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Stenlen wasn’t alone in his views. There were just as many other males that felt the same. As much as they’d wanted to take control of the Aeleftherian colony, none of them had intentions of inflicting harm just for the sake of it. There were always other ways—better ways—to dominate a female, that didn’t involve maiming or death.
Which is exactly what had been at stake, and had resulted in the king’s downfall.
On Kargassa’s orders, Sten and his wingmen had tracked and delivered the king’s heir, Jori.
The ceremony to ensure the heir’s fealty and allegiance had gone terribly wrong. Kargassa had lost his patience and threatened to kill both females present—Jori’s pregnant mate and his mother.
Then, the mountain lair suddenly had a new king, albeit a reluctant one.
Their home was in chaos, fracturing, exposing raw, age-old lava lines threatening to spew. The dragons were in disagreement over who should really wield the power of a king.
“And now, Jori Mountainside is our king. Rightfully acknowledged as heir by the previous king.”
How many times have I said some version of that in the last few days?
Goliath snorted, stepping back from Stenlen. “Who isn’t even a fucking dragon.”
Until moments before the king’s death, Jori had been human, then his dragon had been unleashed for the very first time.
Sten had never seen anything like it, and the mountain had been trembling with residual rumblings since.
“You were there, Goliath. He’s a dragon, and he’s the biggest motherfucking dragon any of us have ever seen.”
“I’m big.”
It was Sten’s turn to snort. “Yeah, and?” He did glance at the others standing behind the Goliath now. “You plan to challenge him?”
“Why don’t you challenge him, Sten?” One of the other guys, Randal, spoke up. “You were Kargassa’s top dragon. If anyone has the right to rule this tribe, it’s you. You’d be a great king. Everyone would accept you.”
Sten locked eyes on him, then returned his glare to the Goliath in front of him. “I believe in the right of ascension, as do most of the other males here. I’m not Kargassa’s blood kin.”
“If you took one of the Aeleftherian royals, you’d have a solid claim.”
Sten shrugged.
“Besides, Mountainside doesn’t have the balls to bring those bitches in line. He’s too much of a pussy himself.” Randal said, eliciting chuckles from the surrounding males.
“Maybe. We’ll see.”
“Or maybe this pussy has the balls to think of something better for this tribe.” Jori said from behind Sten.
Stenlen glanced behind him.
Jori leaned against the door frame, his arms across his vintage Oasis t-shirt, legs crossed at the ankles. He pushed away from the wall and strode toward the group, ignoring the posturing between Goliath and Stenlen.
“Eamerson tells me this place is called Kasa Kargassa.”
Stenlen had been Kargassa’s right-hand man—protection, scouting, tactics…muscle. Eamerson had been his left—politics, strategies…dragonkind resources.
“And?” Goliath turned his attention from Stenlen to Jori.
Sten remained at ease, but ready, in case Goliath lunged at the new king.
But Jori walked right up to Goliath, relaxed; as though he were about to ask him what his favorite snack was, and said, “And I think we should change that.”
Goliath’s head jerked, confusion crossed his face as he looked at Jori. “Change it? To what—Why?”
Jori shrugged, slipped his hands into the pockets of his cargo shorts as he rocked back on the heels of his combat boots. “Whatever you guys want. Because this place belongs to everyone who lives here. Not just one man—dragon.”
