“You four are never gentle. Especially not after you’ve just shifted back into your dragons. I take responsibility since I’m just so irresistible.” I’d been an unknowing virgin a year ago, but it seemed like after that hurdle was crossed, the dragon princes couldn’t have enough.
Was it because of their fear? Their worry?
We still hadn’t found anything that would stop Aereala from taking over my body to save the Drae Lands. The goddess had come to me in visions a year ago. She explained that my curse—the one making it impossible for me to touch dragon-kind without giving others pain—was a result of her essence swirling through me. My body was a vessel for her to come down and take, so she could fix the imbalance of our world.
“Irresistable, you are,” Rylan said, wrapping a muscled arm around my waist. A squealing sound interrupted our flirting.
“Not over here!” a male shrieked as he giggled. “Sera’s going to kill me.”
“Serves you right for running away from me, you majestic beast.”
Majestic? Neither of those voices sounded majestic nor beastly. They were boyish, belonging to a couple of young lads.
The smoldering expression on Rylan turned to confusion. He tried to fight past it and leaned down for another kiss. He tasted amazing, but then the voice continued. “You shouldn’t touch me over there, my majestic dragon, you know how it makes me. Oh, you really should leave me alone, you carrot cake—”
More shrieking, giggling, and sounds erupted. They were kind of sweet but were also killing the vibe between Rylan and me.
Rylan groaned. He picked me up again and kicked our door open.
Was he really going to take me right after that? The puns felt like ice over my skin, freezing away all the heat that was between us earlier.
Rylan lifted his foot and was about to slam the door behind him when shouting interrupted him.
“Sera, wait!” Frederick called from the corridor. I assumed he’d finally managed to break away from his bunny.
I spotted his new lover peeking out from the corner. Torley was a twenty-eight-year-old drerkyn. He stood a head taller than Frederick and had a brown head of hair. He was built well like most other drerkyns. The two of them had lasted a year strong, and Frederick was happier than he’d ever been. He had put on a few pounds because he’d been so distracted by his new love. Losing weight could be such a chore. I didn’t care that he was chubbier. He was my lovable Frederick regardless of what he weighed, and he was way healthier than before so that was good.
What I did care about, however, was how he’d totally just killed any possibility of rough dragon sex between Rylan and me. Rylan spun around to face Frederick, who was neatening his hair. Torley made sure Frederick wasn’t going to have his hair neat, at least, not without a mirror and a comb. Frederick shrugged, giving up, and stopped in front the both of us with his frazzled head of ginger hair.
“Sorry,” Frederick said. “Was I interrupting something?”
I narrowed my gaze at him. “I don't know. Were you?”
He pressed his left fist against his right palm. I was about to ask him what in Aereala’s name he was doing, when he lowered his head, bowed, and deadpanned, “Onion-hasaeyo, Your Majesty.”
I was peeved, but he managed to make me crack a smile. “You’re switching to the Shengarian dialect now?”
“I’m really running out of puns.” He sniffed. Torley still watched us from the corner. I didn’t know why he had to hide there. Rylan and I both knew he was there. “Anyway, Vanjar sent me. She’s leaving a day early, and she wants to say goodbye.”
“Why a day early?” Rylan asked. He wore a half-bored, half-annoyed expression. I guessed the bored part was just him trying to keep down his anger. I’d expected him to put me down by this point. It was a bit strange talking to my best friend while still cradled in his arms, if not somewhat undignified.
“Baekeil’s worried. He’s being hotheaded again and told Vanjar by piegfowl if she didn’t return home by today he’d send troops here.”
“He keeps threatening to send troops over.”
And when Baekeil actually did send a small platoon to fetch Vanjar, we had invited them in to enjoy nice bowls of soup. The kitchen staff ended up floundering while whipping up so many meals on such short notice.
They didn’t like Baekeil much.
“Best send her off before the chefs go into a riot,” I said, chuckling to myself.
I still hadn’t decided what to think about Baekeil. The Beyestiryans were too unpredictable.
I knew one thing, however—they kept petitioning for my return. I visited, from time to time, but Constanria was my home and I preferred the warmer weather, even though it could get too humid at times. Plus, Rylan was king here. And I was his queen. Only by law. His. “Did Vanjar manage to tame the ingorias this time?” I asked. Mayhem, Grunt, and Aura had grown. They couldn’t stay in my room anymore because they were now the size of horses.
Frederick shook his head. “No. Those beasts are impossible to tame. The handlers keep them separated for the most part. Every time Grunt and Mayhem are put together, they fight, and Aura chooses side with either, depending on her mood.”
I sighed. “I’ll have a look at them later. Let’s send Vanjar off.”
Rylan gripped my arm. “Don’t you need to rest?”
“With what you just did to me? I have adrenaline spiking through my veins.”
Frederick darted his eyes between Rylan and me. He, like the rest of the palace staff, probably partook in the gossip regarding the bedroom activities between the princes and me. It didn’t bother me because I had nothing to be ashamed about. We had to focus on figuring out a way to stop the Drae Lands from dying. To stop the people I loved from dying. And to stay alive.
We had better things to worry about.
And then there was Vanjar.
“We should hurry,” I said, ignoring my tiredness. "Vanjar doesn't like waiting." Fighting exhaustion was an essential skill when trying to be an adult and save the world.
“We’re having lunch with my brothers later,” Rylan said. “I was wondering if we should invite Bianca—”
“No.”
“No?”
Rylan had been trying to patch my relationship with my family. Things were . . . strange ever since they’d joined us in the palace. After the death of Ashryn Cadriel, my mother, I’d convinced Rylan to extend an invitation to the rest of my family to stay in the palace. It didn’t take much convincing, since Rylan accepted my plea almost immediately. Bianca and my father moved from Jaerhel's Honor, the town they had lived in, to the palace less than a week later. I kept telling myself I loved my family, but I also remembered the way Mother and Father had treated me with scorn. Bianca never participated, but she did let it happen. I couldn’t smile and pretend my childhood hadn’t gone the way it did.
“She must be busy painting,” I said. “The courts love her, so I don’t think she needs company. Besides, she has Father.”
Rylan sighed. “All right then.”
“Are you going to put me down?” Even though I asked the question, my grip over Rylan’s shoulder tightened.
His bright blue eyes twinkled as a teasing grin split his cheeks. In a lowered, huskier voice, he said, “No. You should know, love. We like carrying you around.”
Chapter Two
“I don’t see the resemblance,” I mumbled.
Rylan had commissioned a new portrait for me. It hung in the hallway, outside the dining hall in a golden, perfectly polished frame.
I’d been depicted as stern in the painting. I wore too much of a frown, and the artist had drawn my clothes too tight.
Should I have gotten Bianca to paint me instead of the Everborne’s hired artist? Her paintings were adored by the court officials; they said Bianca had a knack for capturing the best features of her subjects, and her use of color made everything pop.
The thought of sitting for a whole hour in front of my sister, staring at her and avoiding awkward
conversation, sounded like torture.
I frowned at my grim portrait.
Her Majesty, Sera Everborne.
And I, as queen, waited for her princes to join her for lunch. They were taking an awfully long time. Should I go on without them? My stomach rumbled.
Rylan had given me the title of queen as an executive order. I wasn’t just his queen, but the wife of all the princes, as was my wish. The courts weren’t happy about it—it went against the entire tradition of one man, one woman—but they could shove it up their asses. We wanted a wedding, but we hadn’t managed to get to it. I was too busy trying to contact the goddess and save the world. If we had one, I wanted it to be like a fairy tale.
The ground shook. I clutched my dress and looked over my shoulder, wondering what made the rumbling noise. I peered through the window at the end of the hallway. Gaius, in his dragon form, landed in the courtyard in front of the main building. He had a big draeox in his mouth, and if I was any good at reading dragon expressions, he felt proud of his catch. He tore off a piece of meat from the carcass and burned it, before swallowing it whole.
At least Gaius had it in him to be timely. The rest of his brothers should learn from him. I fished up the hem of my robe from the ground and climbed down the shallow steps of the main building so I could walk through the marbled courtyard to greet him.
He spotted me, so he shifted back into his human form and clothed himself, before striding toward me. He had a smug look on his face. I could tell he felt cocky, but anyone else would thing he was pissed.
He rested his arm on the wall and flexed a tatted arm. “Like my catch? I thought we might have some extra for lunch.”
I looked over his shoulder, tearing my gaze from his amused expression to the carcass laying in the middle of the courtyard. “You could have restrained yourself from biting off a huge chunk of lunch.”
“Wanted to get my fair share before my brothers took more of it from me.” He ran his tongue over his teeth and winked.
“Are you going to bring that in, or are you just going to wait for the servants?”
He cocked his head. “It’s their job, right?”
“And here I thought you’d learned how to stop being an inconsiderate prick.”
He placed his hand over his chest and feigned hurt. “You wound my feelings, love.”
Abruptly, all amusement disappeared from his features and worry replaced it. He grabbed my hand and pressed it against his face, kissing the inside of my palm. “How was the visit to the field today?”
Gaius was the most worried about Aereala coming down. I kept cautious hope, and the rest of the princes, although they worked hard to figure ways to solve the problem, avoided talking about it. Gaius kept circling around the inevitable, raising the difficult questions.
I hated seeing him sad. It made my heart constrict. “It was fine,” I answered.
He caught my chin between his index finger and thumb, so he could tilt my gaze to reach his. Others would think Gaius abrasive, difficult to deal with. Only I really knew he was a sweetheart, and his eyes gave all his emotion away. “You’re exhausted.” He leaned in so his breath was hot on my cheek. Carefully, softly, he brushed his fingers across my skin.
I laughed, trying to dissipate some of the tension. “I’m not toppling over anytime soon.”
His features twitched, but there was no smile. “Did you get any more visions from Aereala?”
I shook my head. “The last time she came was six months ago.”
“Which means you’re not overdoing your spells.”
The last time Aereala showed, it was in the middle of one of my field-restoration sessions. I’d restored too many crops that week. I’d blanked out when Aereala met me. Once I did, the princes went into a frenzy. Due to the strain, my health had taken a toll, and Aereala warned me that using my power unsustainably would harm my body too much, interfering with my ability to be her vessel. After that vision, I woke up feeling like Gaean’s balls.
“I couldn’t help it,” I said. “Beyestirya was running low on supplies.”
Gaius growled. “I don’t care about Beyestirya.” He tucked my hair into my ear. “I’m more concerned about your health.”
“That’s touching, Gaius, but aren’t you worried about dear Akirya?” Akirya was Vanjar’s son—the young prince of Beyestirya—and had a good relationship with Gaius.
Gaius screwed his nose up. “He has my cousin to make sure he’s fed.”
I tipped a brow. “And I make sure Vanjar has the means to do that.”
He brushed my hair away from my face and pressed his forehead on mine. “Sometimes I hope she’d show up and tell you that she’s found another way. That you’re not needed anymore.” He blew out a soft sigh, his warm breath against my cheek. He pulled away, and I saw the pain, the fear, flicker in his eyes.
He swept away like it was nothing. We’d gotten very good at that—hiding away fears. We needed a good hold of our wits when trying to lead a country.
He twined his fingers with mine. “Now, how would you like me to cook lunch?”
“You’re cooking?”
“Julius has been teaching me a couple of things. I think I’m starting to get quite good, culinarily speaking.”
A small, timid voice interrupted us. “Uummm.”
I followed the direction of the voice to see Bianca, with her thick bangs, long straight hair, big round eyes, and slender frame. She fit in perfectly with the court ladies, unlike me. I’d heard from my father that she’d gotten plenty of suitors in Jaerhel’s Honor during her time there. He couldn’t stop shoving it in everybody’s face. She darted her gaze about as she circled her fingers around her wrist.
“I was . . . wondering . . .” Bianca murmured. Her voice was so low it was difficult to understand what she said.
“Wondering?” I prompted, after the silence between us stretched too long.
She turned to Gaius, and suddenly, her voice was calmer, stronger, slightly more confident albeit soft. “I was wondering if I could join you for lunch? I mean,” she scratched the back of her head, “I was just painting around the corner, and it looked like you guys might be going somewhere.”
Painting? Did that mean that she saw Gaius, my Gaius, strutting around naked and might have caught his shape in her brush strokes?
It wasn’t actually that big of a deal, since the princes were dragon-shifters and probably half the palace had seen their glorious forms. Possessiveness rose in me. I needed to get over this jealous habit of mine. Sometimes it became irrational. Maybe it came from growing up with too little, and suddenly, when things worth treasuring popped up, I didn’t want to lose them under any circumstance.
Gaius narrowed his eyes. I wanted to say no to Bianca, but Gaius did it for me. “Perhaps another time. Is the food that we send to your quarters unsatisfactory?”
She dipped her gaze, and by accident, caught mine. “No, it is. Sorry. Thank you.”
She scrunched the fabric of her dress up and scampered away. What was that? Why the sudden change in demeanor when talking to Gaius?
Gaius looked to his waist, where I realized I’d clasped a bit too tightly. “Sera, I’m not going anywhere.” He had a hint of a smile against his lips. Seemed like he enjoyed my jealousy.
“Sure.”
“You always get nervous whenever Bianca’s around.”
“We have a strange relationship.”
He snorted. “That’s obvious.” He bit his jaw tight, flexing it. “But I think she was trying to make up with you.”
“Make up?”
“Yeah. To get closer to you. I said no on your behalf because you didn’t seem to want to dine with her. Your face was so pale it looked like paper. But I actually think she was trying to get along.”
I didn’t see that. I was worried she’d try to steal away my princes. She could take anything from me. My position, my wealth, my few supporters. My parents had given her everything, not favoring me, during our entire childho
od. I could live with her taking what I wanted because I was used to it.
But the princes?
I loved Gaius and the others more than anything else in the world, and I would fight like an ingoria guarding her cubs to make sure she didn’t steal them away.
“Your Majesty,” the servant said, as he slipped the cup of tea in front of me.
I bowed my head, acknowledging his presence. He skittered away, tucking his hands inside his robe. I used to smile, make jokes, and attempt to befriend my servants. Despite my efforts, they wouldn’t get along with me. I was apparently too queenly to associate with them. I went from outcast to social pariah by high status. Constanria was strange. It made me miss Beyestirya at times, but really, I shouldn’t care for what people who didn’t matter thought. I was surrounded by plenty of love.
“This is my love for you, Sera,” Frederick said, making a wide gesture to the piles of books and reports surrounding us.
I gave him a confused look. “I don’t get it.”
“You asked for statistics on the Constanrian fauna to flora ratio,” he said. “This is it.”
“Still not getting the love part.”
Frederick huffed. “You are a dragon’s arse.”
“Excuse me?”
“Do you have any idea how long it took for me to figure all this stuff out? I spent the whole night up with Torley poring through census data and—”
Only then did it hit me. “Oh! Well. Thank you. I love you, too?” I glanced at the stacks of books laying on top of the large, squarish table that Micah, Frederick, and I sat around. “That’s a hefty load of um . . . affection . . . to conquer.”
He made another huffing noise, then slipped a sheet of paper out from a thick book. “That’s the one you want to look at first. It summarizes it all.”
“How do I repay you?” I asked.
Mischief flickered across his face. “Now that’s a loaded question. You can kiss my feet, for one.”
“I can try and bake a treat today? The servants are raving about this new biscuit recipe and I could ask them for some—”
Fall of Dragons (Sera's Curse Book 3) Page 2
