by Zoey Ellis
When she was awake, she was quiet, staring into space most of the time, deep in thought about the memory that had been hidden from her. She didn’t speak much, and barely even looked at Zendyor when he spoke to her. Mostly she wanted to be curled up in bed, close to him, and he willingly indulged her in that.
That evening he ordered all of the servants to cease their duties so they could spend time with her doing the activities he knew she enjoyed, but she refused. The kernel of anxiety niggling in his chest sprouted into full-blown concern. He hadn’t ever seen Elora behave this way before, and refusing spending time with the servants was completely out of character.
She was clearly grieving for her lost family, and it was unsettling for him to watch. Since the first day he’d found out about her he had been suspicious, convinced she was lying and trying to fool him, when all along she was exactly what she said she was. When he was in her mind, there had been no deception, no falsehoods, no stray or fraudulent thoughts. The love and concern she had for her faction was powerful, and they were a great loss to her.
Zendyor cursed himself for allowing his own experiences with trespassers and rule breakers, and even Nyro, to prejudice his approach to Elora, even when the evidence was right in front of him. This woman found reason to smile all the time, to experience joy and to bring joy to everyone around her. That was her true personality—the shining light of who she was and how she expressed herself to the world. He’d watched her with the servants—it would be impossible for someone to pretend for so many months. He should have seen it sooner.
That night when she reached for him, it was as fiery and as passionate between them as it had always been—as if nothing had changed. She opened for him, she dripped for him, she sought his neck, his tongue, and she climaxed with abandon. Everything was as it should be between an alpha and his omega. But he knew it was more than that between them.
He couldn’t deny that she was his. He’d known it deep down from the moment he didn’t want to leave for his clan duties, because he wanted to be with her. It wasn’t something he’d ever experienced and he should have accepted the facts sooner, but his prejudice ran deep. Even so, he never expected her to be holding such secrets. With the true facts coming to light, he needed to make sure it was dealt with without any further harm to her or to them as a couple—and he had to tell his brothers.
“Ensure that she remains in this room,” he said to Marahl as he prepared to leave. Elora lay sated and exhausted in his bed, full of his seed. She probably wouldn’t want to go anywhere, but he was taking no more chances.
Marahl blinked. “So I should lock her in here and not let her out?”
“Was there something unclear about what I said,” he thundered.
“Of course not, my lord,” Marahl said. “I will keep her in here until you return.”
She glanced at Elora. “It is not my place to say anything,” she began hesitantly, “but is she all right?”
“She will be,” Zendyor said, putting on his robe. “She’s suffering right now, but she’ll recover.”
“That’s a relief, my lord,” Marahl said, the relief laden in her tone. “She has added much to the lair and the lives of the staff.” She stalled for a moment, peering around him to glance at his sleeping mate. “Perhaps you could think about giving her a role now? She’s been here for so long now and it really will make her feel—”
“No,” Zendyor said firmly. “That is no longer appropriate, Marahl. I’ll explain when I return.” He glanced back to the bed. “Give her everything she asks for. She is allowed visitors.”
“Yes, my lord.” She fidgeted with her robe. “My lord, before you go, there is something else you must know.”
“This better be good, brother,” Nyro said with a yawn, as the brother gathered in the temple. “I left my soft and willing pregnant omega in bed.”
“Of course it’s fucking urgent,” Zendyor bellowed, his anger suddenly surging. “None of us want to be here—I wouldn’t have called you all here for fun.”
Over the last few months, things had become significantly more hectic. Their time for surveillance and investigation was coming to an end—they’d soon be instigating an outright war with either the king or queen… or both. Zendyor had been urging his brothers to attack for a long time, but since Elora arrived at his lair, he’d been less enthusiastic to enter battle without a more secure plan. Thankfully, they were in the process of making one.
“All right, Zendyor,” Tyomar said, soothingly. “Nyro knows you wouldn’t do that.” Tyomar had his own omega to attend to now—no doubt he was also hoping to get this over with as quickly as possible.
Sethorn scratched his chin and yawned. “It’s too late in the night for pointless arguments.”
They all took their seats as Khyros entered. He sat in his seat at the head of the table, clearly tired himself. “Zendyor, why have you summoned us?”
Zendyor got straight to the point. “I have found my mate.”
Surprise hit the faces of all the brothers.
“You never said anything about any new woman?” Tyomar said.
“She has been in my lair for months.”
“All right,” Khyros said, gruffly. “Tell us how you know?”
Zendyor looked at Nyro. “Firstly, it is Elora.”
Nyro leaned forward, disbelief blooming on his face and then he laughed. “Of course. You were after her for months.”
“That wasn’t why I wanted her back,” Zendyor said.
“I’mya is going to love this.” Nyro chuckled.
Zendyor ignored him, clenching his fists as he spoke. “When she passed through my range, I thought there was a security breach. Yorgynel didn’t signal me or attack her or do anything to prevent her crossing. Now I realize Nel was tracking her. I believe he was trying to either protect her, or seize her and bring her to my lair, but she stayed out of any open plains for him to do so. It was when she was about to leave my territory that he got frustrated and signaled to me. I thought she had evaded him and my trackers, but it seems she and Nel have developed a connection. My steward told me she’s been cleaning his den.”
“And he let her?” Tyomar asked in disbelief.
“Yes.” Zendyor leaned down beside his chair and lifted the lump of gold next to his chair, which could have only been made by dragorai fire. “This was found in her room.”
The other brother stared at it with varying degrees of surprise.
“He is certainly attached to her if he is giving her gifts,” Tyomar said.
Dragons did not share their treasure, and in the rare instances that they did, it was to court or comfort their mates.
“Is this the only sign?” Sethorn asked.
“No. When she finally was returned to me, I questioned her about why she crossed my range and how she managed to cross without protection. She was unable to tell me. Of course I was suspicious. Then, one of my stewards noticed that she had an aversion to the Goddesses.”
“That doesn’t sound good,” Sethorn said, frowning. “Anyone with an aversion to the Goddesses should not be near us.”
“I know,” Zendyor said. “I tried to dig deep into what it was, but when I pressed her, it became clear she was just scared of them. I didn’t push further because I was… distracted, both by her and by everything happening within our clan.”
“I’m sure you’ve still been fucking her though,” Nyro muttered.
Zendyor slammed his fist on the table as he stood up, a loud boom cracking across the room. “Why don’t you fucking shut up and let me finish speaking?” he bellowed. “Not everything is about you, Nyro. This is my mate we are discussing. You seem to be forgetting your own transgressions when it came to your mate and what happened to us all because of it! This is not a fucking jest.”
No one spoke, and in the silence Nyro sobered.
“I apologize, brother,” he said, dipping his head as a sign of respect. “Continue.”
Zendyor sat back on his chair, forci
ng the tension in his veins to calm. “Being with her is….” He glanced at Nyro and Tyomar, the two mated brothers. “I’m sure the two of you will understand. It is a superior experience. There were also other signs, but I overlooked them because I thought her a criminal and a liar.”
Nyro frowned. “I told you she was a good person. She was well liked in my lair.”
“And you expect me to take you at your word on that?”
Nyro’s expression soured. “I am no liar, brother.”
“Not about important things, no,” Zendyor said. “Is she important to you?”
Nyro’s jaw clenched. “I’mya told you that Elora was her good friend. You have no need to mistrust her.”
“She did. But neither of you told me that she was in your lair as a fucking kon’aya!”
Sethorn whistled while Tyomar closed his eyes, lifted his head to the ceiling and exhaled.
“Nothing happened between us,” Nyro insisted. “I never even met her before—”
“I know,” Zendyor interrupted. “I believe that. I’m just pointing out how my experience of your behavior over the centuries has contributed to my distrust of my mate.”
Nyro said nothing to that, but he slumped back in his chair.
“What were the other signs?” Tyomar asked.
Zendyor leaned forward, bracing his elbows on the table. “She is capable of calming me when I am angered.”
At that, Nyro lifted his head, his brows raised.
“I thought it was just because I was so keen on her scent—it is incredible—but it’s more than that. She has repeatedly been able to prevent me from tipping over into my rage. And you all know I am proud of that rage—I don’t hold it back, but I enjoy when she calms me.”
“That is indeed impressive,” Sethorn agreed.
Zendyor nodded. “But none of that is the reason why I called this meeting.” He took a breath. “A Goddess appeared to her.”
A shocked silence fell over the room. Khyros rose from his seat, astonishment contorting his face. “What did you say?”
“Before Elora came to your lair,” he said gesturing to Nyro, “a Goddess appeared to her in the Seven Kingdoms and offered to help awake Elora’s true power, but it was conditional. Elora had to leave her faction. When she didn’t… she awoke to find them all dead.”
Sethorn cursed under his breath. “That sounds like some of the Goddesses indeed.”
“What power is she talking about?” Khyros said.
“I suspect it is a power that she would possess as a female dragorai.”
“Female dragorais do not have any specific powers,” Tyomar said slowly. “They are like us, they know the language and learn the incantations that would allow them to wield it. How would she have any more power than that, especially if she doesn’t have a dan askha?”
“I don’t know,” Zendyor said.
“Why didn’t she accept the power?” Sethorn asked.
“She didn’t want to leave her faction.”
Sethorn frowned. “A Goddess appeared to her offering her untold power and she refused… for her faction?”
“Her faction was her family,” Zendyor said.
“So?” Sethorn shook his head. “I will never understand lesser-mortals and their need to disobey and disrespect higher-mortals and our creators. Many would kill a thousand times over to get the opportunity offered to her. Does she realize the Seven haven’t appeared to anyone in centuries?”
An incandescent fury burst in Zendyor’s chest, and he held onto his control, forcing himself to hold it at bay. If Elora was going to be part of his clan as his mate, his brothers needed to understand. He went for a different tactic; one that suited his strategic brother. “Would you leave us if it were you?”
Sethorn met his gaze. “That is different.”
“Why? They’re our creators. Would you leave us without explanation while we are in danger?”
Sethorn tensed further. “Our connection with them is different. They have ignored us for centuries and left us to this peril.”
“That was Elora’s argument too,” Zendyor said. “She asked the Goddess why they had refused to help her faction, instead of asking her to leave them.”
Another short silence swept across the table, almost as if his brothers weren’t sure if they wanted to know the response.
“The Goddess said their absence protects their legacy,” Zendyor said.
Khryos strode away from the table cursing under his breath, Tyomar fell into quiet reflection, and Sethorn slump back in his chair. Nyro, of course, spoke up.
“Can she still accept it?” Nyro asked. “The power?”
“Yes. She has to say the Goddess’ name in order to obtain it.”
“Which Goddess is it?”
“The golden one.” Zendyor didn’t say her name. While their names were extremely difficult to say, speaking a Goddess’ name aloud was known to draw their attention, and in this instance, that wasn’t something anyone wanted. The Seven’s lack of care toward the dragorai and complete neglect of their clan was a bigger issue than the North versus South war. It had to be addressed at the right time, if at all. It had to be an enormous insult to Khyros that one had appeared to Elora, while ignoring him, the leader of the clan.
“So your mate,” Tyomar said. “She still doesn’t want to say it.”
“She is traumatized and only just remembered the conversation with the Goddess. She blames herself for their deaths.”
“The Goddess blocked her memory so she would seek refuge in a dragorai lair, didn’t she?” Khyros fumed. “We are all being manipulated by the Goddesses.”
“But they had to be involved somehow,” Tyomar reasoned. “There are no more female dragorai’s or female dragons—if we were ever going to survive, the Goddesses would have had to step in at some point, we knew this.”
“This feels different,” Khyros said.
“Why?” Nyro asked.
“It feels more manipulative,” Khyros said.
Zendyor glanced at Tyomar, who was already looking back at him. Khyros had never been so visibly agitated at a meeting before—typically, he barely even spoke.
“We need to know what power the Goddesses have for her,” Khyros said.
“Do we?” Sethorn asked. “I know she is your mate,” he then said to Zendyor, “but what if her power is dangerous? What if she is being put among us by the Goddesses to cause trouble or harm us?”
“Is that likely?” Nyro asked.
“No,” Tyomar said, shooting an annoyed look at Sethorn. “The Goddesses have never harmed us directly.”
“They wouldn’t be harming us directly,” Sethorn pointed out.
Zendyor steeled himself. “This is my mate you are talking about, Sethorn,” he warned. “I just explained I have been suspicious of her for months at the detriment of our relationship. I won’t allow any further distrust to be placed on her.”
“We don’t know what kind of power she will have or if she’ll be in control of it,” Sethorn argued. “It may not be her fault but—”
“No!” Zendyor bellowed, his voice booming across the room.
Everyone fell silent.
“No,” Zendyor repeated. “You either take me at my word that she must be trusted or I do not belong in this clan.”
All of the brothers looked shocked except for Tyomar. “It isn’t your fault, Zen,” he said gravely. “You weren’t to know.”
“That doesn’t change anything for her,” Zendyor said.
“It might. You have to try,” Nyro said. He met Zendyor’s gaze. “You know we take your word very seriously. We are with you.”
Sethorn nodded. “I apologize, brother.”
Khyros and Tyomar also nodded in agreement.
“All right,” Tyomar said. “If she is not willing to come into her power just yet it will give us time to think about what we can do to make sure she is safe when she does. But she will need to,” he added looking at Zendyor.
“I k
now,” Zendyor said. Elora would need to accept his claiming bite and survive the process of becoming his mate, and in order for them to reproduce, she would need to go into her heat. “I believe the Goddesses have been suppressing her heat and that she will need to accept her power before she’ll be able to breed.”
“We need to know exactly what the Goddesses said,” Khyros said. “We know they speak in riddles, and we all need to know exactly what words were used and how things were referred to.” He looked at Zendyor. “We need it word for word with the exact dialect.”
“I can do that,” Zendyor said.
Khryos returned to the table. “All right, let’s start,” he said.
They spent almost the whole day analyzing the Goddess’s words, but some of it was just too out of context for them to even guess the meaning.
“‘I did not choose you, I am only assisting the one who did,’” Tyomar recited the Goddess’ words. “Who does she mean?”
“It has to be Zendyor,” Sethorn said.
“No,” Nyro said, glancing at Zendyor. “No offense to you, brother, but my lair chose her.”
Zendyor forced himself not to tense and he nodded curtly; he couldn’t deny the facts.
“So the Goddess would be assisting you by Elora getting her power?” Tyomar asked Nyro skeptically.
Nyro made a face. “It is unlikely,” he admitted. “But of everyone who specifically chose Elora at that time? What is she referring to?”
They went around in circles until Zendyor was too frustrated to continue. He rose from his seat about to tell them they needed to stop for the day because he needed to get back to Elora, when the defensive magic of his wards snapped, the sound resounding like a silent echo through his mind.
His brothers all stood up abruptly. “Did you feel that?” Sethorn asked. “All of you?”
Khyros frowned. “How can all of our protective wards snap at the same time?”
“I don’t know,” Nyro growled. “Probably to confuse us, but I must check on I’mya.”
Tyomar echoed his growl. “Yes, I need to check on Oshali.”
