Fall of Dragons (Sera's Curse Book 3)

by Clara Hartley

  Kael flipped us around, so it wasn’t him against the wall, but me. He pushed me into the bricks with his weight. He planted another kiss on my mouth, filling me with his ocean-like taste and the feeling of the winds. Kael Everborne was no longer free like the winds, and I was the shackle who kept him down.

  Kael carried me in his arms, keeping me close to his warm frame, as his white wings caught the chillier winds of the night. It had rained earlier this afternoon, which gave the night sky an almost foggy, red overcast.

  “I still can’t believe you invented that dance,” Kael said, chuckling to himself.

  I groaned. “Side effect of the drinks.”

  “What did you call it again?” He tipped his chin up in thought.

  “Don’t talk about it—”

  “Flight of the Dragon Dynfowl?”

  I buried my face into the palm of my hands. Now that the alcohol had settled into my system, and I wasn’t feeling the heady rush of a couple drinks, I felt embarrassed. But when I had flailed my hands in the air like a madwoman, I truly did think myself a genius.

  “I love you, Sera-kit,” Kael said. “Especially during your crazy moments.”

  A satisfied hum vibrated from my chest as I soaked in the overwhelming sensation of being in Kael’s arms, his heat contrasting with the cool air. “I love you, too. Despite you being literally crazy.”

  He faked shock. “You hurt my heart, my dynfowl goddess.”

  “If you call me that one more time, I’m going to freeze your head off.”

  Kael grinned and landed in front of the main building. It was a smooth landing, and I barely felt the force of the soles of his feet touching the ground. He padded over to the building’s entrance. It had a big, dragon statue decorating the top and a stream of water pouring from its mouth. The water trickled through carved routes on the front walls and flowed toward the ground, where it led to a river that ran toward a steep, cliff edge. Gushing water played through the aristocratic layout of the palace.

  I still loved and admired the architecture of the palace. But it was slightly more challenging to do that today because Rylan and Micah bickered at the arched entrance. They shouted and pointed fingers at each other. They had their wings unfurled behind them. So much tension boiled from them, I was afraid they might break into a fight at any moment.

  “What’s going on?” I asked Kael.

  He shrugged. “Beats me.”

  Did this have something to do with the whole priest thing? We were about thirty minutes late.

  “Oh, they’re back,” Rylan said dryly, flashing Micah a dirty look.

  Kael lingered, even though I knew he wanted to bolt out of there.

  “You could have picked a different day to bring Sera out,” Rylan said to Kael.

  Kael scratched the back of his head. “They’d invited a new, touring troupe to the bar today. They’re supposed to be really good, but I give them a seven out of ten. They’re leaving tomorrow morning.”

  “Seven out of—” Rylan quickly masked his incredulity. “The head priest decided to up and leave.”

  The priest often used a mixture of soul magic and ritual in his attempts to bridge the gap between the spiritual and physical realm. I’d managed to pass the barrier, once, for a second. Rylan wanted to see if we could use those techniques to bring me to the realm out of will, so I could find Aereala whenever I needed to . . . or if we could create a bridge where I could come back after Aereala took my body.

  It was a bit of a stretch, considering the results hadn’t been satisfactory, but we were trying everything we could. I couldn’t go down without a fight.

  Kael harrumphed. “You’re king.”

  “Being king doesn’t mean I get to do anything I want. The head priest is a busy man. He had to show up for a public ceremony today to bless Sera’s new field, and the country waited.”

  “Then why be king?”

  Rylan growled. His hand flew out to his side, and I jolted when his arm punched through the pillar next to him. The stone of the pillar cracked, and the whole structure looked like it might crumble and collapse, but through some work of magic, it managed to stay upright. “And now we’ve wasted a day.”

  “It’s a day,” Kael said. “Just one.”

  “Every minute matters, Kael. Especially now when we have so little time. A year has passed and what have we found?” He turned around to point at Micah. “And you, you let Kael take her! You knew he wouldn’t care for the appointments.”

  “Duties, appointments,” Micah sighed. “I thought Sera might need some fun.”

  “Fun isn’t going to save her.”

  “It’ll make the remainder of my life worth living,” I muttered.

  Micah shook his head. “Rylan, you need to calm. Sera had a good time today. It’s something she needs.”

  “The head priest won’t meet with us until three days later,” Rylan said.

  He shouldn’t frown this much because it ruined his elegant look. I much preferred him smiling.

  “That’s more time wasted.” Rylan could order his subjects around, but with the fear of the famine, the religious community had gained a fair share of power, and it would look bad on the Everbornes, politically, if we offended the Sect of the Holy Pair, even if they were impressed I could talk to Aereala.

  I sniffed. “That’s it.” I took Rylan’s hand, then Micah’s, and forced them to shake. “Make it up, you two. We’re not going to fight over this, and I’m not going to sit here and watch the both of you squabble, either. I’m all right with missing the appointment. I have a feeling that the most we could have done was probably get another two extra seconds in the spiritual realm and that’d be that. So, shake hands. We continue with our research tomorrow morning. I’m exhausted.”

  “You’re drunk,” Rylan said. He’d noticed my flushed cheeks.

  Kael smirked. He almost seemed proud. “Two cups of Morning Mist did her in.”

  “That’s barely even alcohol,” Micah said, chuckling.

  I waited for the both of them to shake hands and apologize to each other for being nitwits, but they didn’t connect.

  Rylan didn’t share my sentiments. His arm darted out, latched onto Micah’s neck, and he threw Micah down the hallway. Micah smashed into another pillar. We were going to run out of pillars at this rate.

  Micah snarled. His white wings lengthened, their tips forming sharp edges. He cracked his knuckles and his pupils flashed a dragon yellow. I knew this fight was going to be only jostling around because their weapons were still tucked inside their scabbards.

  “Are we playing now?” Kael asked tapping his fingers over the hilt of his blades.

  “Stay out of this, Kael,” Rylan replied.

  I pulled Rylan’s braid and shoved a finger at his chest. “You stay out of this, too. I hate to see the people I love fighting over something as stupid as my schedule.”

  Rylan gave me a flat look. I pinched him by his ear. The dragon princes were still bestial by nature. Sometimes a little bit of violence was necessary to calm them down. I brought his ear to my lips and whispered, “Don’t make me use glacilis.” Glacilis provoto was an ice spell I’d learned and had gotten pretty good at over the last year.

  After learning some battle spells, I’d realized I could hold my own against most hidraes, as long as I had soul magic with me. I wasn’t sure about the princes, since they were skilled with the art as well, but I figured I never needed to test that out. The five of us would always be on the same team.

  Rylan gritted his jaw. He leveled a calculative glance at me as he thought over how to react. I didn’t think he was afraid of me, but he knew I hated pointless fighting and didn’t want to piss me off further. Micah rubbed his back, which had landed against the pillar. His shoulders had stiffened and talons lengthened. One wrong move on Rylan’s part, and Micah would pounce.

  “Go cool off, the both of you,” I said, adding as much of my new queen personality into my voice. I really needed her if I was t
rying to maintain a relationship between three hidrae princes and one king.

  “Fine,” Micah said, carrying a hard edge in his tone and folding his wings into his back.

  Rylan clutched my wrist and drew his upper lip up in a snarl. “Meet me in my room in five minutes.”

  They both stalked off and left, leaving me with Kael and a massive heap of confusion.

  “Do you think they’re going to be okay?” I asked him, hating the way Micah and Rylan fought. They were supposed to have made up.

  Kael merely shrugged, smiled, and then chuckled to himself as if he’d just finished watching a comedy play. He brought my hand to his lip and planted a kiss there. “I’ll leave you to calm Rylan down.”

  “Nobody’s going to tame that anger. He’s simmering, ready to erupt at any moment.”

  “And that’s why he needs you. You always manage it.”

  I turned back to look at the empty space Micah and Rylan had left behind. There was rubble everywhere, marring the sheen of the pristine floors.

  Chapter Four

  Was Rylan going to yell at me? Scold me? Or did he just need me so that he could get some shut-eye?

  I had showered to remove the clumps of ash stuck to my hair—some of the ash the plants had turned to disintegrated, littering the landscape with its remains. It made the air even drier and more humid. Worse still, Constanria always smelled like a fire had just happened.

  I toweled my hair dry and folded my gloves next to my sink. The servants would have them cleaned and changed for tomorrow. I bit my tongue and calmed my nerves as I stepped to Rylan’s room. Ignoring the flutters in my belly, I pulled the door of Rylan’s room open.

  “Rylan?” I called.

  “Come in,” he replied.

  I crinkled my brow and walked through the entrance. Should I have toweled my hair more? Perhaps I’d left it too damp. I tested my locks by cupping them in my hands, then figured that Rylan wouldn’t care, so why should I?

  Rylan was on his bed again, once more looking through the letters, complaints, and pleas from the officials. He fought harder than draeroses in winter ruling and attempting to save this country. Previously, he’d wanted to please his father. But since he’d grown so much the past year, he no longer had to live with the shroud of Gisiroth hanging over him. He’d always let what his father thought about him hold him back.

  His slender features had become harder, more stern, and I wasn’t sure if I’d preferred him like this. Sometimes he reminded me too much of myself, especially the past Sera, who had been too concerned about proving herself and being great. But perhaps I fought harder now because there was actually something better worth fighting for—them.

  In short, we’re both just workaholics, I thought dryly.

  “You’re going to hurt your eyes reading in the dark like that,” I said, relighting the candles he kept at his bedside. His drapes were drawn so the blue glow of the moonlight seeped through. Rylan’s room had enough papers to rival that of the Council of Intelligence.

  Rylan set his readings aside the moment his gaze met mine. He gathered his scrolls into a neat stack while keeping them organized and placed them at the side of his bed. “I’m a hidrae. Our vision doesn’t deteriorate.”

  “Actually, it does,” I said. “I’ve seen reports of hidraes going blind.”

  A gentle smile curved up cheek. “Not because of reading in the dark.”

  “You never know.”

  “Stop being silly and come here.” He gestured for me to lay down on his bed, and it made me a little more nervous. I crawled up onto the sheets, and he immediately wrapped his fingers around my arm and tugged me closer so that our skins came close and his leathery, smoky scent feathered past me.

  “Anatolia had another vision today,” he said, tracing a line of heat down my shoulder. Our legs overlapped each other, and he drew the blanket over our frames. It was woolly, soft, and fluffy. The comforts of the palace always amazed me, but what sent me reeling the most was how much these four dragon princes loved me. The side of my head leaned on his arm, and he clutched me around my torso. “That’s why I was so worried.”

  The hum between us due to the magic that I never really got Aereala to explain, seeped through my bones, making my limbs weaken. “Really? What was it?”

  A soft frown marred his features. “She said she saw Father, and he knew a way to save you, but I’m not sure. She looked like she was having a vision because she was foaming at the mouth and her eyes were turned into the back of her head. But Father’s dead.”

  “Anatolia’s visions often make little sense,” I said. I kneaded circles into the area beneath Rylan’s elbow. I knew he liked that. Then I moved my hand down, resting it on his abdomen. “Don’t worry about it.”

  “I can’t. We can’t lose you. And Father has an answer? Is this the path that we must chase? Finding a dead man? It’s all so confusing.” He placed his face close to mine, teasing me by lingering his mouth just above my lips and not letting me taste him.

  I dragged him down so our bodies melded with each other, when the clicking of the door interrupted us. I sat up and there was Micah, standing at the doorway with a scroll in his hand. His unmoving gaze lingered over us as he stepped into the room. His boots made a clicking sound against the marble floor.

  “I wondered if you were awake,” Micah said, meeting us with his shockingly blue eyes, a beautiful contrast to his crimson hair. “I thought I’d give you this before your meeting with the elders tomorrow.” He showed us the scroll in his hand, before setting it aside on the table. He cleared his throat. “I’ll leave the two of you to it, then.”

  The seconds passed by more slowly as Micah padded toward the exit. Rylan’s brow furrowed. Then he stopped his brother, calling out, “Wait, Micah.”

  Micah paused. Slowly, he tipped his torso toward us, and he tilted his head in question.

  Rylan sighed. “I’m sorry, about what happened today . . . about Sera.”

  Micah nodded. “I accept your apology.” He took a step closer to us. Uncertainty crossed his face. “If that’s all, then.”

  “The bed’s big enough for three,” I blurted.

  Both of them looked at me in tandem.

  A half-smile graced Micah’s features. His expression lit a little. “And what do you think will happen, with the both of us cuddled closely to you on the bed?”

  “We’ll have a nice, warm sleep?” I asked.

  Rylan chuckled and brushed my hair aside. “Do you really think that, Sera-kit?”

  “Mmmm . . . no?” I waited for rejection . . . for Rylan and Micah to say that what I implied was absolutely impossible. There had been instances where the brothers had shared. Kael and Gaius. Maybe the twins. But Micah always preferred to have me alone. He liked to have me slowly, sending pleasure through every inch of my body while taking an agonizingly long time. Although the relationship between Rylan and Micah had been stitched together, it never fully mended, and I had doubts this was possible. Micah had been the bastard child and Rylan the crown prince for too long.

  I couldn’t even stand to stay in the same room with Bianca for too long, and now, my silly, blabbermouthed self was asking this of them.

  Micah didn’t leave and shut the door behind him. Instead, he chose to walk to the bed. I held a bated breath as I tried to gauge Rylan’s reaction. Rylan kissed my neck, and his hand moved under my nightgown to cup the curve of my pelvis. “We still haven’t finished off from yesterday,” he said as he ran his tongue across his top row of teeth. The moonlight glinted off one of his canines.

  I swallowed nervously, getting lost in my own headspace. I felt the bed sinking and knew Micah had climbed on. An animalistic rumble tore from his lips when he pulled me from Rylan and sucked in a deep breath by my collarbone, as if wanting to surround his senses with me. “New perfume?” Micah asked.

  Rylan nipped my exposed shoulder, forcing the warm humming into a spark each time his teeth grazed my skin. His hand explored my bo
dy. It traveled down until it met my center and I opened for him, welcoming his touch. I clutched his sculpted form and was shadowed by Micah’s equally as rigid one, losing myself and having my mouth slightly agape as Rylan built a tight knot in my lower belly, already creeping its way up to the snapping sensation of release.

  Micah’s fingers pulled the sleeve of my nightgown down. It was a loose outfit, slipping easily off my body. He exposed the top of my right breast. Eagerly, he jerked more of my nightgown off my frame and latched onto a nub, flicking a tongue out and making my toes curl.

  I bucked my hips against Rylan’s hand, and a moan freed from my lungs. “You’re already wet,” Rylan whispered against my shoulder. He sat upright so he could see me. The hazy expression he gave me nearly made me explode despite trying my best to hold back. It showed his need, his want for me.

  He was so dreamy with his eyelashes drooping over the gorgeous blue of his eyes. So beautiful, I thought, suddenly feeling my chest tighten, which made breathing difficult.

  Rylan slipped his fingers from my center and brought them to his lips. He drew his digits into his mouth, sucked and groaned, then smiled at me. “Sweet,” he said, before dropping his hand from his face. A chuckle shook from him. He likely laughed at the wide-eyed expression on my face. I couldn’t fathom how Rylan could have looked so good while doing that.

  Micah tipped my head toward him, pulling my gaze away from Rylan so that I focused on his instead. He tugged my hair, sending a light ache through my scalp. I reached for the bulge on his pants, already hard and straining against the fabric. He hissed as I pressed my palm against it, and he drew my mouth against his before pushing his tongue into me. He was more forceful than usual. Quicker. More aggressive. And he rocked his hips into my hand.

  I was so distracted by Micah that I’d forgotten Rylan. He’d positioned himself between my thighs, pressing his member on my core. The scent of sex permeated the air now, giddiness making my head swirl. My undergarment was an oppressive layer, stopping him from entering me.