Empire of Dragons Box Set

by K.N. Lee

  Lanterns had been hung and were now being lit to celebrate Chenehar, the first spring festival of the year.

  She sighed and looked over to see Aros watching her. Her face lit up and she headed toward him. He was handsome as ever in his traveler’s clothing of a long, belted tunic and blue cloak draped over his shoulders.

  She pulled her long hair from its ponytail and let air cool her sweaty scalp as she ran to the gate where he waited.

  “Aros, you’re back!” Her heart soared. She’d missed him everyday since he left for his studies in the captital city six months prior. Life in Berufell was a bore without him. Cook, clean, train. That was her new life. But, seeing him brought such joy that she couldn’t contain her excitement.

  He nodded. “Of course, I’ve returned. Today’s an important day.”

  “Oh yes,” she said. She’d almost forgot that Chenehar was more than just a spring festival. It meant so much more for young men. She wiped her mouth and cringed at seeing blood on the back of her hand. She sighed. It could be worse. She could be dead back in Skal. “You are of age to join the raids.”

  “Aye,” Aros said. “And, look at you. You're not terrible at this whole warrior training.”

  She laughed. “Thank you, I suppose. I have been training for some time now.”

  He grinned and helped her climb over the short, wooden fence. “No, really. You’re getting quite good.”

  She pulled a twig out of his hair. He must have come straight to see her once he arrived. Such a thought made her smile even bigger.

  “Maybe one day I’ll leave the ring without a black eye or a bruised rib,” she said, licking her lips and tasting the saltiness of her own blood.

  “I don’t doubt that will happen. Uffe is making you into a real sword maiden. And, I can see it in his eyes that he’s proud of you.”

  Amalia glanced over her shoulder at her trainer. He frowned back at her and folded his arms across his chest.

  “Be back at first light,” he said.

  She nodded. “He doesn’t look very proud to me,” she murmured. “He makes me train late most nights. Even when the other students get to go home.”

  “Aye. He doesn’t want to make the other girls jealous. But, if he is spending extra time with you, you must be special.”

  He was right. Uffe seemed to take a particular interest in her. She wasn’t quite sure why, but sometimes she’d catch him marveling at her before morphing his expression into a distasteful scowl and making her train even harder.

  “Come with me,” he said, taking her hand. “We have much to discuss.”

  She followed him away from the training grounds and toward the tavern.

  “Fancy a mug of mead?”

  He scratched his chin and nodded. “Aye. It has been a long journey home, and I’ve missed you.”

  Her voice softened as he led her to a table toward the back, where a warm fire burned in the hearth. “I’ve missed you as well. What did you learn about my birthmark?”

  He gave her a sidelong glance. “More than I expected.”

  She was eager to hear his findings but restrained herself from spewing every question that raced through her head.

  Everyone seemed to file into the taverns, filling their mugs and indulging before the many activities of the evening began. It was one of the few times of year when everyone in the village would get together, share a meal, and listen to word from the Fenrir king about which territory they would raid next.

  This would be the first year Aros would join the raids, and Amalia worried he might not come back the same person.

  The person she had grown to love.

  He sat beside her and placed a hand on her thigh, giving it a squeeze.

  She looked to him, perplexed by the sudden way his brows were creased.

  “What’s wrong?”

  He opened his mouth to speak and snapped it shut again. Then, he glanced at her, barely able to look her in the eyes. Now, she was really worried.

  He summoned the barmaid and she set two frothy mugs on the table before rushing to another table full of thirsty hunters back from their daily hunt.

  “Are you worried about tonight?”

  Nodding, he drank from his mug.

  She rubbed his back. “It will be fine. All Wolves have to be inducted into the clan. You might actually enjoy the raids.”

  He frowned. “You think I want to kill people? I’d rather return to Ludenhold and resume my studies. There’s nothing fun about raiding to me.”

  “But, it’s the way of your people,” she said. “A rite of passage.”

  “And, its wrong,” he replied, whispering.

  She was relieved that he felt that way. She never agreed with the way they would invade enemy lands or even lands of innocent humans. But, that was the way of the Wolf.

  She drank a sip of mead. It was cold and bitter, but refreshing after a long day of training.

  “In Ska—I mean Meuir, the boys all get a party when they turn sixteen and join either the hunt or start to learn a trade.”

  She looked to him, hoping he didn’t catch her slip. She wasn’t sure why she thought he would care where she really came from. He already knew her biggest secret. Why would he care if she came from neutral territory?

  “That’s different. The territory raids are just the beginning. The monsters we hunt and kill in the Feral Lands are another story, entirely. Human boys don’t go off to pick fights with monsters.”

  “Some do,” she said. “Most pirates are human. They kill sea monsters from what I’ve heard. And there’s the northern folk with their battle ships on the coast of Kjos. I hear they raid monsters as well. Or, they used to.”

  “What do you know about Kjos?”

  She chewed her bottom lip and shrugged. She knew more than he could imagine. “The people who used to live there were mighty and powerful.”

  It was true. Her ancestors had built an empire to rival all empires and kingdoms. Her mother had told her stories that would spark such a thirst for adventure that she would dream about the land of her people and what it would be like to see it for herself.

  “Well, they no longer exist. The Brotherhood made sure of that.”

  Hearing those words sent a chill through her body. She hadn’t heard mention of the people who changed her life forever in years. The people who probably killed her parents.

  “You know about the Brotherhood?”

  He nodded and drank more mead, avoiding her gaze.

  When he didn’t elaborate, she leaned closer, eager to know more. “How?”

  “There’s not much to know. We trade with them sometimes. That’s all.”

  How did she not know that? She’d never seen one of the monks in the village.

  “Aren’t you afraid of them?”

  “Why should I be?”

  Their eyes met and she kept quiet. There were still things she couldn’t reveal.

  “You know that if I take a mate, I can stay in the village and start a family before I go off on the raids, right?”

  Amalia’s cheeks flushed. Of course, she did. She nodded.

  He downed the rest of his mead and stood. “I want to show you something.”

  Could it be? Perhaps her prayers would finally be answered. Perhaps Aros would choose her as a mate. Even if he didn’t, any opportunity to spend time with him was worth the world to her. She drank another gulp of mead and joined him.

  A smile spread across her face as he took her hand and led her out of the tavern. Several onlookers noticed and gave her a nod of approval.

  Perhaps all of her years of praying to Eris and Enit were about to be answered.

  22

  Amalia and Aros left the tavern and stepped outside into the cool, dark night. The smell of roasted pork and goose filled the air. The women of the village were preparing the feast while the men readied themselves for the fighting events that would take place before the meal.

  “Are you thinking of taking a mate?” Amalia as
ked him as they walked down an alley between two rows of houses and into the dark forest. She wished she had her cloak to warm her exposed arms. She wished he would ask her to be his mate even more.

  He glanced over his shoulder at her. For a moment, he looked like he wanted to say something. Instead, he simply nodded and stroked the back of her hand with his thumb.

  They walked along the brook and away from the village. Darkness filled the wooded areas and the sound of crickets filled her ears. It was an eerie setting—one she’d rather refrain from.

  The Feral Lands were far enough away to not expect any monsters or malicious creatures to appear, but that didn’t mean the humans and Wolves weren’t wary of them.

  Danger lurked in the most unlikely of places. Amalia knew that.

  Still, she couldn’t help but smile as Aros tightened his firm grip on her hand.

  She could barely see his face as they walked deeper into the forest, and for a moment, she thought she saw a light in the distance.

  Her heart skipped a beat as she heard crunching of leaves come from behind them. She paused, but Aros didn’t stop with her.

  “Almost there,” he said.

  She licked her lips and looked over her shoulder and into the darkness. “I thought I heard something.”

  “Probably a deer,” he said.

  “I’m not certain it was a deer. Let’s go back.”

  He didn’t listen. Instead, he pulled her along until she tried to let go of his hand. When he tightened his grip, her heart sank.

  “Where are we going, Aros?”

  Her eyes darted from side to side and her throat tightened.

  When he didn’t answer her, she swallowed hard and her mind raced with worry.

  He wasn’t going to ask her to be his mate. That much became clear as a fire began to emerge before them.

  Cloaked men waited.

  And, a cage.

  Amalia’s scream filled the forest as she realized who those men were. She’d seen those robes before. She’d hoped to never see them again.

  As Aros—her best friend, and the boy she loved—picked her up and shoved her kicking and screaming into the cage, a hole was burned in her heart.

  Eyes wide with terror, she gripped the bars of the cage which was set on the back of a cart and looked to him, pleadingly.

  “Well done, my boy,” Father Marduk said.

  She’d never forget his voice, even if she couldn’t make out his face from beneath the hood of his cloak.

  “What have you done, Aros?” Amalia asked in between sobs. She could barely breathe for the panic of the situation coursed through her veins like hot liquid, rising to her chest and neck, making her cheeks red.

  This was what betrayal felt like. It was like a million stabs to the heart.

  He looked down at her, and she began to wonder if he was ever a true friend. In his eyes was something she’d never seen. Within them was a darkness, a black heart, a coldness. As he knelt before the cage, she coiled back and covered her mouth.

  There was no love or kindness in those eyes.

  Where was the sweet boy she’d fallen in love with? When did this stranger take her Aros away?

  Tears streamed down her face. “Why?”

  He lowered his voice and came very close to the bars. There were whispers from the monks and she quickly counted three of them. Two on firedrake’s back, and one to steer the horse-drawn cart.

  “I did it for you,” he said, and her mouth snapped shut. “You’re not a Wolf, Amalia. You’re a Mage, and you belong to the Brotherhood. It’s time for you to stop running. One day, you’ll thank me.”

  As the cart rocked and pulled away, she stared at Aros until his image became a blur in the dark.

  Those words repeated within her head for hours as she was driven away in her cage. The pain didn’t last.

  She had no room for pain or grief anymore.

  By the time they stopped at the shore and carried her onto a ship, a deep-set scowl had taken over her face. She’d scratched the skin on her arms until they were red, raw, and bleeding. Numb, and full of hatred, the Brotherhood had chased a scared little girl for two years, and had found a woman.

  A warrior.

  Her eyes flickered up to see an odd sight as her cage was set in the belly of the ship.

  An eagle sat on the top of a crate, perched high and watching her with black eyes that glowed in the dark.

  It watched her, and she could have sworn it knew what she was thinking.

  Her scowl was replaced with a look of bewilderment, and when she blinked, it vanished.

  She pressed her back to the bars and folded her arms across her chest as she stared at the spot where the eagle had been.

  “I’m waiting,” she whispered into the darkness. “And, I’m not afraid. Not anymore.”

  23

  Raiding season was upon the Wregardians. A season of slaying. The Feral Lands were said to have been where the gods kept their failed creations. Monstrosities. Creatures from the darkest of nightmares.

  And, for the raiding clans, it was a place to not only prove oneself as a true warrior, but there was plunder aplenty to be had when a monster was killed.

  The Sea of Dreams was set aglow by the sun. It’s blue-green waters shimmered and rocked as Kylan and his clan boarded the ship.

  Kylan stood on board and looked to the sky. The Age of Dragons was said to have ended, but the last remaining clan were prepared to start a new era. Each monster killed bestowed great power amongst all present. And so, they worked as a team to take down whatever creature they’d been hunting.

  With Vidar and Holgar at his side, Kylan was ready for another successful season. His father stood at the front of the ship, stoic in his heavy bear hides.

  Glory was what they sought. Enough glory to one day bring them back to their ancestral home.

  I just wanted a normal life,” Vidar said, his eyes red from the constant spray of salt water.

  “Normal? If I wanted a normal life, I’d have stayed at home and tended to the wheat fields with my nine children. You think this is work? Try listening to triplets bawling like dying coyotes for hours every night,” Holgar said as the waves crashed and rolled around their ship.

  Water sprayed Kylan and the others in the face, drenching them.

  It had been like this for days.

  Kylan and Vidar both looked to him.

  “Every night?” Kylan asked, lifting a brow.

  “Every bloody night.”

  Kylan mocked shivering, though his clothing was stuck to his body and he was indeed cold. “Well, then. You sure that’s what you want, my friend?”

  Vidar shook his head. “I didn’t say all of that…”

  “I’d prefer to bloody my sword any day,” Holgar said, chewing a piece of dried meat.

  “Right. I just miss the days when a quick slash of my sword was all it took to silence a man,” he said, images of the monks rising after death still lingering in his mind. It kept him awake some nights. The Brotherhood was real, and they were determined to rule the world.

  It was up to Kylan and his clan to reclaim their homeland and put the world back in balance.

  “Those were the days,” Holgar agreed.

  “Quit your complaining,” Davyn said, placing a heavy hand on Kylan’s shoulder. He narrowed his blue eyes—the same bright sky blue as Kylan’s—and lowered onto the seat beside him. “You are my son, and one day you will be pack leader. But, for now, you will do as I say.”

  “Kill a dozen and a hundred pop up in their place,” Kylan said.

  “A thousand could pop up, boy,” Davyn said and Kylan cringed.

  At twenty-four, when would his father stop calling him that?

  “And, we will slay them all to find her.”

  Groaning, Kylan rolled his eyes.

  Her.

  The lost heir to the Erani Empire.

  24

  It was the middle of the night when Kylan was awakened from his deep slumb
er. The ship rocked and swayed and though muffled, there was a great deal of shouting pulsing through his door.

  Vidar burst into his room, his face wet and his clothes soaked. His cheeks were red.

  “Get up,” he shouted in a hoarse voice.

  Kylan didn’t need to be told twice. He stood from his cot and grabbed his sword. His stomach was in knots as he heard the shouts from above deck.

  “What’s happening out there?”

  Vidar scowled. “Bloody Brotherhood ship.”

  Those words froze Kylan in his tracks.

  It couldn’t be. A grin came to his lips.

  “Well,” he said. “Let’s kill us some monks, shall we.”

  “Wipe that grin off your face,” Vidar said.

  “Why?”

  “These monks are different from the ones that attacked us. They are stronger. Their leader is powerful and is destroying the ship. He—”

  Kylan’s face paled. He stepped to Vidar and realized that his best friend couldn’t look him in the eye.

  There was something about the way his words were cut off that warned him that he knew exactly what Vidar was going to say. Still, he needed to hear it. He needed to be told it wasn’t true. His heart thumped in his chest so loudly that that was all that he heard.

  “He what?”

  Vidar lowered his eyes and turned to leave. “Your father is dead.”

  The ship rocked and nearly turned onto its side as Kylan repeated those words inside his head.

  How could he let such a thing happen?

  He didn’t have the time to answer the question racing through his head as a loud explosion broke him from his thoughts.

  Vidar had already run ahead. Enraged, Kylan leaped three steps at a time to reach the deck.

  The colors that lit up the sky were unnatural.

  In the center of it was one man.

  With arms outstretched, he summoned several rune spirit orbs and sent them flying into his ship.

  Kylan tightened his jaw.

  That wasn’t just any man. This monk was the father of the Brotherhood. And, as far as Kylan was concerned, he was about to be a dead monk.