Mounting the horse, which snorted underneath me, I gathered the reins in my hand and sent Alaric a quelling look. “I have more power than I need, and the queen-regent is much too… enthusiastic for my tastes.”
No, the princess would suit my needs nicely. If nothing else, her disgrace from the throne should make her more biddable, I hoped. The last thing I needed was another strong-willed, demanding female to share my bed. There were quite enough of those already.
I waved to the gathering of Dragon-Clan members from the village and servants pouring from the castle to see me off.
“If you’re counting on this girl to be as docile as you’re imagining, I have a feeling you will be disappointed,” Alaric said. “What if she turns out to be your true mate?”
At that, I laughed. “I have no interest in anything other than an heir. As long as she’s pregnant within the year, I won’t be disappointed. Besides, no shifter, even a princess, is a match for my dragon.”
I made no mention of true mates—such a thing was legend among our people. A faerie tale to encourage children to make favorable matches or what adolescent girls told themselves to make marrying an ancient match more attractive. True mates were a thing of lore—Immortal mates who would bring Acasia back fromdamnation.
My horse snorted, and I patted his shoulder. “Indeed,” I murmured.
* * *
Seven interminable nightspassed since I departed from my beloved mountains in Fellenor, the Northlands’ capital city. A small regiment of men accompanied me across the Northlands at a breakneck pace where we boarded a ship in the tiny village of Haran on the coast. Crossing the Frozen Bay had been arduous and required long hours in my shifted form, breathing fire at the glaciers that blocked our path. I would melt them and they’d freeze as soon as the ship was through.
By the time we reached the Corinthine Woods just north of the capital city of Aurelia, frost coated the furs worn by most of the regiment. A vicious blizzard blotted out all sight when we disembarked from the ship, but I could tell the moment I set foot to frost that something was wrong. The port village of Braedon was little more than a shantytown, a stop for travelers on their way to the Northlands. Despite this, it was too quiet, too still. Though the village was small, the times I’ve traveled to and from the Northlands, it bustled with life.
The only sound came from the howling of the wind as it whipped through our furs and capes. The swirling snow hampered visibility to mere feet in front of us.
“Do you smell that?” my lieutenant, Adriel, asked. At his words, the others in our small group scented the air.
I lifted my head to the wind, my nostrils flaring as I pulled in a deep breath. An acrid taste bathed the back of my throat and coated my tongue. A familiar taste. Ash and ember and brimstone.
“Fire,” Adriel breathed. “There’s a fire close.”
Drawing my weapon, I motioned the others behind me. The scent of burning wood and blistering leather grew stronger as we pierced the blizzard’s lacy arms in the direction of town. Soon, the white flurries became tinged with gray soot, dancing along with the pristine flakes. It smeared on our faces and coated our boots and furs in a thick layer of grime. Adriel was the first to reach the outer edges of Braedon. What he saw brought him up short.
The village, what was left of it, was a smoldering ruin. Tendrils of black smoke curled up from what remained of the wooden buildings and mixed with the falling snow, turning the ground at our feet to soiled slush. It was eerily quiet. Not even the animals in the nearby forest made a sound.
We moved in closer, silent as the shadows, and I shifted into my half-Dragon form. Scales erupted in patches over my body, up my throat and down my arms, providing both armor against potential attack and protection against the elements, as I shed my furs and cloak to make it easier to maneuver through the wreckage. My harsh exhalations turned to steam and my eyes became glazed, focused, allowing me to view our surroundings at a level so minuscule I could see each spark from the embers in a nearby fire in acute detail.
My voice, when I spoke, was a deeper rumble. “Stay on guard,” I ordered. “Whoever set these fires could still be close.”
I circled around the perimeter as my men ventured farther into the village to investigate. There were fresh tracks leading south from the village on the road toward the capital. Whoever had attacked had left on foot, human foot. If it had been a shifter, they would have used their shifted form to make a faster getaway. Tooth and claw and wing were far more effective than human flesh and bone.
Adriel had reached the same conclusion. “I’ve never seen humans attack this far north. They’ve grown bold. Too bold.”
I gnashed my fangs. The people of Braedon were distant members of the Dragon-Clan, those who could not stomach the blustery Northlands winters, but wanted to be near their home—or the one they used to have before it all went to Slaine. They were supposed to be able torely on me for protection and I’d failed them. Again. Not only were they suffering from the curse intended for me, but it cost them their lives.
If I had any doubts about following through with the deal I’d made with the Darkmoores, this attack had eradicated them. I’d mate the damn girl, and exact my revenge on those responsible for killing my people when the time was right.
They’d regret the day they crossed the Dragon-Clan.
I’d make sure of it.
3
Elena
The journey back to the home I never thought I’d see again was miserable. A wintry wind fought us every step of the way. It didn’t escape my notice that I could consider the perilous journey an omen. The Goddess wouldn’t be the only one displeased by my return.
If Gideon had any misgivings, he didn’t tell me, preferring to keep to his own carriage when he wasn’t overhead in his shifted form as a proud hawk. The distance between us didn’t help my growing dread. When we were younger, he’d often shift when it was just the two of us and fly overhead for hours while I raced through the nearby woods. His loud birdcall would nip at my heels and I would fill the trees with my shrieks of laughter. He had never made me believe I wasless of a person because I couldn’t shift.
There was no laughter now, no carefree exploring. Gideon had become stoic in my absence, resolute, and it showed. Stoicismd in Acasia, especially in men, and I knew Gideon did what he could in the years since I’ve been gone to fight tooth and claw out of our father’s hotheaded shadow. I glanced through the frosted window of my carriage and found him just above our line of guards. His flight hadn’t wavered since we set off on the last, most brutal leg of our journey.
A part of me couldn’t help but wonder if he stayed in shifted form on purpose so he wouldn’t have to socialize with me. I wouldn’t blame him, not really. I’d let more than just myself down when it became common knowledge that I was declared unfit for the throne. Now, the only value I could provide was my body, and how it could service the infamously deadly Lord of the Dragon-Clan.
