by Haley Ryan
Oh no. He wasn’t alone at all—he’d been cornered by my brothers. It was just Ryker and Declan, and so far, they seemed to be abiding by my request for them to play nice. No one was snarling, and everyone’s limbs appeared to be attached. Still, I hurried a bit as I made my way over to their corner.
I was just passing by the ornamental fountain in the center of the foyer when my elbow brushed against the arm of another dragon.
I didn’t think much of it—the room was crowded, and it had literally been just the tiniest point of contact. But before I made it even two steps farther, I was surprised to hear a splash from behind me.
Everyone in the room turned to look.
The middle-aged man from the council table was glaring at me from the center of the fountain while water dripped from his hair, face, and completely drenched clothing.
To my credit, I swear I didn’t laugh. But there was no way his predicament could have anything to do with me, so I swiveled around and headed for the corner again.
“Kirasha-li-Tairen!” Somehow, the man in the fountain managed to snarl my name, in a guttural voice that sounded far more like it could have come from the throat of a dragon than a human. The words tore their way into the sudden silence, almost as if they would have torn me to pieces if they could.
After that, everything seemed to slow.
I was puzzled, but not yet afraid. After all, I’d done nothing wrong. As I began to turn back, I caught sight of my brothers’ faces and momentarily registered their panic, but it was too late to stop myself. I finished the turn and took in the strange sight of the open floor, a pathway straight as an arrow from me to the fountain, lined on either side by transfixed faces.
“Of all the disgusting, juvenile things to do,” the dripping wet councilor said coldly. “As Granver said, you do truly display an appalling lack of dignity or respect for those around you. I can say without hesitation that I cannot imagine a greater catastrophe for our people than the idea of a young woman of your character and influence ever being in a position to guide or protect our future.”
I heard shocked gasps, but I was still processing his train of logic. It seemed he was implying that I’d knocked him into the fountain, which was absurd if you considered that he had ten inches and at least a hundred pounds on me. But worse, he was acting like I’d done it on purpose and was therefore the next best thing to a dangerous criminal.
“I didn’t…”
“But I will not stand by like a coward and pretend,” he said softly, still sounding as though he was being completely serious about his ridiculous accusations. “The others may fawn over you in an attempt to gain favor, but the truth is, you are a sneaking, grasping upstart, who probably has no relation to our queen whatsoever. You are nothing but a vain and desperate attempt by your family to retain power, and I will not stand by and allow you to get away with it, no matter what I am required to sacrifice.” He drew himself up and squared his shoulders like a man facing a firing squad. “Therefore, I, Weldon-ro-Evret, challenge you according to the ways and laws of dragonkind—to uphold your honor and your position by way of single combat in the royal arena.”
Hold on. What had he just said?
Talk about a snit fit.
It felt like I’d fallen into a bad Regency novel, where people went around challenging each other to duels over silly things like imagined slights to their honor—or inadvertent falls into fountains.
The whole scene was so ridiculous, I had to fight back a totally inappropriate fit of laughter, though it did gradually dawn on me that no one else was even slightly amused. They all appeared to be taking the whole matter quite seriously, which made no sense at all.
Obviously, I needed to adjust their perspective.
“Look, I’m sorry for your drowned ego, but I barely touched you. Don’t blame me if you decided to go for a swim.”
His face turned an interesting shade of puce. “Are you declining my challenge?”
Um, yes?
“I don’t…”
My brothers appeared beside me so fast they had to have sprinted, both of them giving off an aura of icy rage I didn’t need to be an empath to feel.
“Kira, stop,” Declan said, so quietly, I doubted anyone else could have heard him.
“What exactly is happening?” I muttered, shooting him an accusing look from the corner of my eye.
“I’m going to kill him,” Ryker said, and though his voice was soft, it was obvious his words weren’t the usual empty threat. They were a promise—a vision of the future that would come true.
“Wait, is this the formal challenge you thought no one would be crazy enough to issue?” I asked Declan out of the corner of my mouth.
He hesitated, and then nodded. “Yes. I’m afraid it is.”
“So what does that mean?”
He and Ryker exchanged glances over the top of my head, their expressions so grim, all temptation to laugh suddenly deserted me.
“It means,” Declan said, “that you accept.” He looked as though the words gutted him.
“Wait, but I had nothing to do with him falling in the fountain.”
“Accept,” Ryker said, his tone falling just short of a snarl.
I must have cringed a little because he looked down at me and shook his head. “Kira, I’m not angry at you.”
Still feeling utterly clueless, I glared at the guy who had finally clambered out of the water.
“You’re an ass, you know that? I had nothing to do with your little mishap, and I’m pretty sure everyone here knows it. But fine. Whatever. If you think it’ll be fun to pick on someone half your size, that’s a personal problem you should probably take up with your therapist.”
“What is your answer?” He looked… eager. Too eager.
“I accept your stupid challenge,” I snapped.
The room erupted.
Each of my brothers took an arm and steered me inexorably from the building.
We were outside and halfway to the parking lot before Ryker stopped and swore under his breath. “We need the fae,” he said.
Declan thought about it for a second before he agreed. “Yes. It’s probably fortunate he’s here.”
I looked back and forth from one to the other, but they weren’t giving me much to go on.
Ryker peeled off and returned to the Great Hall, while Declan urged me towards a large black SUV. We were already in by the time Ryker returned, this time accompanied by Draven, who raised his eyebrows at me as if to ask, “Are these guys crazy?”
Honestly, I wasn’t sure I knew the answer to that anymore.
“My place,” Ryker said.
No one spoke as Declan drove us halfway around the enclave, through several roundabouts and out towards the edge of the property. He pulled up in front of a large stone house—a sprawling ranch-style home with three chimneys and enormous windows.
Once we were inside, Ryker led us to the great room—which featured soaring ceilings, a river rock fireplace, and a dark leather sectional—where he threw off his jacket and began to swear as inventively as I’d ever heard.
I sat.
After we exchanged one glance that clearly indicated our shared confusion, Draven took up a position in one corner of the room, obviously not entirely comfortable being trapped inside with my enraged brothers. Not that I could blame him.
“So…” I finally wedged a single word into the middle of Ryker’s diatribe. “Who wants to be first to explain what just happened?”
I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen Declan angry, but he was now. “I would have sworn this wasn’t possible,” he said. “That no one would risk it, especially not now. What can he possibly hope to accomplish?”
“He has to be acting for someone else.” Ryker stopped pacing, folded his arms, and closed his eyes. “Someone who stands to gain from discrediting Kira. But who?”
“It makes sense to suspect Skye,” Declan said, a little hesitantly.
“No.” Ryker shot that down in an awfu
l hurry. “She knows they would be unlikely to accept her as heir. Unless there’s something you haven’t told me, brother.”
Declan shook his head. “You know I never read below the surface if I can help it, but I would have told you if I’d sensed anything.”
My middle brother’s tension seemed to ease just the tiniest bit.
“Excuse me?” I spoke louder this time. “Tell me what’s going on! What did I just agree to?”
Declan faced me fully, looking as though he was about to admit to murdering a whole litter of puppies. “You were issued an official challenge,” he said quietly. “I assured you it would never happen, but I was wrong, and I cannot tell you how much I regret it.”
“Yes, but what does that mean? Do I just have to go three rounds with this guy until he’s satisfied that he’s knocked the disrespect out of me?”
Ryker shook his head. “No. This challenge is a simple win or lose. The only thing he can’t do is kill you.”
Every drop of blood in my body headed for my toes.
“Hold on… You mean that self-important jackass just got official permission to beat the crap out of me without consequences? And you made me accept?”
“We didn’t have a choice,” Ryker growled as I shot to my feet.
“Well you’d better start explaining then, because right now I’m starting to wonder why you’ve bothered protecting me this far. You just threw me under a giant, dragon-shaped bus!”
“As the heir, if you refuse an official challenge, it’s an admission of cowardice,” Declan said. “You would immediately lose your position and be banned from the enclave for one year.”
“Barbaric much?” I snapped. “What is wrong with you?”
“We’re dragons, Kira,” Ryker said fiercely. “Not humans, and you must never forget that! We have our own laws, our own traditions. Maybe some of them will seem cruel or disgusting to you, but you don’t get to assume that human ways are better just because you’re comfortable with them.”
I sat back down, because he had a point. I didn’t know enough about dragons to judge.
“Dragons represent an enormously destructive force,” Ryker continued. “We can be a violent people, and the last thing we can afford is for our disagreements to spill over into human communities. That means we require strong leadership. Someone who can establish boundaries and hold them firm. We cannot allow any dragon to gain power without the ability and the will to guard those boundaries, or let our leadership fall to someone too much of a coward to face the realities and the consequences of allowing violence to run unchecked.”
“I get your point,” I admitted, “but the system seems too easy to abuse. If you want to get rid of a leader you don’t like, all you have to do is challenge them. How is that a good idea?”
“Because you have to accept the consequences of choosing a challenge over working it out peacefully,” Ryker explained, his fingers flexing impatiently. “In most cases, if the challenger loses, he or she suffers banishment and loss of status as well.”
So they just had to be pretty sure they would win. Seemed to me like a system designed to create bullies.
“Doesn’t this just allow the stronger dragons to go around picking on the weaker ones?”
“No. Official challenges are meant to address serious wrongs, so each dragon is allowed only one unquestioned challenge in their lifetime. That one is meant to allow for the removal of corrupt leadership. All others must be brought before the council and judged to have sufficient reason before they are allowed to proceed. In general, an actual crime must have been committed, and restitution must be in the interest of the community.”
I was still trying to wrap my head around my own situation. “But it still seems like an awfully easy way to get rid of an heir you don’t like.”
“But that’s when the risk becomes greater,” Declan explained. “Which is why I believed no one would challenge you.”
“So what does Captain Flopmeister stand to lose?”
“If he loses the fight,” Declan said, “the queen gets to kill him.”
“Oh, for the love of Idria,” I exclaimed, rolling my eyes. “This is ridiculous, and I still don’t understand why I needed to accept! So I get kicked out of the enclave for a year. So I’m not the heir anymore. You haven’t had an heir for eleven years, so how is it better to give Weldon a chance to tear my arms off?”
Honestly, the more they explained, the more devastated I felt. Why would they demand I go through with this?
“Because of him.” Ryker lifted one hand and pointed directly at Draven.
“Hey, don’t you dare bring him into this—”
But Draven interrupted.
“No, I think he’s right.”
I collapsed back into the couch cushions, feeling decidedly battered. How could Draven be agreeing with them?
“If you had declined,” he explained, “you would have been stripped of all protection. You would go back to the bookstore and back to your life. But now, the Idrian community is very much aware of your status and the opportunity it represents—a way to hurt the dragons if they can get their hands on you.”
“How?”
Draven nodded towards my brothers. “It’s obvious how deeply they care about you. How do you think they would respond if someone was holding you hostage? What do you think your mother would give up if it meant saving your life?”
Okay, that sort of made sense.
“And furthermore, your loss of status would mean that you would no longer have diplomatic immunity to my father’s summons,” Draven said softly. “He could take the matter to the Shapeshifter Court and compel your appearance before him. And what do you think are the chances that Llyr told no one of your existence before he died?”
Crap.
Crappity crap crap.
He was right.
And I was totally screwed.
Ten
“So, that’s it?” I demanded, once I’d recovered from my shock and found my voice again. “I get to play punching bag for this guy, and then I get kicked out?”
“No.” Draven wasn’t hanging back in the corner any longer. He strode towards me, a grim light in his eye and a set to his jaw that I knew all too well. “You fight.”
I couldn’t help laughing, but it was more crazed laugher than actual amusement. “Draven, you’ve seen me. You’ve all see me. How could I possibly fight a real dragon?”
“You are as real a dragon as any of these others,” Draven said, and I could have hugged him for it, except, well, brothers. Then he dropped to one knee in front of me so he could look me in the eye. “And you have advantages I don’t think you’ve stopped to consider.”
“You’re right,” I mumbled, trying to ignore how my heart pounded at his nearness. “I haven’t.”
Declan sat next to me. “Not to be rude, but what does a fae know of dragon advantages?”
“Nothing,” Ryker said dismissively, from his position near the fireplace. “I didn’t invite you here to give martial advice, Lord Elduvar. I asked you because we need to understand what the fae might want, and how far we can expect them to go to get their hands on her.”
“Why focus on your strategy for after she loses? Do you have so little faith in her? You’re giving up before you’ve even started, when the reality is, she doesn’t have to lose.”
“And I suppose you say this out of your vast and varied knowledge of dragon warfare?” Ryker sneered.
Draven stood, a silver light beginning to peek out around the corners of his eyes as he turned and confronted my brother. “Tell me,” he said, in a deceptively calm voice that made me think pretty hard about hiding behind the couch in case of violence. “How many times have you fought for your life?”
Ryker didn’t so much as blink. “Never,” he acknowledged. “But I’ve been fighting other dragons as a part of my job since I was fourteen.”
“And I’ve been defending my right to live since I was eight,” Draven stated flatly, and
for a moment, I forgot my own troubles while my heart ached for that eight-year-old boy. No one should have to fight for their lives at that age. “You don’t fight the same way when you know your opponent isn’t out to kill you. You hold back. You embrace a strategy that values looks over effectiveness. And the moment you face a real opponent, you’ll fail, because they won’t be going for the win, they’ll be going for the kill.”
“This fight won’t be to the death,” Declan pointed out.
“No, but Kira may very well be fighting for her life,” Draven snapped, his eyes fully silver now. “If you teach her to fight like you—for points or takedowns—she doesn’t stand a chance. Her opponent knows those tricks. He’s spent his whole life learning them. What he doesn’t know is how to fight when his life is on the line. That’s what I can teach her. How to survive.”
My brothers exchanged looks again, and I began to wonder whether they were using some form of telepathy, they seemed so capable of communicating without words.
“Why are you offering?” Declan finally asked. “We aren’t exactly allies. Our loss is your court’s gain.”
“What loyalty do you think I have to my court?” Draven’s fists were clenched. “I serve because there are people I can’t protect any other way.”
It was the first time I’d really heard him admit how much he cared about protecting his half-brother, Rath.
“But I’m offering now because Kira’s life is more important to me than any of that.”
So, can I just be honest and confess that I forgot all about challenges, brothers, councils, and what have you for a handful of glorious seconds?
Draven had just sort of admitted that he liked me.
Well, not liked me liked me, though his statement didn’t exactly rule it out. He could have just said, “more important,” but he’d said, “more important to me.” Those words definitely implied that he cared, a lot, and the realization turned my heart into a giant, mushy puddle of warm, gooey hope.
