Page 27 of Courting the Dragon King

What did it say about Shadow King Lament’s hatred of Wraith that he would rather look at the now-king of a kingdom he’d been at war with than at Wraith?

But honestly, Wraith was grateful that this was the extent of the shadow king’s hatred. He could have just killed Wraith for what Wraith had done.

“May your union be blessed,” the shadow queen said. Then she looked at Wraith. She smiled.

Then the shadow king looked at him, and for the first time, Wraith did not see the usual hatred.

And amongst all the pain of the day, Wraith found himself feeling something other than just despair. He might be stuck in a horrible marriage, but at least he’d pleased the shadow king and queen.

Chapter

Fourteen

Konrad sipped his wine.

He had done it. He’d married a necromancer. Finally, after everything, he’d fulfilled his promise to his dead father. The peace treaty was so close to being finalised and thwarting those who had worked against it. His kingdom’s future looked brighter.

Konrad looked at the locket given to him by the high priestess. The silver skull stared at him with its empty sockets. He scowled.

There had been a battle during the war. The Draconians had thought it to be an easy victory. The undead army had been greatly outnumbered. The land force had quickly overwhelmed the Necros forces on the ground with assistance from the dragons in the sky.

The Necros army had retreated. The Draconian army had given chase. Konrad and the other dragons had flown above, tasting the triumph on their lips. They’d pursued the Necros forces through mountains and dead-looking forests to a field. Like many areas in Necros, it had lacked trees, plants, or any clear signs of life.

Then, as their army ran across the field, the skeletons had risen, white fingers clawing their way through soft dirt. They’d pulled themselves up. They’d swarmed.

It would have been at least ten skeletons to one of their own fighters. Most dragons searched the mountains and forests for the necromancers controlling the reanimated skeletons.

A few, like Konrad, had tried to assist their army. He had landed and fought. But it had been a struggle. Dragonfire could not be safely used without burning up their own army. Konrad had torn at the skeletons with teeth and claws.

But there had been so many. How could they fight against this army of undead? Especially when you could not kill them.

The skeletons had climbed and crawled over Konrad, without any fear or hesitancy. They’d lacked weapons. Instead they’d bitten and scratched at him. But they’d failed to break through his scales. More and more skeletons had climbed him as he’d tried to save his people. They had reached his face and gone for his eyes.

He’d taken to the sky. He’d spiralled and snapped at them. They’d fallen to the earth, shattering into fragments of bone. Then he’d landed again to try to fight the skeletons.

But it was no use.

They had lost almost that entire land army that day. Torn apart by skeletons. Whilst they had managed to locate and kill some of the necromancers controlling them, others had somehow remained hidden and escaped.

Skeletons were not strong, clever, or good fighters. They won with numbers. Throughout the war, they’d captured a few before their necromancer deactivated them, or whatever it was they did to their skeletons.

Draconians had questioned the skeletons. But these creatures, like the reanimated corpses, were mindless and empty. You couldn’t really kill them either. Just break them apart. Even then, it did not seem like they died. You just incapacitated them enough to make them unable to fight.

It had been like that with Anton. You had to actually kill or distract the necromancer who controlled them to return them to death.

After the battle, they’d learnt that the necromancers had buried the skeletons in that field. Their intelligence had never been able to determine whose skeletons they were.

It had been a trap. And they had fallen for it. The necromancers had lured the Draconian army to the field and ambushed them.

Afterwards, scouts had found about twenty sacrificed Draconian soldiers, scouts who’d gone missing. They’d been tied down to makeshift stone altars in a massive circle around the field. Strange patterns and letters had been drawn in blood on their skin. They’d been cut open and their innards pulled out.

Bile rose into Konrad’s throat. He still didn’t understand what those sacrifices had been about. So much of what the necromancers did still remained a complete mystery to the Draconians. But Konrad would never forget the horrors of facing them.

He stared at the locket on the table. What did weaving their hair together do? Should he have refused? It was too late now. He grabbed the locket and shoved it into his pocket.

Wraith glanced quickly at Konrad and then looked away. He’d barely touched his food. He’d picked at his bread slightly and sipped his wine. But that was all.

Why does he not eat properly? What is wrong with him?