Although the sight of it eluded me at this distance, I knew a scroll was attached to its foot. It flew with purpose, soaring toward home, to the loft where the message would be read.
That parchment carried my future—a promise that I’d sail to another nation and marry a stranger to save my people. Signed in blood, a Draconis oath could only be purged by dragonfire.
Tsunami lurched, caught the updraft, and veered toward the dove.
“No!” I screamed, but the queen was already moving, already scrambling to the edge. Her massive form blocked my view as she towered over me, a deafening roar ripping from her throat.
Jaws snapped just shy of the poor bird, and it plummeted.
Gyrak shot between Tsunami and the dove, his wings a blur. Argos flew toward the Spire, and his enormous paw snatched the falling creature out of the air.
The great black dragon hovered a breath, and I locked eyes with my father across the expanse. Sorrow darkened his gaze, lips twisting into a pained smile before his beast descended, spiraling toward the earth. They pulled up at the last moment and veered for the landing, a jagged outcrop that led to the throne room.
My father had not surrendered me willingly. I saw it in the tightness of his jaw, the way his hands shook before he shoved it behind a mask of stoicism. To ask me to marry a prince in a foreign kingdom wasn’t a decision he made lightly. It was a sacrifice that weighed heavy on him—on both of us. Our people were starving, their bellies hollow, their strength faltering.
Our island could only sustain so much. Any crops we managed to grow withered beneath the relentless seasonal whirlstorms. The wind tore through the fields, as though the earth itself was protesting, scattering the seeds before they could take root. And with each passing season, it became harder to coax life from the soil.
My people needed food to survive, to push into the Wild Shores and expand. They depended on me to forge alliances and secure their future.
No, it wasn’t an easy thing for the Dragon King to give me away, but it was his duty to use me.
Just as it was my duty to marry the prince of Radaan.
Chapter One
Nienna
Iburned with the need to kiss my betrothed.
Quite literally.
Heat bloomed within, forming beads of sweat at my temples. Scythe leaned over, her fingertips brushing my skin as she dabbed at the perspiration along my brow. A sharp breath caught in my throat, my body fighting to wrangle the internal raging blaze. It was as if Argos, my father’s dragon, bathed me in his flames.
“Not much longer now,” Edith murmured, the lady’s maid my mother insisted I bring, her voice meant to soothe.
I pressed a hand to my ribs, struggling to swallow the dryness that clung to my throat. The weight of it all sank deep within me. I’d never been a decent Vessel. In years past, my father humored my attempts to carry magic, to bear it like our people who used the magic from the Dragon Riders. But I always failed. The dragon’s power slipped through my fingers, scattering like ashes on the breeze.
My lack of control marked me as weak, a flaw we worked hard to conceal.
Gyrak crooned from above, his wings cutting through the sky. He sensed my discomfort and circled, his call soft yet insistent, as though trying to ease my pain. I forced a smile, ignoring the ache that gnawed at me, and turned my gaze out the window. My brother Ronan and his dragon Gyrak accompanied us. Their presence served as more than a royal escort, but as a deterrent against the Velli.
I studied the vibrant city as we neared. Rolling plains stretched wide, quilted with golden and emerald fields, the sunlight glinting off ripe wheat as wavesrippled through the crops. Sturdy, quaint houses lined the cobblestone road, bluebirds flitting about around them. Laughter filled the air as commoners grinned, their joy as bright as the day itself. They had reason for joy—the treaty with Vellos had been sealed just a fortnight ago. The war was over, and my father’s final demand regarding my marriage was met. He was no different from any other king, willing to use his daughter to secure alliances. But he drew a line when it came to my safety.
My journey began the day the dove arrived. When I spotted the bird clutching the news, a heady mix of dread and relief warred within. The uncertainty of my future faded—the guessing game of who I’d marry put to an end. However, the knot in my stomach remained, knowing I would wed a stranger.
Ronan knew Prince Tallon. He called him immature—hardly the verdict I expected from my younger brother.
But I could do worse.
The flames inside surged, desperate to break free. A gasp slipped from my lips, and I ducked my head, eyes squeezed shut against the pain. The magic clawed at me, a torrent of fire waiting to burst. I clenched my fists, focused on maintaining an iron hold.
Scythe pressed a cool cloth to my brow, her touch a fleeting relief. My gown strangled me, the fabric a silken cage. The air thickened, each breath harder than the last. I couldn’t breathe—couldn’t escape the stifling pressure.
Each bump and jolt brought on waves of agony. A whimper tore out as the carriage lurched over the bridge, and I clutched the padded seat to keep from combusting.
“Almost there—loosen her hair,” Edith said, voice sharp. Scythe moved with haste as the older maid focused on lacing up my boots with practiced hands.
I envied Radaanian style of dress. Their garments were modest, yet far freer than ours. As a Draconis, the rules were strict—trousers for men, breeches for women. To be caught without them was to be shunned. And anyone daring to wear sandals would put a stain on their family name.
