and shuffled into a corner to hide his shameful tears.

He wept for his cousin, his young heart breaking.

It was not lordly, not manly, to show such emotion over a member of your House who died in glorious honour, but he’d loved her so. It did not matter she would forever be remembered, held dear to the hearts she had touched. All he knew was that she was gone. Her life taken before she could become the legendary Queen she had been destined to be.

Ululating wails of mourning filled the air. The Citadel widows would cry for the fallen Chosen for a day and night, as was tradition.

Pushing shakily onto his claws, Viktor did not stop running until the moisture in his eyes blurred his vision entirely.

In the beginning, he’d heard and spread rumours of her like the rest. Lies that said she was a monster, cold, calculating, and bent on twisting the Dragon King around her finger to rule the Drgaon Lands. He had assumed she would be a plain, disfigured thing, stern of bearing, and opinion. The kind of hard female that intimidated him no end, and thought he was ruined because of his halting speech. Those females – like Anastasia Vor – who seemed more likely to cut your throat then consider a mating.

Slowly, as the weeks passed, and they travelled to the Fire Kingdom for Aver, rumours of an even more outrageous kind circulated. ‘Princess Zar’, it was whispered, ‘is a warrior saint.’ She protected the weak and fed the hungry. She adopted a slave and made him a Prince. She loved the King and embraced all the people of Tzion as her own.

Viktor had been terrified for the first time in his life when he realized he was to sit next to the infamous High Princess during the commencement feast.

The radiant beauty that dropped into the seat next to him, flashing him a charming smile then offering him food, as if his personal servant, had been wholly unexpected, and consequently, beguiling.

It was no wonder the Dragon King and Lord Kol were so taken with her. She was kind and giving.

Aver had claimed her life. It was too horrible to fathom.

Viktor had meant what he said. After hearing of her kind-heartedness, and meeting her in person, he passionately hoped she would choose the Wreath and become Queen of the Wyvrae. Serving a female such as her would have made the inescapable future his Sire plotted for him bearable.

Heading higher up the mountain, Viktor breathed through his nose to filter the ash from entering his lungs, as he had been taught, and rubbed his reddened eyes with the softer side of his foreclaw.

A cautious mewl caught his attention. It came from beyond the crest of the rocks he leaned against.

Climbing nimbly on all fours, he craned his serpentine neck over.

He rumbled a low, baffled growl.

A wild Dragon female with vibrant purple-scales peered up at him, her violet eyes keen with intelligence.

She chirred throatily.

Sorrow too fresh to show interest in the peculiar encounter, Viktor slipped down the boulder to return to his aimless roaming.

The dragoness lifted into the air, descended with a rapid beating of her wings, and blocked his departure.

She chomped at his spiked tail.

A deep aggressive growl rumbled from his throat. He bared his fangs so she could see his flame.

He might be adolescent, but he would defeat the dragoness if she attacked.

She lowered her hornless head in submission.

Maintaining eye contact, she returned his narrowed gaze with what Viktor swore was frustration.

Confused at her behaviour – wild dragonesses were known to be unapproachable to Dragon Lords in dragonskin – he watched her cough smoke, almost disdainfully, before she flicked her bladeless tail in a steady wag.

The movement smacked him with the notion she tried to keep his attention.

She inched backwards back around the boulder, holding his gaze prisoner, yet keeping her snout lowered in surrender.

Curious, he followed.

Maybe she had a nest of fledglings that needed saving after the eruption.

Caves often collapsed killing the young of wild ones. It was a common enough occurrence in this part of the land, but he never heard of a dragoness asking for help.

Viktor charily followed from a distance. He was sure she wanted him to trail her, as when he stopped, she threateningly hissed and snapped. Rounding the boulder, she took him across a barren flat until the strong scent of sulphur burned his nose.

The incandescent orange glow of magma caught his eye – nothing unusual about that considering he stood in the shadow of a nodule on a volcano flank.

The creature dragging itself from the boiling stream of magma was uncommon.

Viktor stopped walking.

Utter confusion swamped him.

The dragoness was horned. Her opalescent scales were a beautiful black onyx edged with a slivery-blue sheen.

Am I truly looking at a horned, blade-tailed female? His mind rejected that. I am looking at a runty wild Dragon male with female scales?

Whatever it was, the poor creature seemed half dead.

Mindful of the torrents splintering off the core lava flow, Viktor lumbered towards the injured beast. The dragoness that led him to this place unmistakably wanted him to help. The adamant tail flicks and impatient snarls were impossible to ignore.

The black dragon caught his scent. It stilled, growled menacingly. It even sounded female.

‘Easy.’ He was not a Phoenix, the wild one would not understand him, but it would not hurt to send out peaceable thoughts. ‘I will help you.’

The purple dragoness coughed then took to the sky.

Bewildered by the hasty departure, Viktor turned his attention to the black-scaled dragon.

It accepted his presence, trembling and whimpering for help. Its hind leg looked swollen, and rested against its slender body awkwardly. Its laboured breathing seemed to become worse on each inhalation.

‘Poor creature.’ He looked into its eerily present eyes. Dark mahogany eyes filled with recognition. His heart skipped a beat and he reared back in fright. ‘C-Cousin?’

‘Viktor?’ The plaintive whisper was barely sound.

But he had heard it.

‘Marina.’

A reaction to the name, the horned dragoness tried to crawl closer, groaning lowly when she shifted, dragging her sensitive underbelly across the harsh ground.

Convinced, Viktor padded closer.

Reaching out with his tail, he dithered, realizing she was covered in scoria. Porous and ashy bistre, it cooled into a rigid, rumpled husk covering her body in a broken lattice of chainlike striations.

He winced.

It would feel heavy and tight, uncomfortable, not to mention scorching.

Keening, she tried to stand.

He calmed her with soothing noises and gentle waves of his tail. ‘Be easy. It must feel as if the weight of the world crushes your hide.’

She snorted smoke, choked, and then vomited runny brimstone.

The magnitude of what he had discovered was unimaginable. Viktor experienced true mind-numbing indecision.

Did he fly for help? Would she survive her appalling condition for that length of time?

Surviving the magma and breathing in ash thorough her maw instead of her nose had drained her of strength, not to mention the tremendous amount of mystical energy one expelled just to shift into dragonskin.

Without help, exposed to the elements, she could fade before help arrived. Yet, her people had to be told she was alive. Moreover, what if another came across her before then?

Shrinking back, scared, Viktor trembled under the immense responsibility thrust upon him.

‘Tell me what to do, Cousin.’

There was no reply.

Sobs echoed through the walls. Cathryn’s cries to be reunited with her friend inspired pity from the servants that watched her break apart.

Her grief raked across Koen’s soul with poisonous claws.

Bloody and gore splattered, he had barely passed her chamber when she had flown at him with a desolate kind of lunacy. Returning to the great hall after a respite from the tense aftermath of the latest raid, he had merely swept the woman aside, unable to deal with her sorrow because his own was too raw.

Mercifully, Mikhail intercepted.

When she demanded answers, begging him to contradict the rumour of Marina’s demise, the Council Mon told her the gruesome tale in a broken rush.

Her anguished scream, the sound of her body hitting the floor made his heart bleed.

Koen could not comfort the woman his Treasure had loved.

He could not even comfort himself.

The screeches of denial tearing from her throat had not abated in the hours since. The crash of random objects flying into the walls as she raged at anyone who came near added to the mad woe infecting the Citadel.

Feral and restless, Koen stalked the halls he and his Treasure had tread. She haunted him. Memories plagued him at every turn, muted by the hazy mist of fantasy.

“Are you sulking?” he asked.

Her ghost spun, eyes twinkling, lips curved in a smile. “Yes.” She pouted as fears of not being a good mother shadowed her dark eyes.

He picked her up in his arms and held her warm weight close to his heart.

The vision dissipated. The gnawing ache grew.

Now he stood in the throne room, his soul shattering into a million pieces, only for those splinters to shatter again.

A powerful Mage stood before him demanding an audience.

“King Raad, our condolences.” Shukri was dressed in a sturdy travel cloak. A humble attendant kneeled at his rear, and a powerful Battle Mage with eyes of cold steel escorted them. “The time has come to end our business here.”

Daniil glared angrily. “Your timing-”

“Is regretful,” the Eldermon said, “but not our fault. The Princess and I disagreed, but we did not meet as enemies. You have no cause to believe me, Lord Kol, but I am saddened by this loss.” Shukri drew himself up. “It was the Princess herself who claimed this land was a haven of safety for Ryuk.” He gestured to the balcony. Below them vagrants tried to gain entry. “That is no longer the case. We are returning home, and we are taking our Prince with us. It is no longer safe for him here.”

“How dare you,” Mikhail rumbled. “The ashes of my offspring barely settle, and here you stand, demanding what she loved most.”

Shukri tossed him a dry look. It was not without pity. “Your decision?” he asked Koen.

“We have run out of time,” Daniil said quietly, his eyes fixed on his weary King. “There is no sense in delaying this any longer.”

Anastasia – the only female within the room – leisurely stood. She eyed them all with abhorrence. “I will not be part of this. I must check none of my people have become caught up on the wrong side of the fighting.” She sniffed. “Goddess knows Aleksandr will be neck-deep in trouble.”

“Yes,” Sevastyan grumbled. “It is time to see to our vassals.”

He stumbled onto his feet.

Eyes glassy and balance compromised, he brushed splatters of wine from his chest plate. His reaction to the death of his niece was to drown in drink.

He felt hollow inside, even as a part of him rejoiced it was not Viktor.

His thoughts made him ill.

“I cannot stay,” he said more firmly.

Anastasia halted. “If Marina’s people are not here then I know exactly where this conversation will end.”

Daniil scowled. “We are all her people.”

She did not openly refute his claim. Her body language said it all. “My answer remains the same. I will not be a part of this.” She looked at him then, softening. “But I understand the practicality behind it.”

“Perhaps,” Mikhail said slowly, understanding dawning, “I too should leave.” There would be no wining this fight. He sacrificed his relationship with his only offspring over a lusting that quickly passed. He and Cathryn could barely speak civilly in each other’s presence. Now his offspring was gone, and there would never be the opportunity to mend the breach. Dishonouring her death and furthering his betrayal was not something he was interested in. More than that, Boy was his grandchild. He could not in good conscience make a decision that befitted his station. He would speak from his heart alone, and that was not his duty as a Council Mon sworn to protect the land. “My offspring–”

“Thought too much with her heart,” Shukri snapped. “It is why we are in this mess.”

At the insult to their beloved dead, the males tensed.

Daniil glared.

The youngest Raad growled and snarled in affront, whereas the older simply stared at the Eldermon until he blanched and trembled.

“Remain, Council Mon.” Anastasia was gentle as she advised Mikhail. She looked at Sevastyan. “You should stay too. Fight her corner.”

With a polite bow to the males, she slipped through the tense figures awaiting the King’s next command.

Muttering about the whereabouts of his Captain and offspring, Sevastyan moved behind her.

Anastasia spun, and closed the door pointedly behind her.

Sevastyan stared at it longingly. His armoured shoulders slumped.

Dejected, he returned to his seat.

Mikhail hesitated. He lowered himself onto a chair and gripped the armrests. “I will hear this proposition.”

Shukri’s face heighted with colour. “This has nothing-”

“She was my heir,” Mikhail said. “Ryuk inherits that honour. I have the right.”

Koen had said nothing. He turned to his Second, a male he had always considered of his blood. He did not see the battle-brother he knew. “You cannot ask this of me.”

“The time for thinking with your heart is done. Will you stand by the decision to reject the Eldernmoot after they declare war? All for no other reason than to cling to a memory.”

The ghost of his Treasure stood before him. Her eyes begged him not to agree.

Koen closed his eyelids to shut her out. “He is a part of her.”

Daniil cleared his throat. “Eldermon, if we may have time to confer.”

“You have had time,” Shukri said with a weary sigh. “We leave this night, Lord Kol. No more delays. We have our own problems to deal with. Our people need us to return.”

“If you could wait in the apartments across the hall.” Daniil signalled to a guard. “Please.”

The man was led away, no small amount of irritation stamped across his thick features.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Daniil broke the jittery silence. “We will lose, Koen. Look at us. We are divided. Queens do not sit on both thrones, and Aver will have to begin again with Chosen barely fit for the task because of it. If the Mages attack our territories will be overrun.”

Mikhail growled. “So in your panic you seek to sacrifice a youngling?”

“You act as if I send him to certain death. I wish to send him home.”

“This is his home. It could be considered her dying wish we keep him here.

Daniil recoiled. “Do not use her memory so.”

A mean snarl tightened Mikhail’s features. “Do not use her death to forward your own agenda.”

“You think this is easy for me? To close off my heart and speak what is necessary?” Daniil quivered. His anger was palpable. “These last hellish hours I have made myself sick trying to think of a solution that would honour her wishes and not result in our destruction. What did I come up with? Nothing.”

“You expected this to be easy?” Mikahil’s voice brimmed with contempt. “That they would not threaten and harass us into giving them what they want? Shukri picked his moment well.”

Daniil looked pained. “Why? Why do we risk this? Why is this child–”

“Child,” Sevastyan interrupted softly. His sunken eyes blinked slowly, and his face heavily creased with fatigue. “Hear the word you speak. Even during Aver there are laws in place for protection of younglings.”

“Boy is not a descendant of Dragons.”

Many of the other exhausted males muttered in agreement.

Koen’s jaw clenched. To some Dragon Lords blood was all that mattered. It did not matter to them that Boy was family.

He is a Barren One to them, now and always.

“Neither is Cathryn.” Mikhail was livid. “Are you saying she is a potential sacrifice should they demand women for their men? Is nothing Marina left behind of value to you?”

Jakob’s growl rose louder than the rest.

He stood from his leaning position on the wall and stalked closer, eyes promising violence.

“You twist my words,” Daniil grated, watching the silver-eyed male with wary suspicion at his sudden rousing.

“They are already twisted. You are blinded by prejudice.” Mikhail faced Koen. “This discussion is pointless. We cannot give Boy up.”

“Because you consider him yours?” Daniil pushed, his tone bordering disrespect.

Mikhail slammed a fist against his knee. “To give over young regardless of its parentage is wrong.”

“I agree with the Council Mon,” Sevastyan said.

“As do I.” Koen’s chest felt tight. “This is not right.”

“Why?” Daniil demanded. “Because Marina said it was not?”

“Because I feel it is not.” Koen struggled to keep his voice emotionless. He was not ready to fall apart. Not yet. There were betrayers to execute. “He is my offspring.”

“As much as it pains me, no, he is not. He is the bastard of the dead Grand Mage and his only heir. With his accession they will squabble amongst themselves and leave us alone so we may rebuild the bond between Houses that has been severed this night.”

“Then peace shall reign throughout the land, and naked virgins will fall from the skies.” Mikhail’s tone was dry.

Daniil was exasperated. “Skirmishes between fire and ice breathers are inevitable. We are territorial beasts. Do not try and compare battles between ourselves with world war.” He pivoted to face his liege. “Without the child here you will heal. Keeping him will be nothing but a constant reminder of what you lost.”

Heart squeezing, Koen’s eyes closed.

He gripped the edge of his throne for support. The responsibility of his birth crushed him even as the grief of losing his love hollowed his insides.

“Heartless fool,” Sevastyan muttered drunkenly.

“How dare you,” Mikhail snarled after regaining his voice. Anger had shortly robbed him of speech. “To stand before me and speak so callously.”

“There is no time for delicacy. Do you not think I would wallow with you if I could?” Daniil’s eyes blazed and his lips whitened. “I have a responsibility to ensure peace prevails. It is my duty to advise my King, and I will do no less.” Daniil turned to Koen. “You know this must happen. For all our sakes, Koen, decide.”

“Do not do this,” Jakob said. “Do not.”

Daniil spun on him. “Do you have a better solution? No? Then be silent!”

Unable to say the words, Koen Raad closed his eyes.

His world might have shattered, but others lived on. Life went on. He had his vengeance. The innocent need not suffer a war for the love of a ghost.

He jerked his head.

“Say it aloud.” Daniil’s voice at last lost its harshness. “There can be no misunderstanding.”

“Yes,” he hissed. He would lose another part of himself, but no innocents would suffer. His eyes opened and he did not care if they saw his tears. “Give them Ryuk. Let there be peace.”

Defeat slumping every line of his frame, Mikhail gazed upwards sadly. “She will never forgive us. In the afterlife she looks upon us.”

“This was always going to happen,” Daniil said, face haggard. “Even if she lived. It was a matter of time.”

The old male aged centuries in that moment. “She sees us.” Shaking his head, he covered his face. “She will never forgive.”

A chill made them shiver.

The doors slammed open, and Regent Myron burst into the room. Seeing the edgy group lurking the shadows, he reined his panic, and lifted his chin. “What is happening? The Eldernmoot is across the hall instead of guarded in the upper levels. Shukri is all but frothing at the mouth. The male is rabid.”

A quietly worried Council Mon Isaak followed him. The Dragon Council leader had cloaked his beast in human form to walk among the general populace without adding to the frenzy.

“The decision has been made to return Prince Ryuk Noor to his people,” explained Daniil.

Myron stared blankly, shocked, and then narrowed his eyes.

The Regent’s golden robes swept about him as he strode deeper into the shadowy room. Soft-soled feet whispered quickly across the hard floor. Beads of sweat gathered on his temples, and his customarily groomed hair was knotted, the long white stands tangled about his aged face and shoulders. “Koen Raad. Attend me. Is this true? You have given the youngling up?”

Looking out into the courtyard, Koen remembered his Treasure training.

She skilfully swung her Bo and laughed heartily when she managed to land a blow on Daniil. She looked up, saw him watching, and blew him a kiss.

The vision was blown away with the smoke tinted winds.

Disenchanted, Koen faced his mentor. The accusation and disappointment he heard from the male was anticipated. “It is, and yes I have.” His hand waved listlessly. “Everything else of value has been stripped from me. Why not him?”

“Think about what you are doing.”

“Advice? It is ignored.” He retuned to staring at the starry sky. “Until I have rooted out those who betrayed me, I am of no use to you.”

“There is looting and rioting in the streets.” The announcement cut the low murmur of conversation rimming the chamber. “Guards are abandoning their posts. Palaces that have stood for generations are being burnt to the ground.”

“I noticed.” Koen spoke evenly his attention never wavering.

He stared out the window into the smoky night. He had given these people everything. His life, his love and now the only offspring claimed as his own.

What more is there to give? Have I not sacrificed enough?

Streets were on fire. Gangs of people roamed the maze of pathways. The market place was a seething mob of violently thrashing bodies. Screams were frequent, and the bellow of angry accusations rose in a thunderous clamour.

The unrest was oddly soothing to the monster lurking in his heart.

Koen Raad spared a glance over his shoulder at the sound of agitated voices.

Sevastyan’s offspring passionately argued with Daniil. His tremulous, stuttering voice rose in protest when his Sire violently shook his head.

Face stony, Daniil signalled to a guard.

The struggling youngling was escorted bodily from the room.

Koen ignored the scuffle and trained his fracturing attention on Myron. “What concern is so great, old one,” he asked, “that you would bother me?”

Myron spluttered. So great was his distress, he rocked unsteadily on his heels. Isaak steadied him with a hand to his elbow. “Boy, you vex me. Impudent, whelp. Ask me what my concern is will you?” His arms lifted aggressively, baring his front in challenge. “Our society tears at the seams. People are terrified. They call for you. You do nothing but sit here until you hear word of where anyone from House Ja and Tyr hide.” Yanking free of the Council Mon’s grip, Myron scuttled forward. His cheeks puffed as he laboured to breathe. “Then you set out to murder whole households in cold blood. You have the gall to ask what my concern is?”

Satisfaction coiled in Koen’s gut. Let them feel pain. “They know my wrath.”

“You are King. Your place is out there calming the people, grieving with them. Not inciting panic and encouraging a violent frenzy.”

“My people have a right to express their anger with their Courts.”

“Pah.” Disgusted, the Regent spat. “You know it more than that. They love you.” He jabbed a crooked finger to the window. The sounds of anarchy raged. “They do this for you. They do this because the entire Kingdom feels your hurt, but it is wrong, Koen. With riots such as these come consequences. Females are being ravaged in the gutters, younglings beaten within an inch of their lives. Innocent males strung up from the battlements.”

“All direct descendants of Houses Ja and Tyr.” Koen crossed his arms and rest his boot on the lower dais step. “I made a vow to Lord Tyr that I would wipe his bloodline from the face of the earth. I keep my vows.”

“Tyr and Ja are two of the largest houses in Tzion,” Myron thundered. “You speak of slaughtering hundreds for the crime of one corrupted female and her demented Sire.”

“Many knew of their plans,” Koen said dismissively.

He thought of Artur Tyr’s wife. There was little doubt in his mind she had known what her husband and offspring had plotted. A split second away from burning her alive, he’d looked into her frightened eyes, remembered the bottomless depths of Marina’s compassion, and the power of that memory alone had stayed his judgment. The woman had fled shrieking into the night. She might have known about her husband’s plotting, but what could she have done to stop it?

Koen wondered if they all deserved the same benefit of doubt. He crushed the thought. He was a hard male with a harder heart.

Myron clapped his hands together. “I command you to come back to yourself.”

Coolly dispassionate, Koen studied him. The organ miraculously still beating in his chest festered. The burning ache spread through his limbs and poisoned his voice. “What would you have me do?”

“I would have the male I know rise up and end this madness.” Myron shook. His wrinkled hands clutched his ceremonial dress in a white-knuckled grip. The coverings were the same from the day before. Bravura silk was dirtied. Blood smears and a mud soaked hem showed the male had not hidden in the Citadel. He had been out amongst the rabble trying his best to calm them. The Fire Kingdom officially remained his charge until Anastasia’s coronation. Myron would give everything to save it, as was his duty and honour.

Duty and honour, I had them both. Koen wished he could burn the words to ash. Where have they gotten me?

“I would have you grieve for the love you have lost,” Myron continued, sensing a crack in the emotional barren inside the traumatized male before him. “The longer you run from the pain the worse it will be. Let me help you.”

Koen’s mouth wrenched open to frigidly deliver his response. Anguish choked from his throat. The cry strengthened into a harsh bellow of pain that grew terrible in its strength.

He lifted his gilded throne and hurled it across the room.

Dragon Lords scattered as it crashed into the wall.

He spun and drove his fist into the wall, punching past solid rock. Useless. The blow did nothing to lessen the hurt.

Turning, his shoulders slammed into the wall, ripping a tapestry depicting the legends of Dragon Kings before him.

Light-headed, he leaned over. His hands landed on his knees and he gripped them tightly, breathing stunted. He stared unseeing at the stone floor.

Emotion built behind his eyes, a steady pressure that made his teeth ache.

“I do not want help,” he said coldly.

His insides were empty at their core. An unappeasable ache gnawed at his sanity.

“I want nothing from you – from any of you.” His voice shook as he whispered. “I want her.” Agony ripped through him and he clutched at his chest. “I want my Treasure.” He panted and squeezed his eyes shut. “I need her back.” His head jerked up and he glared at Daniil. His voice lowered to a vehement rush. “You brought her here. You made me believe she could do this.”

Trembling, Daniil turned his head.

He closed his eyes and extended his hand, as if to ward off a blow.

Tears wet his cheeks, and his beaded warrior braids swung as he slowly nodded, because he would not deny his culpability.

Koen wrenched his gaze away.

He was unable to withstand seeing pain so closely resembling his own. His anger knew no bounds, knew only blame.

He pinned Council Mon Isaak to the spot. “You let her enter Aver to get your way.”

“She was your chosen one. She requested the chance to honour you.” Isaak’s voice was strained, but firm. “A Princess of this land returned home the beloved of our leader.” His hands opened, insistent. “How could we deny her?”

Koen snarled. “Do not make this seem as if no blame lies on your shoulders.”

The Council Mon deeply bowed his head. “I stand before you on behalf the brothers that served this land as you do now. Know we mourn with you.” His head lifted then, his light green eyes dark with endless feeling, an understanding that went beyond mere words. “Remember we have felt your pain. Its depth will never lessen, but the intensity fades. You learn to live again. This I know.”

Koen lunged.

Nikolai shifted into his path and the two collided.

Koen did not try to push past, but glared balefully over his sibling’s shoulder. “You have decades of memories – years of loving your Treasure. I barely have a moon tide. You know nothing of what I feel.”

“Brother,” Nikolai rasped, gripping his neck. “Brother, I beg you stop. This does no good.”

“And you.” Koen’s hands closed into fists. “You swore to protect her, to be her guardian. It was your duty to keep them off her. How could you fail me?”

The accusation throbbed between them.

Koen knew it was not fair, but if life were fair, his Treasure would stand before him. She would be wrapped in his embrace. Safe. Her lips would press his, and her warmth would caress his skin.

No, life is not fair. Even a King is subject to its cruellest whims.

Koen stared at his brother and hated him. “How could you fail her?”

Nikolai’s face folded. He shielded his eyes with his palm. His other rested on his hip as his shoulders shook.

Finally, he moved back until shadows cloaked his suffering with a measure of privacy.

“I am worst of all.” Koen rubbed his throat, his chest, his mouth. He could not accept it. The grief was unbearable. “I should never have given in. I should have taken her back to the human dimension myself and left her there.” Moisture dried unheeded upon his cheeks. His eyes turned flinty. “I killed the only female who truly loved me. The female destined to be mine.”

“Koen....” Daniil rasped brokenly.

“Quiet.” Sevastyan did not raise his head. He peered into his goblet. “Nothing we say will help.”

“But it must be said. The Regent is right.” Daniil struggled to modulate his voice and fix his tortured expression. “What we do here is wrong. It is unhealthy. No more. The people need guidance. Their Lords will turn from darkness and give it to them until their King is fit to lead them again.”

“Get out,” Koen said flatly.

Marina’s ghost gazed sadly at him.

Her dark pupils transformed to Dragon slits and wisps of smoke billowed from her parted lips. Her clothes were torn and charred. Her moonglow skin was smudged with black ash.

Strangely, scales rippled over her exposed flesh and blue blood was smeared across her cuts. Movement haunting, as if she moved under water, she reached to touch him. Her skin set alight in a rainbow of crimson and silver.

Caught in a terrible wind her hair streamed towards the heavens, ablaze, rising with the heat. Her eyes were caverns of molten lava – empty of life and soul.

Brimstone poured from her screaming mouth.

Koen’s fingers dug into his skull.

I am going mad.

“All of you. Get out.” The words were the roar of his Dragon as scales erupted across his skin. Flames flicked at the seam of his lips, and his eyes were crazed pools of death.

The room emptied.

Flayed souls and bruised pride made for uneasy company, yet the room felt more oppressive as each beleaguered male ghosted from sight.

Koen’s nostrils flared.

A sole scent remained to intrude upon his seclusion.

He wanted to be alone with his Treasure’s ghost.

Maddened, he turned to face the male his beloved had valued enough to elevate from his disgraced House.

Jakob prowled forward.

He held his head high, fully aware as Marina’s Second he had a right not only to partake in vengeance, but to lead the hunt.

His unique eyes overflowed with sorrow the closer he advanced. “I could claim the right to avenge her.”

Koen tensed.

He allowed the lesser male to feel a meagre wisp of the fury he leashed. “Oh?”

Jakob surprised him then by bowing his head and taking a knee. “I do not ask that you bow your head to grieve. I do not ask that you cease in your punishment.” His head lifted. His eyes frosted into brittle ice. “They deserve more pain than imaginable.”

“Go away.”

“Use me.”

“I do not need them. What pride makes you think I need you?” Koen jerked a hand toward the door. “Leave me. I am done with this place, and its people.”

Jakob didn’t hesitate to disobey the command. He remained stooped, determined to do what he could for the fallen sister of his heart. “Our enemy is concealed.”

“My enemy has scattered into the dark corners of this land like roaches. The fire in my soul will burn them out.”

Jakob locked eyes with his King. “She spoke of you to me. That her love was taken from you will haunt me. There can never be justice. There will never be a balancing on the scales for what they took.”

Koen stilled.

His ghostly Treasure touched his cheek and rubbed her thumb across his lips.

He blinked rapidly, and his fists clenched. “You understand.” He rubbed his constricted throat and stared past the male at the phantom of his love.

Finding this miniscule thread of compassion soothed rather than sickened him. The sorrow of Daniil, Nikolai and the Regent was suffocating. But the Dragon Lord who knelt before him, his misery was a raw, blackened thing that matched Koen’s own.

Jakob’s exhalation ended with a shudder. “In lieu of justice there will be vengeance.” They locked gazes. “They hide where I can follow. I will deliver them to you.”

Head jerking a nod, Koen reached to touch his Treasure’s face. His fingers curled around nothing but chilled air.

She disappeared.

Koen Raad turned to the window and searched for solace as the Fire Kingdom burned.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Unrest plagued the city. Women sobbed, children hid, and men pillaged and plundered. Carts and stalls were overturned, garden produce trampled in the mud.

The twilight sky was bruised dark as unseasonal rain drenched the land, turning the dusty streets into muddy pits that sucked at your feet.

Exiting the Citadel from a rarely used side door near the main gates, Viktor used his arm to shield his face from the downpour. He looked wildly about. He spotted a familiar guard from the Citadel restoring order at the tip of his katana as Dragon Men strived to keep looters at bay.

“Captain Andrei! Captain!”

The grey-haired man turned at the urgent cry of his name. His features tightened in shock. Calling out an order, he gave over command to his Lieutenant. “My Lord, what are you doing here?” As he advanced, his eyes darted about. “Where is your guard?” He grabbed the boy. Rain dripped off the end of his bloodied nose. His kind eyes were wide and anxious. “Where is your Sire? Why are you without protection? The streets are filled with vagabonds who will slit the throat of a lordling to brag they had the opportunity.”

“My Sire flies with the King. I need to find Lord Jakob of House Lin.”

“What need have you of that snake-tailed thug?”

“He is the High Princess’ Second.”

“Bah.” The Captain spat in the mud. “She anointed him in good faith, and see how he behaves mere hours after she joins her ancestors? Fell right back in with his devious brother Maksim. I saw them earlier, skulking around, scouting out rich merchants to rob.” Andrei shook his head. “Keep far from Jakob, my Lord. Bad blood is bad blood.”

A rowdy group of drunken men pushed past the ring of outer guards. They cawed obscenities, chanted for blood. Wafts of unwashed bodies and stale wine intermingled with the sharp scent of sulphur, and wet, mineral-laden rock.

The fight moved inside the Citadel courtyard. The rough-looking citizens used wooden clubs and crude, blunted swords.

Petrified, but resolved to his mission, Viktor gripped the man’s stained tunic. The Regent’s golden crest was a starburst on grime-smeared fabric. “Captain, please?” Where is he? It is important.”

Andrei swore virulently. “I cannot order you to return inside, nor can I stand in your way. It is not my place.” His forehead crumpled. “It is Lords like you and your Sire that deserve our protection. You cannot go alone. Not only would your Sire never forgive me, I would never forgive myself should you come to harm.” Loathed to leave his post, he watched the mob be beaten back outside the gates. His Lieutenant bellowed orders and fortified the buckling barrier with wooden beams. “I will take you to him.”

They made their way through the murky, despoiled streets, keeping to the outer edges of the labyrinth like warren to evade the roving bandits who took advantage of the anarchy, causing destruction and havoc in an uprising typically quelled by the Dragon King.

Andrei led him to a part of the city the Dragon Lords avoided unless they wanted to engage brutes or whores. The place was deserted. The unsavoury characters already streamed towards the vulnerable Citadel, causing mischief on the journey.

“Most likely find him in there.” Andrei pointed to a dilapidated stone building. “It is one of the better taverns Dragon Lords frequent when coming here. I will–”

A female scream from the alleyway opposite, and the sounds of male jeering had the man rushing forward.

His need to protect and defend was an inherent and powerful thing.

Andrei spun, torn by indecision.

He stared at Viktor while listening to the victim’s cries of suffering.

“G-Go,” Viktor stammered. “I will be fine. I can call on my Dragon to protect me. That female cannot. Go.”

Andrei nodded firmly then took off running.

A little overwhelmed, but determined, Viktor pushed into the dank tavern. It reeked. The space was little better than squalor. Rotting food and tart, unspent arousal hung pungent in the air, and stuck at the back of his throat. His stomach roiled. He could barely see the other end of the place. A handful of short candles were lit, and with the low ceiling, the corners were cloaked in sinister shadows.

He remained on the fringe of the room, shuffling across the potholed wooden planks towards the unclean, stooped figures haunting the place.

Viktor passed a grunting, panting mass of bodies rutting in the corner.

He averted his eyes, blushing.

His Sire would be livid when he discovered the danger his heir dodged instead of being safeguarded in the upper fort levels with the rest of the gentry.

A length of silver hair caught his eye. He minced closer – drawn by the familiar face. Relief poured through him, his search at an end. He was sure the shuffling footsteps behind him followed his progress around the room. Patiently waiting until he reached a dark corner.

Chills ripped up and down his scalp.

Just as Andrei said, he found Marina’s Second in the company of men known to be the lowest thugs for hire.

Stopping, Viktor mentally paused. Who else is there to turn to? He is oath sworn to advise and protect her. Throwing his shoulders back, he approached the table. He halted. Viktor tried not to look as afraid as he felt in the presence of the ruffians.

The Dragon Lord’s icy pale eyes rolled up. Narrowed almost imperceptibly then cleared. He impassively nodded his head in greeting, distracted by the hushed conversation happening between two males on the other side of the table.

Viktor could not guess what the male was thinking or doing. “L-Lord Jakob,” he stuttered. “May I speak with you?”

The Dragon Lord double blinked. He took in the youngling’s sweaty, sooty appearance. His eyes moved beyond to the doorway then flashed with concern.

“You are alone,” he murmured.

Viktor nodded.

Jakob frowned, standing. “What are you about coming here?” He slid a cautious look at the shady males, who had turned, and now listened. “Run along.”

“But I found ... I think I found....” Viktor trailed off when a man he knew was Jakob’s brother eyed him evilly as his thuggish companion whispered in his ear. “This is a private matter. Please come with me.” Too scared to see if he followed, Viktor fled, ashamed his fear of these brutish men got the better of him.

Fresh air bathed his face when he exited the tavern. He sucked some down with deep, revitalizing gulps. He was hauled back, a broad palm clamping over his lower face to smother his shriek.

Jakob dragged him back into the shadow of the building away from the door. “Here is fine. What are you thinking coming here? Do you have any idea what would have happened to you if...?” His gaze sharpened. “Do you have a message from our King?”

“What?” Heart still thumping after thinking he was about to die, Viktor’s eyes widened. Jakob’s presence in this place began to make more sense. He was under orders. “No. This is far more important.”

The Dragon Lord’s eyebrow cocked. “I will be the judge of that.”

Viktor licked his lips, nervously looked around. “I found her,” he whispered.

“Who?”

Trembling with the need to get this secret out, Viktor leaned closer, his voice breaking under stress. “The High Princess. Marina. She is alive.”

The Dragon Lord became stone. Astonishment warred with distrust until his features smoothed into a blank mask.

Jakob bit back a coarse oath.

His heart soared jubilant at news Marina lived. He saw her as his sister, and who knew one could develop such affection for a sibling? His own blood brother was insufferable.

The notion Marina was alive filled him with hope and joy.

“Truth?”

“I swear on my soul.” Viktor’s face turned pleading. He wrung his hands. “You must believe me.”

Jakob’s slack expression hardened with purpose in an instant. His Queen was alive, and she needed him.

And she was Queen – by default alone.

Viktor was not the kind to tell a lie, and he was young enough that his training had not instilled the value of indifference when dealing with other Dragon Lords.

Jakob read the youngling’s sincerity like a book.

“Where?” he demanded.

“I found her in a lava flow up in the mountains. I was upset. I ran from my guard and ended up close to the quest trail.” He bit his lip when his lisp and stutter got worse, as he was rushing to get it all out. He breathed. He consciously made the effort to slow his speech. “I did not do much. It was the wild dragoness Marina saved during her first quest that led me to her. I found her there trying to get up.” His hands flapped in worried flurries. “She was covered in crusted magma.”

“Chosen with the ability to withstand submersion in lava is tremendously rare.”

As rare as those who could survive being frozen then thawed.

Jakob struggled not to get too excited. If there were ever a Chosen to be so blessed it would be Marina. How she must be suffering. He wondered at the hideousness if her burns. Her skin must have melted and reformed into something truly grotesque.

But she was alive!

How long will she be with us?

Did it matter? She may not have much time left, but for his King to have the chance to say goodbye to his Treasure....

“You are certain?” Jakob demanded harshly.

The boy nodded, frantic. “She spoke to me.”

“We must be quick. She will not survive long with such extensive burns. Where on the mountain did you say? How long since you found her?”

“I found her after the eruption. So–”

“What? That was hours ago. What the hells have you been doing all this time? She must be in agonizing pain. Dying. What in the name of the Goddess are you playing at?”

Viktor’s mouth opened then closed. He blinked in shock then looked utterly wretched. “I am not explaining w-well. She s-survived the lava. S-S-she-e i-i-iis...” His lashes fluttered as his tongue twisted and tied itself into knots. “I-It is-s...” His chest jerked as he tried to control his panic. Stopping, he breathed deeply, closing his eyes. When they opened, he was more focused and his voice was calmer. “It is not that simple. Y-You will think it unbelievable and me m-mad.” Anxious, he waved Jakob closer. “She is one of u-us.”

Brow furrowing, Jakob studied the youngling. He was flushed and glassy eyed. The last day and night had been horrific. Perhaps he cracked under the pressure and was no longer sound of mind.

Jakob’s heart sank.

Perhaps the youngling only thought he found the Princess.

“I do not understand.”

“Marina is a Dragon,” Viktor blurted, crystal clear, not a lisp or stutter in sight.

Jakob’s mind blanked. He sucked in a breath and gripped the hilt of his katana. The breath released in a hiss. “A Dragon Lady?” He scowled, his grip on his weapon tightening. “Youngling, this is no time for sick jokes. Men are grieving. If the King were to overhear you–”

“I hid her in the mountain pass.” Worried the male would turn and leave Viktor grabbed his sleeve. “A cave. I took her to a cave, and used my fangs to chew off the scoria. She needs help. Now. She will fade, Jakob. I think this was her first time shifting. I remember my first. I was completely drained and disorientated. Father had to force me to change back into human before I forgot how.” Slashes of hot colour flared across his cheeks and temples. He was completely mortified to be confessing he possessed greater weakness than his speech problems. “I could not shift with ease from one form to another for many years. I think she has forgotten her human self. Maybe she does not how to change back. She has had no guide.” He shrugged helplessly. “Either way, she needs help.”

Jakob saw the youngling believed what he said.

He sighed gustily. “Are you sure you have not stumbled across some wild dragon female?”

Viktor looked frustrated. “It is Marina.” His stressed face tuned redder as his emotions bubbled and boiled over. “She spoke to my mind. Look into her eyes and you will know it too.”

“Maybe you imagined–”

“No! She spoke. I know it is her. I know.”

Jakob opened his mouth and then a memory struck him.

The scale.

He remembered the intense look in Marina’s eye when she handed him the black dragon scale after her second quest. He recalled the blush that rose to her cheeks when he told her it was beautiful.

The day before her third quest she had refused training.

Instead, she descended into the bowels of the Citadel to visit the archives, much his confusion, only re-emerging to scamper off to AshMount muttering about visiting Council Mon Leonid, an ancient Dragon, the last Phoenix to have produced offspring with his Treasure.

And he had held a female dragon scale.

Surely it cannot be.

“Why come to me?” Jakob asked in as neutral a voice as possible. His mind raced as it pieced together other strange things he had noticed about the High Princess but dismissed. “Why did you not seek out the King?” Then he remembered the youngling had come to the throne room kicking up a fuss and had been escorted away. His heart kicked painfully as he realized no one had listened. “You-”

“Yes, I tried.” Viktor balled his hands into fists, angry at his original failure to get his cousin help. “I could not get near the King, or Council Mon Zar. Lord Kol listened, as I am from a House in the Wyvrae Court, and Marina named us kin.” Pride infused his voice as he spoke, and his back straightened. The bluster left him with his next words. He slouched, his face forlorn. “He threw me to the guards when I told him. My Sire did not even believe me. He was drunk! I was thrown back into my House apartments and left to await Captain Vadik.” His eyes were sad. “They believed I mocked her death.”

“A healer.” Jakob dragged a hand through his silver mane, his mind racing. “The Mage, Khan, would never follow me to such a place with such a tale, and I know nothing of how to tend a Dragon female. I do not know her people well enough for them to trust me either. They accepted my presence because she forced them. They couldn’t wait to get rid of me after she was pronounced lost.” He lowered his voice. “I am here to spy for the King, but he does not truly believe what I learn will be of worth. I am likely to get the same reaction as you if I tell them this story, if not worse.”

“She appointed you her Second. She trusted you.” Viktor met the other male’s gaze squarely. “Each second I waste is a moment she comes closer to fading. I thought you would know what to do. Please. You do not even have to truly believe, just help me.” His eyes watered. “Please. I cannot fail her.”

Jakob’s mind was cast back to the throne room.

The Dragon King had looked about him and asked how they could have failed her.

Incredulous, Jakob scrubbed a hand over his face.

Am I a fool?

He could not brush the youngling aside. If there was a chance Marina was alive, he wanted to help. Viktor had not lied when he said she – for some reason – trusted him, and anointed him the position of her advisor so he could be to her what Lord Kol was to the Dragon King.

Here I stand wavering when she may need me. If there is the slightest of chances that she is alive....

Gaze sharpening, he scanned the derelict locale for onlookers.

Jakob drew the angst-ridden youngling deeper into the shadow of the decrepit hostelry. “Take me to her.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

Jakob was a strong male. He’d been through hell, and kept a piece of it for his own. He dealt with life’s challenges as they came, and never truly expected things to turn out right.

As he stared at the horned Dragoness reclining on a bed of dry leaves, his world began anew.

He believed.

“Marina?”

The Dragoness blinked, her dark, crystalline orbs glimmering with intelligence. She tossed her head, and her slender maw cracked in what Jakob swore was a grin.

Barking a laugh, he slapped a hand to his forehead and paced.

Spun to her and ordered, “Shift back.”

She yawned, flashing ivory fangs and then lowered her snout onto her foreclaws. She looked at him haughtily, as if to say, ‘Already tried that. Dumbass.’

A hacking cough wracked her frame. Her whole hide seemed to shudder and convulse.

She turned her head to lethargically spew a puddle of brimstone onto the cool ground. When it was done, she grumbled, and rolled onto her side, leathery wings slapping at her underbelly as if it ached.

Jakob noticed the savaged remains of some jungle creature – blood, bones, spittle, and fur.

Maybe she had heartburn?

“She keeps doing that,” Viktor said, wringing his hands. “I think it is because she was submerged in the magma for so long. He paused thoughtfully. “She looks much better than before. Her breathing is better, she ate the meat I hunted, and she is moving about.”

“That can only be a good thing.” Jakob was relieved. He had no idea how to safely fetch a healer, so if she mended on her own, it meant there was a good chance he could keep this situation contained, giving him time to reason out what steps to take next.

Foremost, he needed to get the Dragon King back on this mountain. Telling the male the truth would result in getting his head ripped off. The best and quickest way to lure him in was with a lie. Easy enough, he thought optimistically. He would tell Koen Raad he uncovered intelligence of Ja refugees hiding in the very cave his Treasure hid in.

The hard part would be convincing him the mute dragoness was his supposedly dead mate.

Surely, the male would know? Wouldn’t he sense his beloved stood before him, even if she had done the impossible and shifted into dragonskin?

“Jakob?” Calling out, a white-haired Dragon Lord with an enormously handsome face hovered at the cave threshold.

He peered in, but went no further. He knew better than to enter. Wild ones did not tolerate their lairs being invaded. He looked around in confusion. He was not sure where he was, or what was up here in the wilderness that would have drawn his kin’s interest.

“What are you doing up here, Jak?”

“Maksim?” Jakob rushed out of the cave. He stared at his brother in shock. “What the hells are you...?” His face blanked, blackened with resentment. Nostrils flaring, his fists clenched. “You followed me.”

“Well, yes. You acted strangely. First, you say you are sick of being a criminal then leave to go live in the Citadel as that runty Chosen’s lap dog. Days later you return and say you are no longer welcome by her people and want in on my plans.” The man sounded put out, but not truly irate or suspicious. “Then you disappear again when things start to get good. What are you...?”

He trailed off when Viktor ran out to see what was going on. He jerked to a stop and looked between them anxiously.

“Go back inside,” Jakob ordered without turning.

Viktor looked nervously over his shoulder. “Um....”

Maksim grabbed Jakob’s arm. “Stop fooling around with younglings.” He slid his brother a queer look that said, ‘Whatever does it for you. Who am I to judge?’ “Come with me. There is not much time. I have a plan that will fix our problems for life.”

Shaking himself loose, Jakob took in his elder sibling’s edgy, excited posture. “What are you talking about?”

Smirking nastily, Maksim waggled his eyebrows. “I grabbed us a once-in-a-dynasty opportunity, little brother.”

“I am not interested–”

“An assassination attempt on a royal,” Maksim continued quickly. “Not just any royal. The royal.”

It took a moment, but when he reasoned out what the words alluded to Jakob blanched. “Koen Raad,” he whispered. “You speak of killing the Dragon King.”

“It is perfect,” Maksim bragged. “The King is mad with grief, and he suspects nothing.” He rubbed his hands together. “So much coin, Jak. I have never seen the like. Sure, it is for the Ja bitch, but I could not turn her down when she slammed four chests of gold on the table, and announced the successful assassin may take what he wished. I decided we have an advantage because of your recent post.”

Feet fused to the ground, overt horror tore through Jakob as his brother gushed the insidious plan.

“The contract has been picked up by two others,” explained Maksim, blithe. “Most balked when they learned the target was the King, but we have an in. The Citadel Guard trusts you? You can still get into the upper levels of the fortress as the High Princess’ Second, can you not?”

A cavernous roar cracked the air in two and shook the cave so hard the rock walls fractured, raining shingle and dust upon them.

Staggered by what he heard, Viktor’s eyes opened wide at the sound.

He stuttered, “Uh oh.”

It descended as a haze of red smoke. Bloody mist. Rage blanketed Marina until she felt the tenuous control she held whilst in dragonskin burst. The chains of reason fell from her as if snapping twine.

The roar formed at the pit of her soul, oozed into her stomach, rumbled through her body then exploded from her snout with such force pebbles on the ground shook.

She felt her prey’s fear.

Smelt his stink pollute the very air she breathed.

Heard his heart still then surge in a rapid tempo she planned to make his screams match.

The Dragoness was all emotion, black rage, and white-hot aggression. She wanted to burn something, anything, to the ground. Flesh needed to be shredded from bone by her claws, and oh, she hoped he ran. The chase called to her. A seductive crooning that both teased and soothed.

As she prowled from the darkness, Maksim tripped backwards, dragging a fast talking Jakob with him.

Had her Second known of what his brother planned?

She growled viciously.

White-faced, Viktor shrank back.

Backing up steadily, Jakob’s hands raised, palms facing outward. “I did not know. I suspected he was in something deep, but I would have stopped him.” Head lowering in submission, his deep voice quavered. “Please. He is fool, but he is all I have left of my kin.”

Family ties did not matter to the beast.

Maksim would burn. Freeze. Be torn into bloody shreds. The Dragoness would accept no less.

Aware words would be of no use, Viktor courageously rushed forward to tug frantically on Jakob’s arm, urging him out of the way to leave Maksim to his fate.

“We must get Council Mon Mikhail,” Viktor babbled. “He will listen. I think. He will know how to help. He is strong enough to stop–”

Rearing back, Marina felt the hot churn broiling her throat, and instinctively snapped her jaws wide to release a torrid blue flame that scorched the earth and rolled towards Maksim.

Jakob dove right.

Viktor dropped and rolled.

A swirl of brilliant light, Maksim shifted, but was clipped by the blast, and sent tumbling off the precipice verge.

Flat on his belly, Jakob stared in horror. “Marina! No!”

Skidding to a stop at the edge of the gully, Marina hooked her claws into the ledge. She craned her elongated neck over to peer down into the mist.

Caught in her peripheral vision, she became vaguely aware of Viktor flying in the direction of the Red Citadel.

Faster than sight, Maksim soared into the sky, knocking Marina’s shoulder and sending her sprawling.

He banked hard and sped inland.

Rolling onto her paws, wings snapping open, Marina crouched then sprung fearlessly into the abyss. Freefalling. The world rotated like a gyroscope, with her as the spin axis. Volcano, jungle, abyss, sky, volcano, jungle, abyss, sky. Cold wind and salty mist enveloped her body. The sheer walls of the valley were solid smudges of maroon, and the abyss rushed up to swallow her whole. Strangely, her wings felt like another pair of arms that had skin stretched between the jointed fingers. She could feel the bones moving in sync, feel the way air tugged and pushed on the membranes.

The winds caught hold, lifted her up... and tossed her about, shook her roughly then sent her into a spine-twisting whirl that made her dizzy, because, implausibly, flying well took a tremendous amount of dexterity attained through months of training.

She flexed her wing forelimbs, and pulled out of it. Marina stubbornly fought the air tides to correct her trajectory and fly straight. The fundamentals were innate, and when she angled her wings down, the air rushed over, exerted force, and she lifted.

After another false start – a heart-stopping vertical drop where she forgot she actually had wings that flapped – she sliced through the air seeking for her quarry.

Hands bracketing his mouth, Jakob yelled at her to return.

She barely heard him over the wind, and the beat of her own heart and wings.

A peppery scent drifted past.

Instinct took over then she was belly down, soaring towards her prey.

Breaking in mid-air, Maksim somersaulted and spewed ice in her face.

Blue splinters coming at her.

Eyes snapping closed, Marina yelped, and dropped in altitude. Jagged icicles bounced off her hide. Slivers speared the sensitive flesh under her scales. It hurt. Her skin prickled, but she shook of the biting cold that would have disabled a fire breather.

She plunged after him as he straightened his tail, tucked his wings, and dived.

Locked on his trail, she mimicked, followed.

There was no comprehension of where she was. The screams of the people below were lost as she closed the distance.

Maksim rolled onto his back, ready to spit more ice. He jerked. Two tons of enraged Dragoness was on his ass.

Eyes wild with the thrill of catching her prey, Marina latched on.

Claws cut past pearly scale, sank into flesh and hooked in. Teeth bit into the leathery skin of a corded neck, and a bladed-tail looped over another, thicker limb.

Locked together they spiralled and plummeted.

The battling Dragons crashed head first into the demolished bazaar, destroying carts, stalls, and scattering the few merchants that dared remain to protect their wares during the pillaging.

Earth erupted either side of their mass in twin waves of wet soil, and when they stopped, a tapered groove twenty-shaku wide was left in their wake.

With a masculine snort, Maksim pushed the dazed Dragoness off.

He gained his paws snarling.

Rocking onto her belly, Marina lowered her snout and hissed.

Maksim snapped his jaws, blowing cold air over her horns until they frosted at the tips.

Marina shook off the icicles and lunged aiming for this throat. She missed, her fangs grazing his tough hide, but her claws sunk deep and gouged bloody furrows in his side.

He roared in agony, violently bucking to shake her loose.

His tail lashed and scraped her side.

Pain exploded from the cut. Instead of backing off, her beast went mad, digging her claws and fangs deeper, wanting blood, needing to feel this Dragon bleed dry of life.

Something warm and strong coiled around her sore hind leg, and yanked. She was dragged back, lifted, slammed into the ground, and then rolled over with a rough flick. Cross-eyed, she watched the deadly point of a tail sail towards her eyeball, recognized the inimitable shape of the knifelike spike, and felt an absurd kind of happiness detonate within her breast.

Another blocked the fatal blow, wrapping around it, wrenching it brutally until she swore she heard something snap.

Roaring, Dragon King Koen Raad reared back.

A silver Dragon crashed into Marina. They mashed together and skidded through the mud. Covering her protectively, the silver-scaled Dragon spread his wings and snarled with single-minded ferocity.

Scared to the point of incoherency, Viktor released Koen Raad’s tail. Jakob had successfully shoved his cousin from harm’s way, and he was moments from being roasted alive by an enraged Phoenix.

He retreated, edging toward the Dragon Lord protecting the High Princess. He bared his fangs and growled viciously despite his Dragon’s smaller stature.

A sapphire Dragon landed.

Heaving flanks brushing, seething, Daniil and Koen advanced on the lesser Dragons. Their energy intensified into roiling black clouds of anger.

Mikhail descended into the gulf between them. His tail thrashed and cracked like a whip, forcing distance between the ranks. ‘Hold.’ His mental voice boomed throughout their minds. ‘Enough.’

‘Move.’ Koen’s snarl was barely intelligible.

Rather than submit, Mikhail snapped his jaws. His spiked tail gouged a deep furrow in the soil. ‘Back away.’

‘That wild one is out of control.’ Daniil's voice was more controlled, but even he sounded furious. ‘They know not to come here, know not to attack in our territory. The dragoness is mad. She must be put down.’

‘Viktor has spoken to me of this female.’ Smoke billowed from Mikhail’s nose. His eyes flashed with worry. There was protectiveness, a hesitation that was pronounced in his manner. ‘Council Mon Leonid has come from AshMount to speak with us.’

Daniil eased back in confusion.

‘I will see to the female’s care,’ Mikhail finished firmly. ‘Be gone. Leonid waits in the throne room. I will join you later.’

Unnoticed, Maksim scrambled up from the crook he hid in then took silently to the skies.

Horns angled forward, Koen Raad crouched in preparation of a pounce. ‘This is our duty, Council Mon.’

‘Think you that I, one who lost his Treasure, do not know what you feel? That you crave violence soothe the beast?’ Mikhail snorted, contemptuous. ‘You would take your pain out on this creature?’

Blood cooling, Daniil appeared suitably ashamed.

Prowling, hackles raised, Koen advanced. All bloodthirsty, and bunched muscles as he prepared to go for the older Phoenix’s throat.

Flattened under the silver male, Marina trembled. Fury leeched from her body at the sight of her mate. The otherness purred, and the overpowering wildness of its spirit dimmed. Her original shape anchored this new terrible form into existence.

With this knowledge came the understanding of how to expand past it, and contain it. She pushed past the scales, fangs, and claws to become a swirl of brilliant, kaleidoscope light.

When she looked down, she was naked on all fours. Her bloodied fingers burrowed into the muck, and her bruised skin was covered in filth. Cold wind buffeted her bare ass and made her nipples harden. Her mouth was full of ash. It tasted bitter. Her chest constricted, her lungs convulsed, and she vomited flecks of glowing ember. The cinders tasted worse than the ash. They burned her throat coming up too, and when her stomach grumbled and dropped, she made an absurd vow to never again to defecate. Ever. Her ankle throbbed, and she was sure there was fur and gristle between her teeth.

Blinking slowly, Marina had a moment of blind panic.

What if she hadn’t transformed into a Dragon? What if she had buckled under the pressure of Aver resulting in a psychotic break? What if she had spent the day running around the market place totally human, buck-naked, growling, and attacking people?

Dropping her head back, her rounded eyes met the shocked ones of the Dragon covering her. “Am I crazy, Jak?”

Jakob held absolutely still. He was paranoid the slightest movement of his extended wings or curled tail would hurt her.

‘No,’ he replied at length.

It was said in a tone so humdrum it surprised even him, because there was nothing trite about the moment. The exchange was not profound, nor was their behavior stately, and the history books would just have to deal with being underwhelmed when this legend was retold.

Ground shaking footsteps drew closer. Heavy breath blew over his horns. Jakob lifted his snout to stare at the Dragon King looming above.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

Everyone froze.

They struggled to believe, but not Koen. The instant her transformation occurred his beast calmed, emoting smug approval, as if it expected his mate to return from the dead.

The world righted itself.

Debris from the destroyed souk crushed beneath his feet as he moved.

He wanted to feel relief – joy at his beloved’s return. All he mustered in this form was a sense of impatience.

With a hard glance at the male covering her, Koen acknowledged Jakob saved him from destroying his own life. ‘Lord Jakob of House Lin. Each year may you ask a boon of me.’

He closed his claws around Marina’s shaking body and launched into the inky, star-cluttered sky.

Riding the thermal air currents, skimming beneath wispy clouds yet above jungles, volcanoes and lagoons, he took her to his lair. A haven. A secret place he knew was safe, and unmolested by wild ones of his kind. Laying her out in the cool enclosure of the cave situated on the beachfront of an islet, Koen reclined, and simply watched her watch him.

Hair wind-tousled, diamond face grubby, and naked, moon-kissed skin smeared with mud and blood, she was beautiful.

Alive.

She is alive.

He would never forget the hell of living without her. He would remember each moment with her was rare and precious.

Keeping his emotions under control proved difficult. He wanted to force her over and shove inside her, but that would not be polite, so he waited, watched, and desired her intensely with each love-soaked beat of his great heart.

Frustration burned brightly in her eyes. Her beast was too close to the surface, heightening her responses. Toes curling, Marina’s hands clenched rhythmically on her upper thighs, and her oversensitive flesh goose pimpled.

“Shift.”

He found it amusing when they first met she only wanted the Dragon. Now she demanded the man.

He would deny her nothing.

Keeping his beast at the fore, he shrank into his smaller shape.

Their eyes locked.

Desire crackled between them like bolts of lightning, sizzling, exhilarating implosions of sensation born from a mere look.

Teeth snagging her lip, Marina crawled, slinking until she draped over his kneeling form, arms encircling his shoulders, thighs parting to bracket his. Groin to groin and breast to chest, she smiled wickedly. Her silken hair brushed under his chin as she sniffed his throat. Becoming increasingly interested in the jumping vein at his neck, a contented purr rumbled from her throat.

Aroused by the sound his body tensed.

Lips parted against his heated skin. She nibbled then bit him hard, a deeper, darker growl breaking free from her chest.

Shifting forward with unmatched speed, his arms crossed Marina’s back to break her fall when he pinned her. Confident his hold was secure, she could not squirm loose and flee, Koen ran his nose down the slender length of her throat.

Her legs lifted to cradle his hips as she gyrated against him, panting in anticipation. “Please.”

His erection glided through her cream, paused to slowly draw circles on her clit, then dropped to press firmly against the nucleus of her heat.

His eyeballs rolled into the back of his head.

Pink flesh was drenched, ready for him.

A thrust of his hips and he would be sliding home.

The hard points of her nipples rasped against his chest, and her hot mouth sucked a trail across his shoulder. She dug her heels into the meat of his ass, had the gall to kick him, as if encouraging a stud.

“Now, Koen.”

He snarled. Primal instinct forced him to take control and assert dominance.

She was strong, but he was stronger.

Braced on his knees, he used his weight to trap her beneath him. Her hands gripped the rounds of his shoulders to urge him on. The pressure of her soft palms smoothing over his sweat-slicked flesh drove him wild.

He grabbed her hands and pulled them over her head, restraining her with one hand as the other pushed one side of her rolling hips.

“I swear, Koen, if you don’t move I will do something drastic.”

He shut his eyes and breathed deeply.

It did not help.

The vision of her flushed, dewy, and spread for his pleasure played in glorious colour upon the membranes of his eyelids. The musky scent of her sex seeped into the air, and his nostrils flared, mouth watered.

His cock throbbed, and his balls ached.

He was a starving mess.

Eyes sparking at the hold up, Marina’s struggles increased.

Whimpers and pleas for release was a harmony of seduction. The breathy sounds stoked his blazing need.

Koen released his Treasure and flipped her over before her eager fist grabbed a hold of his manhood.

Flat on her stomach, his eyes raked down her strong shoulders, smooth back, and flared hips.

Leaning over, he bared his teeth, and sank them into firm curve of her ass. He ran a calloused palm along the indent of her spine to keep her prone when she pushed onto all fours. He let his teeth mark a path across her lower back as his strong fingers kneaded the lush swells of her buttocks.

Fresh wetness slicked her core and glistened on her inner thighs.

The heady musk taunted, shoved ice picks of desire through his nose and into his brain while strangling the engorged head of his cock.

Besieged and under pressure upon remembering he needed to see her pleasure, Koen licked his lips.

If he had the strength of will to pull away he would have signed an oath in blood promising to bury his face in her lap after he took what he needed.

Hoisting her hips in the air, he growled warningly when she rocked back to grind her ass against his groin.

Koen latched onto the back of her neck to keep her still.

Fulfillment bloomed within the radiant core of his animalistic consciousness. She was like him. Her beast would intuitively understand he possessed the upper hand, and therefore, commanded her submission.

Panting, she stiffened, hunting-quiet.

He thrust, swollen shaft a savage, cutting thickness that impaled more than her body.

It split her soul open wide.

He speared half his length into the molten heat, snarled, and jerked his hips demanding more. Hungry. Need. More. It took another push for her to hold him at his root.

Jolting when his hips butted her ass, Marina shuddered, threw her head back, bereft of air.

Releasing her neck, he rose up gripping her hips and pounded into her as if trying to forge them into one being. Too tight, too hot, too perfect, control slipped its reins. The explosion of his release tore a thunderous roar from the bottom of his soul. He wrapped his arms around her waist to hold her still as he spurted into her, powerful body shaking.

Winded, blinking to vanquish the blotches skittering across his vision, he wound his other arm around her and collapsed onto his side.

Still intimately joined, he hauled her closer to his chest, letting her feel his thumping heart between her shoulder blades.

The fires within dimmed enough for him to focus. His eyes closed, pulse slowed. “Why did you not come to me?”

She tensed. Small hands rubbed his forearm. “I was lost,” she admitted. “For a while I didn’t have a goddamned clue what was going on. Who I was.” Marina tilted her head, turned it so she could see him. In the moonlight, her dark brown eyes appeared black. “Viktor found me.” She laughed quietly, head shaking in disbelief. “Lugged my irrational ass up the mountain, and hid me in an abandoned cave off the quest trail. Then he brought Jak. I’m in awe of him.”

“Lin has his uses,” Koen grated.

That was all the praise he could muster. He had granted the male an annual boon.

What was that if not gratitude?

“My Second is a worthy male, but I was talking about Viktor. The strength of his will is unbelievable. He found a wounded female wild one and she spoke to him with my voice. Just once. He looked into my eyes, saw past the flesh, and he believed.” She sighed. “He was afraid more for me than himself.”

A memory floated to the surface of Viktor arguing with Daniil and Sevastyan.

“Brave,” Koen murmured, silently swearing to personally thank and reward the young male.

It would have taken a great amount of courage to approach his elders knowing how negatively they would react. If the youngling had come to him with a story of his Treasure being alive and in dragonskin, he would have lost control and beat his hide black and blue for daring to utter the hurtful lies.

“Yeah. Crazy brave. He kept me safe until I could get back to you.” She paused. Tension spread through her frame. “What happened to Maksim?”

“Maksim?”

“Jakob’s brother. The white Dragon I mauled before you kicked the shit out of me.”

She rubbed his chest, amazed by the texture, enjoying the way his skin tightened under her touch. Flat nipples rusched tantalizingly. It was a while before she could drag her gaze away. Beginning to understand why males stare at breasts. Cause and effect was a powerful thing. Multiplied when you saw the effect you caused.

“He conspired to kill you while the Courts were in confusion,” she managed while her tongue ran over her bottom lip. “I got angry.”

Koen’s heart warmed. The side of his mouth curved. “You were protecting me.” Guilt speared him again, and the smile died. “I nearly killed you.” His voice was the barest of whispers. “You did not fight back when I had you pinned.”

“My Dragon went loopy. We were so happy to see you.” She gnawed her lip, an epiphany making her feel ill. “I don’t think we could ever hurt you.”

And that was a serious problem.

How would she defeat him during the Hunt if she couldn’t even harm him to defend herself when he tried to kill her?

Marina the woman would fight him if she needed to, but her Dragon seemed all too happy to lie back and take whatever he dished out.

She remembered what Council Mon Leonid said about High Princess Solaria and her struggle with her Dragon soul.

Our males are trained from birth to control the beast within. When she shifted, there was no memory of who she truly was. The beast had no deeper connection with humanity. It was a creature of pure instinct.

The otherness had wrenched away control of Marina’s body during the second quest, and the moment it decided Galina was about to try and kill her, again it had taken the power out of Marina’s hands.

Yes, shifting had saved her, but the experience itself was terrifying.

Disconnected at a fundamental stage of development, Marina and her Dragon had split her personality into two. Two sides fought bitterly for supremacy. Their opposing will clashed, and created confusion within the whole.

Marina’s Dragon was entirely submissive to Koen Raad.

Just considering fighting him during the Hunt with the intention of breaking him made her feel physically sick.

Hell, it made her feel unstable.

She thought back to the throne room when she, Koen, Daniil and the Regent discussed what to do about the Mage attack. Her Dragon had risen in defence of Elder Khan letting the males know she was superior and to be obeyed.

Though not comprehending the source of her aggression, Daniil and Myron had immediately yielded.

Because he bowed to no one, Koen had refused.

Sensing he was stronger, more dominant, she had surrendered.

Had she already ruined her chances at beating the Dragon King during the Hunt? Did her Dragon soul actually hinder her chances?

As a human, mind controlled body. The beast was all about instinct.

With her two halves working in harmony, she would be an unstoppable force. Split as they were, she was vulnerable.

Feeling his Treasure’s mental distancing, Koen wrapped a hand around Marina’s throat. His gaze bored into hers. “Never stop fighting. Not even for me.”

Her eyes returned his stare. The dark orbs were troubled. Brows pulling together, she twisted and kissed the corded strength of his neck. “Koen ... Aver. I lost Aver.” Her voice filled with shame. “I don’t know what-”

Humming condolences, his hand eased between her legs and stroked her sex.

He did not care about Aver.

He did not care about anyone else besides the two of them.

Marina sighed and stretched. Just when she clasped his wrist to stop him so they could talk, a marauding finger delved between her nether lips and slid inside. She groaned. Arched against his hand and body, she wound her free arm around his shoulders and anchored herself to his muscled length.

He grabbed her waist to keep her locked against him as he stood. He took her to the lagoon and cleaned the dirt and soot from her as he pleasured her. She was too delirious, enslaved by sensation to do much more than moan and pant against his throat.

Under the shade of the trees, wading deeper into the cool water, Koen lifted her trembling body until his mouth reached the softness of her breast.

Lapping tongue teasing the stiffened peak of her dusky nipple, he suckled, nipped, and licked. He wanted her incoherent. He wanted her whole body to throb. Pleasure would wash away her worries about anything but what he planned to do with her.

“Mine,” Koen muttered. He wrapped a hand around his shaft and pumped. Holding himself took the edge off. “Always mine, Treasure.”

Her tensing legs bent, hooked high up on his torso to clamp with such force he staggered, knew the hold would bruise.

Releasing her breast, Koen luxuriated in her strength. He rubbed his cheek against her smoothness, felt her thumping heart, and lowered her moist core to where he wanted it.

She ground her pussy against his pulsing length and his beast bucked at the reins. Maddening because he wanted to control this mating, the Dragon had its turn.

Koen’s strokes on his shaft became fitful. Each hard pump slid his hand across her sensitive flesh, and she squirmed, made needy, mewling cries that exploded in puffs of air against his ear.

Warm lips sucked her skin. Strong teeth nipped at her racing pulse, and he found savage satisfaction in knowing he coaxed its frantic beat.

His fingers thrust, petted, and fondled her sex until she was a shuddering mess.

Marina’s legs shook.

He had not licked her like he planned, but that would come later.

Koen slipped another finger inside, felt her muscles greedily clench around him, and thrust hard. “I want you. Come.”

She stilled, gasped, and then tried to tear the hair from his head as she obeyed.

Dazed, he continued to stoke himself as Marina writhed and bucked against him, sating her needs without the trouble of his help. Only then did Koen allow himself the ultimate bliss of working his length into her quivering depths. Using his strength to hold her ass suspended, he slammed her down, thrust up, and did not stop ramming into her until his muscles locked and strained.

Choking back a roar, Koen’s lust exploded in a blistering wave that shot from his balls, twisted through his spine then blasted out with such force a piece of his soul ripped away.

When she slumped, the spasm of her sex easing, he stopped feeling as if his very life drained through the tip of his cock.

She brushed a kiss to his temple. “Now I remember.”

“What?” he demanded hoarsely. His legs were weak.

She burrowed her face into his neck. Chuckled in that secret, dark way females often did when dealing with their mates. “Just remembered why you were worth dying for.”

He slapped her ass and grinned when she squealed. “Female, are you telling me you desire me only for my body?”

Lifting her head, she gave him a wide-eyed look of innocence. “No.”

“Liar.”

Bursting into laughter, she thrashed about splashing salty water. It made it difficult for his wobbly legs to carry them to the beach without tripping.

They sprawled on the damp sand and let the lagoon lap at their toes.

Marina sighed ever so often, the sound one of supreme happiness that made his heart clench.

He had done this many times alone. Laid on the beach and looked into the dawn sky, wondering if the day would hold some small joy denied him the last.

Marina brought hope into his world. Hope his life was worth more than a Chosen’s aspirations of glory. She had loved him before she knew what and who he was. That alone made her the most precious and irreplaceable piece of Treasure known to his world.

“I lost,” she said glumly. “After all that I lost.” She squinted, lips puckering. “How embarrassing.”

“It does not matter.” He kissed her lush mouth. “You shall wear the Wreath.” He licked at her lips, tasted salt and his own musk. He remembered her sucking his skin. “It is done.”

Her lashes dropped to hide her fear from him. “The Dragon Courts won’t accept this.”

“Rest.” He kissed her more deeply, vowing never again to not touch her whenever he wished. “You have nothing to fear. I will take care of you.”

“Boy,” she mumbled, settling more comfortably into his embrace. Her leg slid over his, her hips pressing closer to his erection before retreating. “Is he safe? He must be so worried. I need ... to find....”

She drifted asleep, and her body became lax in his arms.

Pillowing her head on his shoulder, Koen Raad clutched her tighter, horrible memories swirling past the haze of the last day. His stomach clenched.

An icy chill swept over him, and he watched in horror as dawn kissed the horizon.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

Marina woke. I’m alive. Mwwwaaahhh. The thought jubilantly bounced in her mind along with the knowledge she had been named Queen of the Wyvrae by default. Sure, she hoped to actually win a crown in Aver, but she was not so conceited as to refuse the title because of it, nor did she feel lacking after Koen’s lovemaking made it crystal-clear it didn’t matter to him. She counted her blessings, and humbly accepted the post. She would be a just Queen, and make as many people as feasibly possible proud.

The sparks of pain shooting through her body and muscle cramps knotting her limbs were totally worth it.

All she had to do now was figure out how to make the otherness accept fighting Koen Raad in the Hunt.

Anastasia would give her a run for her money, but the Drackai Queen’s heart was no longer in it, if it ever was.

Niggling, the otherness tried to dredge up a memory of people shouting over her as she slept, but the full memory eluded them both. Her mind wandered, knowing she would receive a comprehensive update eventually. She’d only managed to stay awake for Jakob to whisper the bare minimum into her ear as Koen Raad carried her to bed. There had been more her Second said – something about the Mages that sounded urgent – but those condescending men and their heavy-handed threats could wait until she felt better.

Marina lay there in a state of blissful ignorance. She was more than happy to bask in the joy of knowing the most challenging phase of her life was close to over. Yes, she had a frozen realm to oversee, but that she could handle.

Her family was together and secure. The rest would follow naturally.

After a while, she noted the silence in the chamber was tomblike. Shouldn’t there be people around? You know, crying, laughing, and force feeding her grapes?

Frowning, she pushed groggily onto her elbows and looked around, disgruntled at the lack of beside visitors. Who’d I kill? She paused. Checked with the otherness she hadn’t actually killed anybody while in dragonskin.

Marina blinked spastically at the figure folded into a seat beside her bed.

No mate, no best friend, no oath-sworn Second, no cousin, no long lost uncle, no devoted handmaiden, but her estranged father managed to visit?

“Mikhail?”

The male started, and jumped onto his feet. He stared at her, mouth hanging then roughly rubbed his jaw. “Finally, you wake. It is nearly dusk.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Next time I almost die, I’ll be sure to wake promptly at sunrise.”

“That would be agreeable.”

Marina pounded her pillow with her fist. Snootily said, “I’d like you to go away now,” over her shoulder as she lay down and gave him her back.

“I must tell you a number of truths you must accept with poise and grace befitting your elevated station.”

Marina stiffened. Grated, “I have a Second.”

“Jakob is unavailable, and so is Sevastyan,” he said when she twisted, her mouth opening, “so the task falls to me.”

“Where’s Koen?”

“Busy patching the Kingdom together.”

Suggesting it had been broken apart. Kissing her teeth, Marina sat up. Happy time was over. She eyed Mikhail then patted the blankets. “Alright then. Tell me these ‘truths’.”

He told her.

Marina felt her eyes popping as Mikhail outlined the extent of what happened to the Fire Kingdom in the hours after she was pronounced deceased.

“Oh.” There was not much one could say when told she’d caused a King to go on a murderous rampage and Kingdom-wide rioting. She rubbed her throat. It felt a little tight. “Koen Raad brings a whole new meaning to the phrase completely losing your shit.” Exasperated, she slapped the covers. “Did no one try and stop him?”

Mikhail looked at her as if she were addled. “Ah, yes, at the news of his Treasure’s demise, the Dragon King should have found solace in our platitudes then fallen to the ground in a fit of weeping.”

“Do I look like I’m welcoming sarcasm right now?”

“Do I look the kind to answer inane questions with rational responses?”

“Go away.”

His teeth ground together. “Let us not fight.”

“Stop baiting me and we won’t.”

“I have put up with enough disrespect from you.”

“You want to talk about disrespect?”

She sneered nastily then squealed when his fingers snatched her lips to keep her mouth closed.

His dark eyes drilled into hers.

“The depth of my sorrow the moment that female told us you were gone is unutterable. I do not ask for your liking.” He laughed deprecatingly. “We are too similar, I think, for that to be reasonable. I ask that you not shut me out. You are my offspring, and I love you. Unreservedly.”

Stunned, Marina was engulfed in his arms and pulled against his broad chest.

He rubbed her upper back and kissed the crown of her head. “I am proud of you.” He was back in the chair next to her bed by the time she recovered, and then she couldn’t respond because the screen slammed open.

Cathryn barrelled into the room in a cloud of silver silk. A euphoric smile stretched across her lips so wide it looked painful.

She burst into squeaky tears and flew to the bed.

Regent Myron and Council Mon Issak entered, chuckling at Cathryn’s elation. Wishing Marina good evening and inquiring after her health, they stood unobtrusively off to the side as more guests approached.

A sombre Daniil strode into the chamber.

The strained relationship between her and the blonde Dragon Lord was still in evidence as he nodded and remained at the foot of the bed instead of approaching for a hug she’d hoped would bury the bad feeling between them.

An anxious Nikolai came rushing then pulled up short when he noted the other people present.

Marina expected the younger Raad to fawn over her, as was his habit to aggravate Koen, but he too stopped at a distance and offered a sedate smile.

His eyes shone with relief to see her well.

It surprised her Sevastyan and Viktor were missing, but she figured they would be along soon, so would Boy and Koen Raad.

Cathryn perched on the edge of the coverlet and held her hand.

The room fell silent.

Marina looked between them all. Many averted eyes. Hm. “You guys look like I really died. I’m here and I’m Queen. Boom baby. Where’s the celebration?”

Cathryn smiled, squeezed her hand. “Congratulations. You kicked ass, girlfriend.”

“Hell yes.” Marina grinned. The tension between them evaporated. “And the best is yet to come.”

More silence.

Huffing, Marina made a rude noise. “Is the bad air because I can turn into Dragon? Are you all freaking out? Plotting to cage me? Because that’s not cool.”

“No,” they refuted in chorus, which was weird, because they seemed too on edge to speak uniformly.

“Then why are you all uncomfortable?”

“You are a miracle,” Isaak said gently. “The Dragon Council has already convened to discuss the potential impact you may have Koen’s dynasty. We have concluded as long as he remains a just leader we will not interfere in his reign.”

“Um, why would you need to?”

“Dragons choose when they die,” Cathryn reminded. Her eyes twinkled. “You told me that.”

“Yeah. So?”

“Members of the Dragon Courts brought up the question of succession,” Daniil expanded.

She met his reserved gaze then understood. “Because usually the Emperor abdicates when his Treasure dies and a new Phoenix is born and becomes King.”

As she was too a Dragon, she could choose when to start pushing up daises.

Koen Raad could conceivably rule forever.

She bet that pissed a lot of important people off.

“The Courts are worried about this already? I haven’t even survived the Hunt yet.”

“You came back from the grave,” Cathryn said wryly. “I am sure they think you have this cinched.”

“True.” She kept picking up edgy vibes from them all though, so her pleasant façade showed signs of strain. “Anybody know where Boy is?”

The tension turned ugly, suffocating.

“I last saw him this morning,” Mikhail said slowly.

“He was well,” Cathryn added. “Not a scratch on him even after all the fighting. He hid most of the night waiting for you to return. Viktor and Pasha are with him.”

“Oh.” She shrugged. “Okay.” She glanced at Mikhail’s stony features. “And where did you say Jak is? Was unavailable a euphuism for getting laid?”

Cathryn cleared her throat. Her expression was pained. “Not exactly.”

Sensing a possessive gaze settle upon her, Marina’s eyes shot up. Her heart pounded faster, and her body hummed with pleasure. Her arms lifted, aching to hold her mate.

Koen Raad’s large body hovered in the doorway.

Marina tried to see behind him, searching for Boy. Obviously dismissing the youngling’s absence, she opened her arms and waited for him to come to her.

Her smile died when she noticed the hunted look marring his expression. Her arms lowered, eyes misting in confusion at his reticence.

“Leave us.” The quiet command was at once obeyed.

His Treasure hugged her human friend and returned nods from Daniil and Nikolai, preened under gentle pats of affection from Myron and Isaak. Mikhail simply smiled his goodbye, and escorted a reluctant Cathryn out.

The door slid closed.

“Koen?” Her voice was small, her body braced against the mound of pillows at her back. “I’m getting the feeling something big has happened and no one wants to be the one to deliver the bad news. Whatever is wrong tell me so I can deal.”

She looked achingly fragile, but she had the heart of a warrior, the soul of a Dragon.

She was magnificent.

His.

He had failed her.

“I love you.”

Head tilting, her face softened. Her eyes welled. “Do you know that’s the first time you’ve said those words?” She laughed, utterly joyful. The heel of her palm rubbed circles over her heart. “I never knew how amazing it would be to hear them.”

“When Anastasia told me you died,” he said deeply, quietly, “I was not myself.”

“I know about the rioting.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “The killing.” Compassion and understanding flowed from her. “It’s alright. I get it. The otherness inside me was hungry for blood when it thought you were in danger. I can’t imagine what would happen if you died and I was left to pick up the pieces.” She slid her hand along the blankets, reaching for him, offering comfort. “But you managed to hold it together. Everyone we love is alive, and safe. Yes, people suffered, but we will strive to make it up to them. Together we will rebuild what was broken. The people will be proud to know we’re worthy of the faith they put in us.”

“Boy–”

“Is probably freaking out I know.” Her grin was lopsided. “Cathryn told me he’s with Viktor. Those two will make great friends, I think.” She murmured this delightedly. “Pasha will keep them out of trouble until I’m up and about tomorrow.”

He met her loving gaze and knew – just knew – he would never have her forgiveness. “Ryuk is no longer here at the Citadel. The Eldernmoot took him home.”

At first she giggled, shaking her head slowly, as if the words coming out of his mouth were incomprehensible or garbled. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that right. I’m exhausted.” She pinched the bridge of her nose and tiredly shifted in her blankets. “I thought you just said the Eldernmoot took Boy home.”

“His name is not Boy. It never was. His name is Ryuk. He was – is – the son and heir of the murdered Grand Mage. His supposed ‘death’ was a plot conspired by his uncle as a bid for power. The Eldermen sought me out during the riots and offered to reaffirm our treaty of peace if we returned the rightful heir of the Clans to them.”

Marina stared. It was like he spoke a foreign tongue. Stomach clenching, her lips parted with a silent gasp, because somehow air had been sucked out of the world.

Hurrying to hold her, Koen ran his hands down her arms, rubbed her back. “Treasure?”

“Don’t.” She brushed his hands away then held up her own, unsheathed blades either side of her head. A warning. “Don’t touch me. Tell me where my son is.”

Koen tried to meet her roving eyes, tried to hold her chin but she shied away. “I need you to understand. I need you to not hate me.” His voice roughed. “I just need you.”

“No, no, no.” Marina kept shaking her head, the movement becoming wilder. Her heart pounded too fast against her breastbone. She scrubbed at the area with the heel of her palm, achingly aware the last time she made the gesture her heart had been bursting with happiness. Each thump pushed arcs of pain throughout her system. “You wouldn’t. My mind is not right, and I’m hearing you wrong, because you would never do that. Not to me.” Tears spilled down her cheeks. “You wouldn’t hand over our child to the people who enslaved him. That’s crazy people talk.” She thumped her chest so hard he started. “My child. You wouldn’t pass over my child like a sac of grain.”

“There was a threat of war, Marina. I had to.”

“Was?”

“I had a duty. When they told me you were gone, I lost touch with reality. Everything fractured.”

“That wouldn’t have been his fault.”

“I used the opportunity to make it right. It was my responsibility as a Phoenix, as Dragon King, to accept the diplomatic resolution proposed by the Eldernmoot.”

“No.” She cut a hand through the air. “I don’t want to hear any of that – any of it.” She lurched from his arms and scrambled off the bed, putting it between them. She staggered back widening the distance. “Tell me where my son is. I’ll go fetch him. They couldn’t’ve gone far.” Trembling, her voice was shrill and reedy. “I can fly now. I’m Queen. I don’t agree with this.”

It no longer mattered. It was far too late. And no, she couldn’t fetch him back. It didn’t matter that she could fly. The Wastelands were closed to the Dragon Lords. The only crossing allowed was a direct route that connected the Fire Kingdom and Ice Realm. Outside of those parameters, the Battle Mages would hunt her down like an animal.

“They wanted one.” The words tasted like ash in Koen’s mouth. “One to preserve the lives of many.”

Her demand was a scream, “Where is he?”

“Gone.” Voice gruff, Koen battled his guilt. His soulful eyes reddened. Pain for the loss of Boy shredded his soul, but Marina’s grief was much worse than he imagined. “They took him at dawn. By now they are in the Barren and hidden. The Mages survive by hiding.”

Her expression lost all tension. She swayed before locking her limbs in place. “Did Mikhail know this was happening?”

“Yes.”

The knife twisted deeper. “Cathryn?”

“She tried to hold them off but she has no power here.” Koen did not know why he defended the woman. Maybe it was so he had something good to say. “She spoke passionately on your behalf but the Eldernmoot were unmoved.”

Marina scoffed a laugh that turned into a pained rasp. “Why didn’t Daniil....” Her chin dropped, and her shoulders hunched. “Of course he knew. Of course he did. I bet he was the one pushing it.” She exhaled slowly. “Uncle Sevastyan? Is that why he’s not here?”

“No. He is not right in his mind. Viktor declared himself Ryuk’s guardian in your stead and left with him. Sevastyan’s grief runs deep. He fears he will never see his offspring again.”

“And Pasha went with them,” she mumbled, numb.

“Yes.”

Marina’s heart ached. Her brave cousin had done more than his share. Still he took on more danger simply because he considered her family, his Queen. Pasha had gone because her Princess couldn’t.

Marina’s fingers curled under as she asked the next one. “Jakob?”

A glimmer of jealousy flashed in Koen’s feral gaze. He shook his head. “No. You need not think he betrayed you. He told me not to do it.” His tone was bitter. “And he tried to fight when the Mages came for Boy.”

“Where is he?”

“Below. Chained.” He sighed. The male had been badly damaged by the confrontation. Elder Khan had been mending his wounds all day. “He fought valiantly.”

“My guard?”

“Are loyal.” Koen was shocked she would believe otherwise. “Vadik and his men knew nothing.”

“Was Boy frightened?” She whispered the words. Her eyes closed tightly as she fought her anguish. “Was he scared?”

“I held him. He was brave.”

“Did he ask for me? Did he–” She stiffened. Her lids flew open and her gaze sharpened. Her tone was queer when she spoke. “How did you get him out of the Citadel? Boy can disappear into thin air. He’s been hiding since they arrived. He wouldn’t have revealed himself.”

“They possessed the same skills,” Koen muttered, remembering how the Battle Mages had run the youngling down.

“He would have escaped. Especially since Jakob was willing to help.” Cold eyes bored to his. “So how did you do it?”

For the first time in his existence, Koen Raad shifted nervously. He did not know what to do with hands.

He even struggled to meet her gaze as an equal.

“Daniil made a suggestion–”

Marina could not believe what she was hearing. “I don’t give a flying fuck what he suggested. He’s a politician. His priorities start and end with his duty. He’ll say or suggest anything if it’s the lawful thing to do. Regardless of who Daniil is to this family you,” she stabbed a finger at him, “were Boy’s father. He looked up to you. He relied on you for protection, trusted you, just as I used to. So, Dragon King,” disgust weighted each word, “what did you do?”

Koen flinched. Nothing would make his next words any less atrocious, so he simply said them. “We told him you knew. That you agreed. It was the only way he would go without a fight, and without using his magicks.”

Fragile composure shattering, a sick, agonized wail tore from her throat. “He thinks I abandoned him.” Choking, she spun and batted at the air. Her gaze wildly swung around the room. “You took my son from me. You lied to him. You betrayed me.”

“Marina, please.” His voice was tight with strain. He could feel her hating him, and he did not know how to stop it. “Ryuk needed to be with his own people. They need him.”

“He doesn’t know how to be a King. Zaki will slaughter him.”

“It would have been selfish to–”

She turned on him, eyes blazing. “He was our son.” The booming shout was amplified by her Dragon’s growl. “Mine.”

The walls shook, dislodging dust. The fulgurite toppled off its pedestal. It smashed into a million glittering pieces.

“You must calm.” He pleaded with his hands. “You are too weak for your beast to re-emerge.”

Dark eyes glowed with fury. Black scales appeared across her neck and cheek. “Explain. How you could have done this.”

“Marina, you were gone.” Koen averted his gaze. The pain was too fresh to recall without losing his breath. “The Kingdom was in turmoil. If I denied the Eldernmoot their Prince, the Mages would have returned with an army. I had already failed in the protection of this land by allowing the riots to begin. We were divided, and the people–”

“I would die for them and their families if it were the right thing to do. I expect no less devotion from them.”

“I could not take it back. I cannot seem weak to an enemy.”

Koen reached for her, thinking if he could just hold her it would go better. She would see he loved her. She would understand the choice to keep Boy with him had been an impossible one.

She slapped his hand down. Her aura shifted. Something malignant slithered behind her irises.

“Koen Raad. I am Marina Zar, High Princess of the Dragon Lands and Queen of the Ice Realm.” Her voice was a feral growl. “Bare your throat to me.”

He recoiled. Flashed his teeth and returned her growl with a deeper, more aggressive rumbling. His dutiful posture turned rigid, and his slitted pupils blazed with banked flames.

Viper-quick, his hand manacled her throat.

With deliberate slowness, he lowered his head until their lips brushed. “No.”

Her eyes flashed angrily. Somehow, though he held the vulnerable column of her neck, she remained coolly indifferent. “You owe me this. Get on your knees.” She snarled at his stony refusal. “Do it. Or I will break you so bad you’ll hobble on three legs for the rest of your life.”

“Marina.” His eyes shut. Arousal grew to painful intensity. His Dragon thrashed at the chains binding it, incensed, eager to establish his power. “This I cannot do. Even for you.”

“I don’t want to fight you right now.” Her eyes were glowing coals. Opalescent scales grew and hardened on her nose bridge. “Who knows what pieces I might tear off?”

He smirked. Pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth then huskily whispered, “You would regret it,” before lashing her earlobe with the tip of his tongue.

Frost seeped from the pores on her neck.

He cursed, forced to release her or risk freezing the appendage solid. “Female! Is this truly how it will be decided between us?”

Marina’s body was consumed in light.

Koen Raad felt his Dragon rise to the challenge.

Magick pulsed beneath his flesh. Flames licked the roof of his mouth and, smoke billowed from the back of his throat. “Very well.”

Skirt hiked to her knees, Peeta raced towards the alcove Daniil rested within. Stunned to see a servant running through the fort in such a manner, he shifted, magicked clothes then called to her.

She caught his summoning wave out the corner of her eye. She careened to a stop. Panting, she offered a quick bow. “Lord Kol?”

Daniil eyed her disheveled state. “What is happening?”

“Zar and Raad battle in the lower levels.”

He frowned, cocking his head. “Mikhail is fighting Nikolai? No. The brat would not risk his pretty face. Koen then.”

“Who am I fighting?” The Council Mon strolled into the open-arched antechamber licking his fingers. “I come from the kitchens. One of the servants worked up my appetite.”

The males shared grins of masculine satisfaction.

Daniil’s mirth died.

Puzzled, he retuned his attention to Peeta.

The girl had been overcome when her mother left to enter the Barren, but she had never seemed the type to tell falsehoods, no matter how distressed.

“I thought you said he battled Koen?”

Mikhail’s expression turned serious. “What? No. Zar’s are lovers not fighters.”

Both men exploded into riotous laughter. A Zar fought their own shadow if they thought it got uppity.

“I did not.” Huffing, Peeta shot an impatient look down the hallway. “My Lord.” She impatiently tacked the respectful address onto her previous statement. Her eyes darted from his. “So sorry, but I am missing it.” She picked up her skirt and bolted into the thong of servants rushing past.

Peeta was nothing if not courteous and respectful. She had not even bowed before she left.

Despite Marina’s numerous attempts to stage a revolt in the staff they remained all that was honourable, so Daniil was at a complete loss as of what to make of her behaviour.

Considering if he should follow, especially to investigate claims of Koen Raad fighting, his attention diverted to a half-crazed newcomer.

Cathryn staggered into the enclosure. Her arms flailed, and her face was flushed and sweaty. Mouth flapping as she panted for air, she tottered dangerously off balance on her next step, because the entire fortress shook.

Twin roars of rage shattered the quiet.

Some of the servants shrieked. Others dropped to the ground to cover their heads. Most ran in a screaming panic clueless as to what happened, but determined to flee far from it.

An almighty crash shuddered the Citadel hard enough to knock a goblet onto the floor and dislodge the heavy furniture.

Hooking an arm around Cathryn’s waist, Mikhail pulled her tenderly into his arms. “Breathe.” His brows lowered thunderously as the walls trembled and a vase smashed on the floor. “Calm, and breathe deeply.”

“No time for air.” Gasp. “The crazy bitch,” splutter, gasp, “is fighting him.” Sweating, she gripped Mikhail’s tunic with one hand as the other fussed with her starched collar. She blinked up at him with glazed eyes. “I can’t handle her anymore. She’s going to get herself killed. It was difficult enough to control her when she wasn’t breathing fire and spitting ice. She’s your spawn. Do something.”

He really wasn’t listening. He was more interested in watching her chest rise and fall. Blinking, Mikhail tried to pry her hand loose. “Cathryn–”

“Marina’s fighting Koen,” Nikolai yelled, darting past the enclosure. “Got him by the balls.”

Armour clinking, Gatson and Sevastyan sprinted past behind him, a contingent of Dragon Men following their bellowed commands.

To Daniil’s utter shock, Regent Myron skipped behind them, gold eyes wild. He and Mikhail shared an alarmed look. A heartbeat later they were half way out the alcove.

“Why did you not say something sooner?” Mikhail demanded.

Exasperated, Cathryn looped her arms around his thick neck and jumped as he bent to scoop her into his arms. “I did.”

They dashed after the ice breathers.

Marina reared on her hind legs. Koen’s tail lashed out. Its barbed tip sliced the air where her underbelly had been before she jerked.

Snarling, she slinked lower and crept forward.

The once luxurious chamber was destroyed. Furniture was overturned. The immense wooden bed was on fire, the elaborately painted screen frozen into a sheet of ice, and the ceiling and walls were covered in charred burn marks, dripping patches of translucent blue frost.

Koen pounced and they locked together, crashed through the icy screen, and rolled around amid a nest of splinters.

He broke the clutch, grabbed her tail by the root in his foreclaws then tossed her down the passage.

Sprawling, her horn showered the floor in sparks as it scraped against the wall. Sliding to a stop, her wings stuck up at odd angles.

Gnashing his fangs, Koen Raad climbed up the wall until he walked along the ceiling, stalking her from above.

Sides heaving, he tipped his snout downward and haughtily peered at her slumped form.

His nostrils flared. ‘And you think you are worthy of–’

Marina surged up and wrapped her maw around his throat. With a powerful yank, she slammed him onto the floor. Her bladed tail pierced his and embedded into the rock, trapping it. Breathing deeply through her nose, she released a torrent of icy slush that freeze-burned his hide and ripped her claws into his scales. Males boast too much, she thought, inhaling to release another icy gush of magick that had his great bones shuddering, and his open jaws roaring in pain.

There could be no mercy.

The Dragon had to realise it was beaten and submit. It was a creature of tremendous might, but it had to learn. It may refuse to willingly bow to another, but there was no choice in yielding to its mate.

Terrified of defeat, Koen Raad tried to fight.

Marina bit harder.

Blood spurted and leathery skin split beneath her fangs. Red flesh parted beneath her claws exposing bone.

‘Enough, Koen.’

His body was stone beneath her as he refused to give in.

‘Yield. I won’t stop.’

Slowly, his muscles relaxed.

She felt his Dragon’s reluctance, its resentment, but the moment she felt the balance of power tip in her favour she unlocked her jaw and released him.

She rolled off onto the floor, sick to her stomach, blood and bile swilling in her maw. Her tail jerked and slipped from the ragged hole she’d gouged in his.

The Queen had claimed the King.

They shifted human.

She on her front, him on his back, they lay battered and bloodied amidst the ruins of a once illustrious corridor.

Clearing his throat, Koen swallowed throatily, stared unblinking at the tattered banners above. “Treasure?”

Marina groaned.

The largest cuts healed during the transformation, but she was still badly bruised.

She pushed onto all fours, lurched onto her feet and found a gawping crowd crammed at the end of the passage.

At the front stood Daniil, Nikolai and Sevastyan. All had unique expressions of mixed relief and incredulity. Chest puffed out, Mikhail stood a head and shoulders taller above the rest, He looked proud.

Cathryn took in their wounds and gagged. Clamping a hand over her mouth, she pushed back into the crowd out of sight.

Anastasia shoved her way to the front and gaped at them. She barked a laugh then turned to grab Daniil in a rib-bruising hug.

Unfazed, Captain Vadik ran his gaze critically over her nudity then stepped forward holding aloft a bundle she recognized as a cloak.

Regent Myron detached from the crowd. He smiled faintly then held up his hands, projected his voice. “The Dragon King has yielded to the Queen of the Ice Realm. Hail Emperor Raad.”

A rousing chorus of Dragon Lords, Dragon Men and Citadel Guards chanted ‘Hail! Hail! Hail!’ Servants cheered and clapped, happy to have good news after the horrors of the days before.

Tears flooded Marina’s eyes. She swallowed convulsively, lips dry and cracked. This wasn’t how she imagined the moment. This wasn’t how she was supposed to feel.

Fingers brushed her ankle.

“Treasure?”

The calloused pads burned against her flesh.

Koen stared at the back of Marina’s head. He expected to see her fists shaking with anger, but her fingers hung loose at her sides. He did not understand. “Treasure, I–”

“You don’t get to speak to me.” Her voice was as cold and as deadly as the ice plains. “The threat of war is over? Good. Don’t enter my Realm.” Tugging on the leather strip securing the jade around her neck, she tossed it to the floor by his side. “I love you, Koen. I just don’t like you right now.”

Without another glance in his direction, without pause, she left him there.

She took the cloak from Vadik as she passed.

“The dungeon?” she asked quietly.

The strait-laced Captain wordlessly led her away as her guard from House Ryu surrounded her.

Koen Raad remained supine watching her walk away.

The Dragon Lands felt his pain, but were relieved it was over. Celebrations commenced elsewhere, away from their Emperor, a male who betrayed the female he loved to save them.

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

“By order of her Royal Majesty the Drackai are herby banished from the Ice Realm.”

Exhausted after three seemingly unending days of travel through the Barren, Mikhail blinked uncomprehendingly at the smartly dressed male blocking his way with a small army of ice breathers at his rear.

The last month had been a haze of rebuilding, funerals, and arguments with the Dragon Council and Courts alike.

The Drackai Queen’s coronation was done, and now it was time for the Wyvrae Queen to be honoured, accepting the Wreath from the Ice Realm’s Regent, Gavriil.

Yet the way was barred.

Riding his crested back, clinging to a ridge of ebony scales, Cathryn wiggled, expressing a wish to demount.

He did not blame her. He freely admitted it had not been the smoothest of rides.

The Barren was hellish.

Sapphire hide complimented by the glistening blue and white landscape, Daniil held up a reassuring claw. ‘There has been a mistake. I shall find the underlying cause of this.’

As he moved forward, the Wyvrae held up a katana and pointed it at Daniil. The ice breather’s craggy face showed no welcome for one of his kind.

Daniil snorted angrily. The breath was a white cloud in the crisp, frigid air. ‘I am Wyvrae. I–’

“I know who you are.” The male returned his eyes to the parchment. “Daniil Kol, you are herby stripped of your titles and land for high treason. Your name has been struck from the hall of warriors, and your retainers will be escorted to the borderlands where they may make their way to the Fire Kingdom.”

Paling, Daniil rocked back as if struck. ‘What are you–’

“The punishment for treason is death,” the ice breather continued composedly. “Should you remain within our domain by sundown you will be tried and executed for your crimes against the Wreath.”

‘I understand Marina is upset at what happened, but this is absurd.’

“No, Daniil.” Coming through the ranks of Dragons, eschewing dragonskin to signal a wish to avoid hostility, Jakob made the other male’s lack of title plain. His eyes roamed over the people he knew Marina loved most in the world. He sighed heartily. “Our Queen is grieving.” He face curdled in disgust. “To think I once admired you. Go back to your backstabbing fire breathers. Live with the knowledge the land of your birth is closed to you.”

‘I had no choice,’ Daniil roared. ‘I did what had to be done. It is not fair she punishes me for it. I saved lives.’ His mental voice rose in a furious bellow. ‘Do you hear me, Marina? Face me if you mean to damn me.’

Jakob waved the Wyvrae Dragon Lords back when they snarled and tried to advance. Shifting to dragonkin, he butted Daniil’s shoulder with his snout and roughly shoved him aside for privacy. ‘Did you really think there would be no consequences? He was her offspring. She loved him.’ Using his bulk to push the male back, he turned to look at the visitors who did not have leave to pass the boundary. ‘They forged a bond beyond flesh and blood – it was of the soul. You betrayed them. Goddess knows you are lucky. Your throats would be slit as you slept this night if punishment was mine to levy. Marina’s mercy knows no bounds for she has given you the chance to flee like the cowards you are.’

Tail thrashing, Daniil took another threatening step. ‘Cowards?’

‘You gave them an innocent. Can you deny it?’

‘No. I must live with it.’ Daniil’s eyes darkened with pain. ‘That does not mean what I did was not right.’

Jakob shook his horns. ‘You are too concerned with what is right. We could have found another way.’

‘War is not a way.’ Daniil snorted frost. ‘We may be warriors but we speak for the people. War is never what they would choose.’

‘No one would choose it, but we should have given our lives for that youngling. You decided he was worth tossing away because you hate the race who killed your family.’

Daniil made a bad-mannered noise low in his throat and snapped his jaws angrily. ‘It was not like that.’

‘Was it not?’ Mikhail asked grimly.

“This argument is ridiculous.” Cathryn stormed into the middle of the three Dragons. “There is no right and wrong here. People were hurt and there is no changing it. We have to move past it. Marina is throwing a tantrum. That is nothing new.” Fisted hands propped on her rounded hips, she boldly met Jakob’s gaze. She flushed, frightened by his size, but did not back down. “I demand to see her.”

Finally, she spoke to him instead of looking through him, or past him to seek the sight of another.

His first direct contact must be the denial of what she wished.

Aggravated, Jakob growled. ‘All must leave.’

“Whatever orders you have can’t be applicable to me.” Cathryn’s tone turned pleading. Her eyes bored into his with heartbreaking honesty. “She wouldn’t.”

The Dragon Lord who read the scroll in human form stepped forward to show her what was written. Names were scrawled on the parchment with Marina’s signature at the bottom.

Cathryn snatched it from the stunned male’s hands. She stared with wide eyes. She blinked, several times, as if doing so would rectify a fault.

A shudder of pure fury shook her from head to foot.

“A fucking death decree. Are you shitting me?” Cathryn flung the parchment at the male’s head. Dragging her fingers to the ends of her mane, she brought them back up to press at her eyes. Her head swung slowly. “This is so sodding Marinaish I believe each bloody word. Damn you people for giving her this much authority.”

Jakob stiffened.

The Dragon Lord tasked with reading the proclamation snarled in affront.

Cathryn sniffed, and looked the male in the eye until he quieted.

She returned her gaze to Jakob. “That wasn’t an insult, not like you think. I know Marina will lead you well. She is remarkable in so many ways. She’s also a stone cold bitch in others. I know how stubborn she can be. She won’t give in now she’s done this, and rather than give her a kick up the backside you’re all encouraging her. Where does that leave us?” She motioned helplessly to the exhausted group behind her, shivering in the cold. “We’re her friends, her family, and she’s shut us out.”

Jakob lifted his chin. ‘We are her family now.’

Her stressed expression told him she did not find his words soothing. She turned to Mikhail. “We shouldn’t have given her time to adjust. I told you we needed to go after her when she released Jakob from the Citadel dungeons and left, but, oh no. You Dragon Lords think you know everything. All we did was give her enough time to dig her heels in and grow bitter.”

Jakob listened to her rage at her party and grew aroused. A tantalizing thought had him stiffening. What if he grabbed her and left? Her companions could not follow. She was too weak to struggle much, and he would keep her so warm and well fed she wouldn’t want to leave him ever. Her small stature, large eyes, and wavy blonde hair were beautiful. Her scent was mouth-watering, her aura stunning in its boldness.

Shaking himself sane, Jakob lowered his eyes to hide his frustration. Cathryn was not Chosen. She was destined to mate a Dragon Lord, and he did not enter relationships that could not end in a mating. He futilely wished he could keep her close, or that she could stay in the palace, so he could see her everyday.

He batted the thought away. Too possessive, she is not mine.

His Dragon did not like that and it rose resentfully to add a gruffer edge to his words. ‘Do not make this harder, woman.’ His desires toward the female mattered not.

Each night he knelt beside Marina and held her hand as she sobbed as if her heart would never again be whole.

Those who claimed to love her betrayed her.

It enraged him, and made him terribly sad.

Time for uncertainty was done. Jakob lifted his chin and glared at the female that made his heart stutter and his belly heat.

She was not for him and never would be.

‘Leave this place. Do not come back. It will mean war.’ He paused and angrily shook his head. His eyes locked with those of the furious fire breathers. ‘Considering what you did to prevent the last it chills me to consider how low you would stoop to win another. Leave. Before I forget my place and deliver the vengeance my Queen is too soft-hearted to bid.’

The immense shadow slipped into the lavish chamber. Black claws dug into blocks of ice as if the seamless wall was soft earth. Frigid cold blew from the slick surface, chilling his breath to jewel-like sparkles of vapour.

Marina tasted his distinctive masculine salt-spice scent on the wind. Felt the other predator breech the sanctity of her territory. His entry into her lair was no shocker.

Anger stirred.

It was hot and thick at the back of her throat, ugly and evil in the pit of her stomach.

And yet she found no desire to cry for help.

Koen Raad began the night as a Dragon. A mournful, roaming beast denied his mate.

Now he shifted human and strode across the rugs to smooth a burning touch down his female’s back. His head lowered, body bending as he covered her from behind and buried his face into the crook of her neck and shoulder.

He breathed in.

Trembled and exhaled shakily.

Marina’s eyes closed as she swallowed. Her breathing coarsened, and her mind floated, aimless, allowing herself a moment to enjoy him. Desire spiralled through the haunting ache. The pressure and stress of their separation eased, and she leaned into his embrace. Her heart beat slow and full for the first time since she left his side.

“Treasure,” he rasped hungrily. “I need you.”

Koen’s heart tripped then thundered in his chest. He never thought being humbled by his female would be a spiritual experience. He’d always believed the act would be the most debasing, soul-destroying event in his life. The moment she had wrapped her maw around his throat – mercilessly holding his life hostage in exchange for his submission – had been the single most profound experience of his existence. He understood the unbreakable bonding theorised to occur during a Phoenix’s defeat by the warrior strong enough to be his mate, but to actually experience the overwhelming power of Marina’s might had been all-consuming.

He could not be without her now.

There would be hours, years, and forever of slow, gentle exploration.

This could come later.

After he took what he needed.

Scooping her off her feet, he spun. He lifted her legs over his hips and tore away the flimsy fabric hugging her body.

She did not fight.

Someone had prepared her, told her how it would be.

There was no fear in her eyes, only incandescent love shielded by a hurt diamond-hard.

He was stiff, ready for her, and his erection lined unerringly with her core. The thatch of curls brushing his cock-head was raw dampened silk.

Panting, her breasts jerked against his chest. Her hands flitted upward to grip his shoulders. She hitched her legs higher, fluted opening blush-pink, welcoming, knees a steady pressure on his obliques.

A long fingered hand parted her sex, and glided, seeking through her juices for the stiffened, hooded pearl.

Koen’s lungs toiled like bellows.

She was ready.

His.

Pinning her immobile to the tapestry blanketing the cold wall, he spread her thighs wider.

He rammed himself inside her.

Marina made a breathy noise of relief. Her forehead dropped to his shoulder and braced there.

Koen pulled back to slam into her again, and again.

All her strength was used in holding on as he pummelled deeper, yet as he thrust her need grew stronger, and she cried out, the sound muffled by the flesh she sank her teeth into. Inner muscles remembered the invasion. They screamed joy as they were ploughed by the deepest of strokes.

Her breathing was a desperate, dry sucking for air.

Her shoulder blades rubbed raw against the fabric rumpling and ripping beneath her straining back.

The loud slap, slap, slap of their bodies colliding drove her quietly insane.

Crossed ankles slipped in sweat, and her heels landed on flexing muscle. Marina moaned at the rhythmic clench-unclench of his buttocks. The violent movement amplified the steel hammering inside, the blunted nails pressing reddened crescents into her flesh, the clawed fingers digging into her thighs and spreading her wide. The solid chest pressed to her breasts created a possessive pressure unlike another, and the beautiful, growling mouth vibrating against her throat was a sensation so feral and decadent her sex spasmed and sucked him deeper.

This wasn’t like before. Marina knew if she moved to break free, one of them would die. Demonized by lust, he’d fight to take her, and she would fight him off to the bitter end. He could never force her. Her Dragon would never allow it, not when he’d submitted and acknowledged she was equal or lead in their alpha pair.

The passion began to hurt. It was too deep, too visceral.

Marina’s body transformed into a lightning rod, and the storm heart swirled around her. She absorbed hit after scorching hit only for the ground to reject the discharge. Fire boiled her blood. The inferno grew hotter, wilder. So strong, she wept and quivered, begged it to explode, to end her agony.

Koen panted her name as he drove his flesh through hers. It was a chant, and a prayer. His dark head snapped back. Their eyes locked. His were green fire alight with hope, death, and life.

A ribbon of darkness, the beast, writhed in rapture beneath the surface of those emerald pools.

Koen’s thrusts slowed, gained body-shaking force.

He stared into his Treasure’s dark orbs and whispered that he loved her.

Pleasure was transcendent, crushing them within its fist. The inferno spread in claws of sensation. It ripped into their guts, breathed fire into their hearts, and erupted through their souls to obliterate their most primal selves.

Gripped with a fever, a kind of madness, Koen Raad kept his prey locked within his arms. He strode to the bed. He laid her down. Crawling over the female he trapped her exquisite body beneath his. He claimed her lips and slid back inside. He feasted. He took her body fiercely, violently, until she clung to him and gasped his name as they shattered.

In the blue dark of the morning, their stares once again locked. Both looked slightly startled, shocked at the battle fought within the bounds of their flesh.

Covers bunched to the waist, their bodies were separated by distance Marina put between them.

“I’m worried if you stay I’ll look at you one day and hate you.” Her hands tucked under her head. Tears pooled above her lashes. “I don’t want that.”

“Your hatred will not make me leave you.”

“I feel guilty.”

Irresolute, his head tilted. He did not speak and neither did she. Until she clasped his hand and pulled it to her stomach.

“This should be a moment of happiness. I should want you to hold me.” Her lips twisted in a horrible grimace. “He should be here for me to tell him he’s going to be a big brother. I’m afraid, Koen. This last month I’ve been scared to even move. I couldn’t protect one child so how will I manage this? These helpless babies.” She paused. Whispered, “I can feel them through the otherness. She lets me feel them, lets me know they’re safe.”

Koen’s heart stopped. Its next thud resounded. His fingers dug into her middle, and he inhaled harshly as pure joy exploded through him. Words flew from his mouth without thinking. “I would never let anything happen to our offspring.”

Truth stabbed his heart. Wincing, he flinched. He had already broken the promise.

She suffered because of it.

“Oh?” Her eyes were brittle gemstones. It was a cold, desolate look he knew only existed because of what he’d done to her. “And that is a promise I can depend on?” She shifted uneasily then sighed, regretful. “I’m frustrated and angry, Koen. Rationally, Daniil only did what he felt was best, and you made a decision under unimaginable stress.” Her breathing hitched. “But I can’t just forgive, because rationality doesn’t protect him. He’s suffering. You did that. My Dragon wants your bleeding heart in my fist. I refuse to rampage, but I need some solace. I’m sorry.”

“No apologies. I know what the beast craves. I do not condemn you for following your heart.” Tired of being held at arm’s length he closed the space between them. He ignored her feeble protest and the hard shove at his chest. “Yes, you are strong. You are a warrior and deserve nothing but respect.” They locked gazes. “You have it. Your beauty entrances me, but it is the valour of your heart that binds me to you.” His hand stroked between her breasts. “It links us soul to soul.”

Her lashes lowered. Her icy heart warmed.

There was no higher compliment from so mighty a male. The first blush of youth dimmed with age, and every woman possessed a measure of beauty to entice her mate. To earn a male’s respect and know he revered you for the strength of your courage while worshiping your body with desire was rare.

“Hm.” A long finger tipped her chin. Her eyes met glittering emeralds. “Do you understand you are mine and I cannot let you go? No law will keep me from you. Send me from your side. I shall return. Send an army to keep me away. I shall crush it.” He caressed her face then cupped her throat. He brought her face closer to his. She would not mistake the depth of his severity. He loved her, accepted her strength matched his own, but she could be stubborn to the point of menace. “Never hide from me, Treasure. Once is all you get.”

“You’d take away my choice?”

He regarded her. Snorted. “I am not asking you to forgive me. No more than I could forgive the Houses I destroyed when I believed you dead. You truly wish me gone? Say it.” He paused, decisive. “I will not live without you. Be certain in your choosing.”

Dragons chose when they died.

Her fingers dug into the flesh of his biceps at the thought of him leaving. She would never be whole without him.

Marina clung tighter and burrowed against his chest. Was it braver to accept when a male brought you to your knees, or to fight to the bitterest end?

We can accept this. The thought was born from the complete unity of woman and Dragon. Embrace our male. He hurts too.

“Stay. I fucking adore you. But a part of me is dying. The pain is unbearable. So stay.” She sobbed brokenly, so tired of feeling as if she shattered in slow motion. “I hurt. I can’t stop hurting for him, Koen.”

He cradled her within his embrace and held her through the night as she wept.

EPILOGUE

Heat radiated from the baked ground. The sun set long ago but the sands sucked its heat deep, and would radiate it into the cooler night for hours to come.

Skidding to a stop, Ryuk crouched behind a low cluster of boulders and panted for breath.

“Hells.” Viktor dropped onto his knees beside him, shoulders hunched as he gasped for air. Pale, almost colourless hair swept over his dark blue eyes. “We cannot carry on like this. It will be quicker if we fly.”

Ryuk shook his head. “They know about you now. Scouts will be scouring the skies. I will not risk you.”

Breathing deeply, Viktor said what they were both thinking. “It will give Pasha a greater chance. She might survive.”

Their eyes locked, joint pain echoing between them. The net Zaki cast had been tightening around them for months. Knowing it was the end Ryuk had ordered the woman to leave with an escort and head for the Dragon Lands. It would be a miracle if they made it past the sentries guarding the borders, but it was better than the old woman being tortured to death for the crime of loving him, helping him stay alive.

Pasha and Viktor had kept Ryuk sane the last seven years. After the horrors he’d seen, Ryuk knew he would’ve gone mad long before had they not remained at his side, unwavering in their support, even in the face of death.

He had tried to get Viktor to leave, argued with the ice breather most of the day, but he staunchly refused.

The army the Eldernmoot originally amassed for him was broken and scattered. His most loyal were put to death in sickening ways, discouraging any others who had a thought to join him.

It was over – if it ever really begun.

“I failed you,” Viktor said quietly. His stammer had all but disappeared during the years of his maturity. At times of stress and great emotion, it confounded him again. “I am s-sorry, my friend.”

“No.” Vehement, Ryuk grabbed the male by the scruff of his neck, dragged him closer. They butted heads. “You saved me. Never doubt it.”

Viktor slapped his cheek and shoved him away. “She loves you, you know.”

“I do not need a pretty lie to make death more palatable.”

“I still do not believe she gave you up. I cannot. I–” The male shut up at the sound of shifting rocks skittering down the boulder they hid behind.

They were discovered.

Tired of being hunted like a dog, Ryuk stood, and stared straight into the dead eyes of his uncle-by-marriage.

Viktor shifted into dragonskin and fearlessly attacked the hundred-strong legion of Battle Mages closing rank around them.

Chin lifting, Ryuk snorted derisively as his uncle circled him. He would show no fear. He met the man’s gaze steadily. “Zaki.”

The Battle Lord eyed the ragged would-be-King before him then let his attention drift to the indigo Dragon roaring as fiery whips of magick bit into his scales and pinned him to the harsh desert sand.

“Does it bring you comfort, Ryuk, to know I will kill your pet slowly?” He looked around. “I do not see the crone. Did you tire of her?” A sick grin split his thick lips. “You kept her around a long time, ugly, used up thing. But I suppose pussy is pussy, eh, boy?”

As the man spouted his bile, Ryuk’s mind wandered. His life had not been all bad. There had been hungry nights. Sleepless nights. Nights spent with his body on fire and only his tears for comfort. Bloody nights of death caused by his hands. They could never be washed clean. Then there had been a glorious time of sunshine. In the darker hours, he thought back to that time. He thought of himself not as a Prince, but as a child assassin who found home in the arms of a woman. He thought of himself as Boy. Bitterness had long dug poisoned claws into his heart. She betrayed him, but he could not stop loving her. He missed her every moment of everyday, and wished he had seen her one last time, soaked in her sunshine one more moment, before they dragged him back to hell. He wished he could feel her soft, protective touch upon his brow, her lips pressing against his cheek as she sought to soothe him. Her love had been a solid, all encompassing thing he’d been both drawn to and terrified of.

A sharp slap to his cheek brought him back. Harsh reality. No sunshine, no love. There was hatred and endless dark.

The drapes of Zaki’s crimson tagelmust fluttered in a sandy breeze. He lifted his sabre. The sharp edge was angled to cleanly sever head from body. The hooked blade gleamed dully in the moonlight.

Ryuk closed his eyes.

Endless sunshine.

Love.

“Mother,” he whispered.

Darkness descended.

A ragged scream of pain tore from the pit of Marina’s soul.

She jerked straight up in bed.

Sweat poured down her face, and she scrubbed her palm over her pounding heart, flailed a hand over the furs seeking the comfort of her husband’s heat.

Awakened by her cry, Koen’s predator gaze already peered into the gloom of their chamber. He protectively curved his body around her when he found no physical threat. “Treasure?”

Doors carved from ice burst open.

Naked and enraged, Jakob stormed into the room.

Clearly wrenched from the depths of sleep, he slammed to stop, legs braced, arms held out ready to grapple a foe.

When he found no opponent he straightened, his broad chest heaving.

His sliver eyes clouded with confusion. “Marina?”

A worried guard hovered in the doorway, katana drawn. “My Lord?”

“Secure the royal young,” Jakob replied tersely, finalizing the order with a stern look over his shoulder. “Double their guard. And do not let them wheedle their way in here.”

The guard saluted then fled.

Gripping Koen’s arms, Marina stared beseechingly into his rugged face. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she gasped for air. “I felt him. He needs me, Koen. It wasn’t a dream. Don’t tell me it’s just a dream. Believe me.” Her head fell onto his shoulder and her body shuddered as she wept.

Koen Raad stroked the smooth expanse of his mate’s trembling back. He jerked his head, silently commanding Jakob to seal the entrance. He brushed the satin fall of Marina’s hair behind her sweat-dampened shoulders. He cupped her face in his hands, rubbed his thumbs over her cheeks. “Look at me. Breathe.”

She did, and part of him calmed. Her eyes were wide with fear, but focused, lucid.

His mate had become a strong female few dared cross. In the beginning there had been as many attempts on her life as their had on his. Their uncompromisingly brutal response to all threats soon had the Courts cooling their heels, accepting Emperor and Empress Raad where here to stay.

The Ice Realm burgeoned into a vibrant city that drew more settlers by the day. Construction was continuous, expanding the city limits to provide housing for their newly sworn citizens. The slave trade had been fully abolished almost four years past. Occasionally word reached them of a Dragon Lord gathering support to revive the flesh trades. Crushing opposition led by the Queen herself swiftly quelled it. Foundlings from the Drackai and Wyvrae thrived in the Royal Orphanage, cared for as members of a large family. The distinction and separation between peasant, citizen, merchant and noble remained great, but few of the needy starved or froze to death, as had been the accepted norm.

Life was not perfect, but it came tremendously close.

Their twin offspring were hair-raising terrors loved by all. Dark like their parents, their bottomless eyes were filled with piercing intelligence, and their angelic faces promised their looks would mature into breathtaking masculine beauty.

No progeny was perfect, and their prettiness was something Koen resolved to fix with battle scars.

Contentment was thwarted by a steely streak of darkness.

Marina dreamed of the offspring they lost. She woke panicking, and spent the days after in a perpetual cloud of misery. Even after the birth of their sons, she never stopped longing for the golden-haired child she claimed as her own. She’d attempted to track him in the past – to no avail – yet never had she begged and pleaded as if not to find him would kill her.

“Zaki has him, Koen.” She grabbed his wrists, grip white-knuckled. “He’s hurting him.”

“Marina–”

“Send for Mikhail.” Her voice cracked like whip. Gathering a mantle of power, she held him tighter, the Dragon rising to take control. “Anastasia too.”

“She will bring her mate,” Jakob warned, watching all with palpable apprehension.

The male was known to be rabid in the protection of his Queen.

Marina hissed. “I’ll put up with Daniil if I must.”

Koen’s beast snarled as his mate wrestled for control with him. Her own creature stared back stonily. Marina exhaled shakily as their Dragons battled for dominance, both unwilling to yield.

Therefore, to break the deadlock, she sent her appeal to the male she loved. “I’ve done as you asked. I’ve stood aside waiting for the war to be over. Seven years,” she breathed. Her head tossed as if she were in drgaonskin shaking her horns. “No more. I can’t stay here knowing he’s suffering. I no longer care if you believe me. No more excuses. The boys are older, the Realm is thriving, and the Emperor is safe.”

Both males shared a look of alarm.

Her chin lifted imperiously. “I’m not afraid to go alone. One female entering the Barren won’t start a war.”

“You are not just any female,” Jakob said sharply.

“Look me in the eye and tell me if this was your offspring you wouldn’t do the same.”

Jakob ground his back teeth together.

“I am sick of staring into the Wastelands wondering if today is the day I’m brought word Zaki has murdered him.” Her shoulders squared. She swept aside the furs and climbed off the large bed carved from a solid slab of ice. “We’re going into the Barren and putting B–Ryuk on that throne.”

Jakob tilted his head. “I am coming with you.” Uncompromising. Final.

Marina Zar, Queen of the Ice Realm and Guardian of the Dragon Emperor met her mate’s implacable stare. “You’re coming too. Cathryn will watch the twins.”

Hearing the beautiful Regent’s name, Jakob growled low in his throat. The sound cut as he realized his blunder, and he averted his gaze when his Queen smirked in amusement.

Koen Raad stared into his Treasure’s onyx eyes and knew he had lost the battle. He left the bed. Banding an arm around her waist, he hauled her slight weight to his chest.

He firmly gripped the nape of her neck.

It had never been done.

Should they break the treaty and enter the Barren hunting a Battle Lord, interfering with the monarch of their enemy, their lives would be forfeit.

There would be blood.

Death.

Destruction.

The mystical power of his Dragon soul overflowed to merge and blend with hers in an elemental clash of fire and ice.

Sliding a hand up his chest, Marina cupped his throat.

When Koen Raad smiled, it was predatory. “Very well.”

Did you love Burn? Then you should read Chaos Theory by Penelope Fletcher!

Kali doesn't know what to make of Blue. His mind intrigues her, and his body attracts her in the worst way. Fascinated, she accepts when he asks her on a date then is abducted by aliens. Kali escapes captivity to discover planet Earth under attack, and the only thing standing between life and death is Blue, a boy alien to her in every way conceivable.

Read more at Penelope Fletcher’s site.