by Raven Storm
“Don’t tell your beast of a mate. Our progress here is going much quicker due to our discovery. We’ll adapt the same methods in the valley starting tomorrow.”
I put my hands to my mouth, stifling a laugh. Benedict would be furious to see the witches have a full forest and lodgings before the drakens did.
“Perhaps wait until everyone is settled before giving him a tour?”
Vela raised an amused eyebrow. A moderate sized hut was erected in the middle of the makeshift village, enough to probably house five to six witches. I tilted my head to the side at the odd method of construction.
“Ah, I admit we got a bit ambitious. We figured if we could find a manner of building that didn’t involve growing everything from scratch, it would help tremendously.”
I nodded vaguely at Vela, taking in the building in front of me. It was shaped like a dome, and the made entirely out of—
“The island has plenty of lava, so the earth witches helped us experiment. We found a rounded shape worked best, with a small hole at the top for ventilation. The magma is much sturdier than wood, perhaps just as much as stone. This first attempt is not very pretty to look at but it’s solid structure.
The large, unassuming black dome in front of looked stable enough. Astrid gestured grandly, and I stepped inside. Rugs lined the floor, and a fireplace burned in the center. The smoke rose straight up, escaping through the top hole like she had mentioned. Candles lit the inside, giving it a more homely look. There were a few threadbare pillows, and not much else.
“If it weren’t for the hordes, we could pop back and forth and scavenge what we could from the village. Perhaps sometime in the future.”
Astrid looked forlorn around at the bare decoration, then wiped all traces of sadness from her face. She clapped her hands together, and excitedly faced me.
“Ladies, let’s make a queen!”
I hadn’t realized there was so much involved with...well...everything. Astrid had produced a long list of procedure and protocol from Domik, and I reminded myself to give him my thanks later. Between the list and Astrid’s own memories of draken culture, they had a basic idea of what to expect for the ceremony. My head started to ache almost immediately.
“The coronation usually happens on top of the castle turrets, but the highest cliff on the east side will suffice, since there is no castle. Benedict mentioned it would amuse him to force the demon hordes to watch the entire thing if they are still hovering when it happens.”
I nodded dumbly, not really listening.
“Then of course there’s your statement of accord, where you swear your allegiance to the draken people—”
“I’d rather thought risking my life and uniting them against a usurping would have fit the ticket.” I interrupted, running short on patience. I sat up, dislodging the cool leaves an earth witch had put over my eyes to ‘cleanse the puffiness’ from my face. She picked them up, huffing when I refused to put them on again. I couldn’t move, because there was a witch attached to each of my hands and feet, painstakingly painting my nails with dyed berries and tree sap.
“Sit back and shut up. Tradition is important to the drakens.”
I wanted to scream there was no point to tradition when your species was nearly extinct, but somehow, felt that Astrid wouldn’t really care. I laid back against the pillow and closed my eyes. I would at least try to relax.
“You know quite a bit about drakens. Were you around them a lot before the wars?”
Astrid paused her endless litany of rules and historical information. The hole at the top of the hut had gone dark, bearing witness to how long we had been at it.
“Never you mind.” She gave the witches around us a pointed look.
“Time to sleep.”
My mates had promised to have our own hut built by today, so I was looking forward to christening it with all three of them. Astrid raised a finger, tutting when I stood to leave the hut.
“I think not. The queen stays away from her king the night of the coronation.”
I felt my mood decline rapidly. “What about my other two mates? They are not kings,” I argued, my voice taking on a desperate tone. Vela stroked my arm soothingly.
“It is only for one night, and after all, it’s—”
“—tradition,” I finished lamely, looking at the ground.
Sensing the dark turn my thoughts had taken, Astrid clapped her hands. The other witches gave slight bows and left, leaving me only with her and Vela. They gestured to the pallet in the corner, piled with furs.
“It is yours tonight—our gift from both clans. We will come back in the morning to dress you for the ceremony.”
“—And for after.” Vela whispered, a hint of mischievousness in her eyes. Astrid swatted her shoulder.
“Enough of that! They’ve already bonded.”
“Still,” Vela huffed, but they both mercifully left, giggling as they crossed the threshold. The tension I had been holding onto all day released in one go, my shoulders slumping as I sat on the small cot. My hands ran over the soft furs, relaxing as I gripped fine hairs between my fingers. I didn’t like being the center of attention, but I would do it for Benedict. I’d do it for Kieran and Ronan, and for every draken who fought for me when they hadn’t had to back at Dark Haven.
I laid down gingerly on the cot. I had to admit it was quite comfortable. I gazed upwards, able to see a few of the nighttime stars through the hole in the ceiling. I smiled, suddenly more at peace than I had been for a long time. Tomorrow would come, and I would face it, just like I did with everything else.
The morning dawned bright, and I blinked as the morning sun filtered in through the hole in the ceiling. I stretched, throwing off the furs.
“It’s TIME!”
Astrid burst into the hut, Vela on her heels. In her arms was a beautiful purple gown, extremely similar to the one I had worn during the ceremony with Benedict my first night in Dark Haven. The gauze shimmered in the morning sun, encrusted with small rubies and inlaid with golden threads. I squinted my eyes, noticing it looked exactly like—
“Benedict shifted back to the mountain to pick up a few things.” Astrid fanned her face, as if a king risking his life for a dress was the most romantic thing she could think of. I snatched the flimsy garment from her, memories of my first night with the drakens assaulting me as I held the purple fabric. Was there a reason he had chosen this garment? I thought it had been destroyed, but it looked brand new.
“He said he made a few changes to it; mentioned it was more symbolic of your mateships.” Realization flooded me. The purple was for Benedict obviously, the red for Kieran, and the gold for Ronan.
“Wait. You said he made a few changes?”
Astrid shrugged, either not understanding or unconcerned. I clutched the fabric tighter to me, mental images of Benedict bent over with thread and jewels, squinting at the tiny needle and thread in his hands. For a moment I forgot breathe.
“The shade isn’t quite right,” I finally managed, thinking the bright purple a bit garish, and certainly nowhere near the shade of Benedict’s nearly black coloring. I detailed what I was thinking to Vela, who nodded.
“We should be able to arrange that.”
She left with the gown, and I turned myself over to the careful ministrations of the witches. By the time the sun was setting, my skin had been cleansed with milk, my eyes lined in a mixture of ash and kohl, and my lips tinged with berries. Gold dust was brushed on my shoulders and neck, and I smelled divine. Everyone turned as Vela returned, my gown in her hands and distinctively different. A smile curled from the corners of my mouth, and with their help I shrugged the gauze over my shoulders and the band around my breasts, letting the light material float gently down to the ground.
“Perfection,” Astrid said succinctly, with a bit of reverence in her voice. I had no mirror, so I would have to take their word for it. The new color was what I admired most—Vela had dyed most of it pitch black, except for the ends of my h
em and sleeves, which faded beautifully from the black to the original purple color. The rubies and gold were set off further by darker color, and I nodded, satisfied.
“Your mother would be proud,” Astrid sniffed, and with a jolt I realized she meant Rhyfel. It was difficult for me to think of this female draken from legend as my mother, let alone that the witch standing beside me might have known her.
“You said we are meeting at the highest cliffs?” I clarified, changing the subject. The witches nodded, and I held out my hands. “May I arrive in dramatic fashion or is there some sort of other protocol I’m to follow?”
A wicked grin lit Astrid’s face.
“I do love dramatic entrances.”
It was everything you could have wanted for a dramatic entrance. I appeared on a high bolder behind the gathered crowd, alone as the witches had gone ahead and were already present. As soon as my claws touched the stone I straightened, and everyone turned as they smelled me, including Benedict. He stood as a solitary figure on the edge of the cliff, the wind and sea roaring behind him. He was wearing the same blue sash he had my first night at Dark Haven, with a long golden chain hanging down onto his muscled chest.
I smirked as every eye turned on me. In the past I would have hated the attention, but this time I knew I looked good. The setting sun blazed a kaleidoscope of colors behind me, a blazing glory of purples, reds, and golds. I saw Kieran and Ronan at the front of the crowd, their jaws hanging in surprise.
I spread my wings wide, the color blending perfectly into the masterpiece in the sky behind me. I leapt from the rock, letting the wind slow my fall as I landed gracefully for the first time in my life. Benedict raised an eyebrow, and I only lifted my chin in response. I walked forward, drakens and witches alike parting to form a straight path to Benedict. I paused at the front, looking to Kieran and Ronan on either side of me. They stepped forward, each taking an arm. Together, they escorted me to Benedict, and kneeled. Benedict bowed deeply to both, then straightened to take my hand. I noticed his eyes linger on the white patches of skin towards the bottom of my wings. Then he opened his mouth to sing, and all my focus was on him. I had thought his voice was lovely as a human, but as draken—words didn’t exist to describe the sound. I felt it resonate in my soul, as did every other draken in attendance. The witches even looked impressed, their eyes bright and riveted to us.
He sang a song of darkness—of fallen glory and sorrow. It reached out and grabbed my heart, and I didn’t realize I was crying until I touched my cheeks and found them wet. His song ended on a low note that I felt resonate in my chest, a question that needed an answer. Benedict’s amethyst gaze dropped to me, and I instinctively knew what to do. I sang my own song—high and lilting, a soaring melody separate, yet complementary to Benedict’s sorrow. He joined me, my higher counterpoint lifting his melody higher and higher, from the low depths he had plunged to a hopeful, soaring new beginning—
The other drakens joined in, and my entire world was filled with song. Rich, full harmonies swarmed around me, and I not only heard the music, but I also felt it. I kept singing and lost myself. So much so, I didn’t hear the other drakens drop out. I missed it when Benedict stopped singing, only registering the lack of other music when he put a gentle hand on my arm. My eyes snapped open, and I ended my song on a final, high note. There was a long beat of silence, the only sound the roaring of the wind, my chest heaving with emotion. Wyrren stepped out of the crowd, turning back and facing the drakens as the only remaining Elder.
“Drakens of Lyoness, do you accept the song of your queen? Her affirmation of loyalty and love to you?”
Wyrren had barely gotten to ‘Lyoness’ before they were shouting, yelling, screaming ‘YES! YES!’ Their loyalty tightened my chest, and then Astrid and Vela surged through the crowd, a crown held between their hands.
I might have stopped breathing; it was hard to tell. The crown was gold and silver, bronze and iron—many different metals twisted and coiled together in an elaborate pattern. The metals were dotted with stars and moonlight--gems that shined so brightly I was unsure if they were even from the earth. The drakens gathered gasped.
“The covens of the earth and the air bless this coronation with the promise of friendship and cooperation. Knowing you lost your former crowns during the tragedy, we wish to offer you new ones to further signify the rebirth of your species, and our alliance.”
Astrid paused, allowing Wyrren to come forward and bow before Benedict. He withdrew a second crown, bigger than mine but no less majestic. He rose and offered it to Benedict. My first mate put a hand to his chest and knelt before Wyrren. There wasn’t a dry eye as the Elder gently set it atop Benedict’s head, stepping back. He turned and accepted my crown from Vela, offering it up to the King of the drakens.
“King Benedict son of Fane, do you accept this female as your queen?”
“I accept.”
It would be easy to get nervous, but I wouldn’t. This coronation wasn’t just for me or Benedict. It was for Ronan. It was for Kieran. It was for the seventy-five or so surviving drakens, and the scores of witches scattered among them, relying on our help to one day take back their forests.
I sucked in my insecurities and bowed before them, a perfect movement that was the twin to Benedict’s. Wyrren rose and Benedict took the crown with barely a glance at him or the witches. I stomped down my ire and indignation at his continued treatment of the witches. This wasn’t the time or place to make a scene.
“The drakens accept the song of their queen, as do I, their king.” His eyes met mine as he laid the crown on my brow, and I was astonished at how light it felt. I straightened and he turned me, holding me lightly by the fingertips as he presented me to the crowd.
“I present to you Wren—Queen of the drakens in her own right.”
The drakens went wide-eyed with wonder, mumbling to each other. I didn’t pay them any attention, my eyes only on Benedict. He turned towards me, giving me a smile radiant in its sincerity. This man—this horribly infuriating, shockingly damaged man—could still make me weak at the knees despite everything we’d been through together. Everything stopped as he gazed at me with such protectiveness, such pride, such love. He looked away, and the spell was broken. The roar of the crowd reached my ears and I turned, feeling their admiration wash over me. Tears pricked at the corner of my eyes, but I held my emotions back. I couldn’t ruin all the hard work the witches had put into me, after all.
After the cheers had died down, Astrid, Vela, and Wyrren were joined by Ronan and Kieran. Ronan stopped at my side, giving me a rogue grin as he put one hand on my shoulder. Kieran stood next to Benedict, doing the same. The Elder and two witches took a deep breath and said in perfect unison.
“This union is blessed by the people and the earth and skies. Go now and secure our destinies.”
Benedict’s arm was around my waist a second later, and we vanished into the darkness, together at last with all three of my mates.
Eight
Light returned as I stood in a massive treehouse that overlooked the entire southern valley. For a moment I wondered where we were, because this lush, green paradise couldn’t possibly be the desolate wasteland Lyoness had been only a few sunrises ago. Smaller tree houses dotted the horizon below me, already an entire village rebuilt and ready for habitation. Perhaps the witches weren’t that far ahead of the drakens.
“A dozen earth witches were dedicated solely to this project—to have our home ready for your coronation night.”
Our home. I spun around, Benedict’s body tense as he watched me carefully for a reaction. Instead of giving one, my eyes roved around the large expanse. The wooden floor had been covered in woven mats, topped with furs and rugs. Some of them I thought I recognized from the mountain. Small piles of cushions were scattered in the corners, creating comfortable areas to lounge in front of a small, low-set wooden table. Much of the room was taken up by the massive bed—a twin to the one I had left behind in the mountain, b
ut twice as large. It was surrounded by thin, gauze hangings, and covered in silk sheets with a neat pile of furs folded at the edge.
“We should find a water witch to bring back our streams and waterfalls.”
Ronan’s wistful tone broke through the haze in my mind, and my eyes snapped back to Benedict.
“It’s perfect,” I managed, even as Benedict lowered his eyes in shame.
“It is not a palace, and nowhere near what you deserve, but—”
“What I deserve is to finally have a night with all three of my mates worshipping me.” My tone was light and teasing, but the look on my face let them know I was deadly serious.
“Well, if you insist.” Kieran stressed, picking me up and carrying me to the large bed. Benedict growled and I hit the floor, thankfully padded from the furs and rugs.
“Sorry,” Benedict and Kieran both said at once. Ronan snorted.
“Let’s follow the mating order, so we don’t ruin this night before it begins.” He suggested calmly. “This is new to all of us.”
Benedict and Kieran grunted in agreement. My skin tingled, alive with awareness as three predators watched me through heavily hooded eyes. I smirked, then flared my wings and stepped out of the thin gown, letting it fall to the floor in a delicate pool of black, red, and gold.
“Black suits you,” Benedict rumbled, his voice nothing more than a dark, sensual growl. My thumbs hooked under the band of fabric around my hips, and I tugged it down over my knees, stepping out of it. I paused as I gripped the fabric around my breasts, drinking in their locked gazes. I flashed my fangs and bared my breasts. Kieran and Ronan took a step back, struggling not to physically rush to me out of order. I left the crown on top of my flowing, loosely curled hair.
“My queen in everything.”
