by K.N. Lee
With a roar that shook the ship and got the monk’s attention, Kylan shifted into a dragon and flew into the night sky. His adrenaline pumped and his heart raced. When he’d gone to bed that night he never expected to wake up to have his life changed. There was so much he never got to ask his father. So much he wished he knew about his mother.
Now, he was alone.
The monk didn’t back away. He flew toward Kylan on the back of a red firedrake.
With another roar, he charged at the monk, his talons outstretched and ready to rip his throat from his body.
“Calm down, Kylan,” the monk said.
Kylan paused, eyes widened. Did the monk just say his name? How did he even know it?
“We don’t want any trouble with your clan. Let us pass and I won’t kill anymore of your people.”
“Who are you?” Kylan asked, flying for a closer look at the older man.
He wore blue robes with a hood and all Kylan could see were his glowing eyes and the tattoo of the Brotherhood on his forehead which also glowed. His rune spirits floated in the air above his head like sentient beings, almost as if watching him.
He didn’t know what the colors meant, but there was a red, and blue, and a green orb.
“I am Marduk, father of the Brotherhood. I know who you are and I respect you. But, you need to turn your ship and go back home.”
“Are you the one who killed my father?”
Marduk was silent for a moment. Then, he gave a single nod.
That was all he needed to know.
He summoned all of his fire and energy and expanded his lungs until they stretched and burned. Marduk began circling his hands and they glowed bright like the light coming from his eyes.
Before he could muster enough energy to cast whatever he was preparing, Kylan blew a steady stream of fire that ripped through the sky and assaulted Marduk with its power.
When the flames died down and his vision cleared, he stared in shock as Marduk stood on the back of his firedrake, and sent a bolt of lightning into his body.
He sucked in a breath as he fell from the sky and shifted into his human form.
All went black and he cursed Enit for lying to him.
25
“ Well,” Marduk said, peering into the cage as Kylan opened his eyes.
For the first time, Kylan got a better look at the man who had disarmed him as if he were a child pretending to be a dragon.
Hate filled his heart as he sat up in a crouched position in his cage.
“I tried to warn you,” Marduk said, lowering his hood. “But, looks like I will have to find another use for you. After that show of power last night, I am sure that won’t be too difficult.”
“Let me out,” Kylan warned. He summoned his rune spirit and felt his body go cold with the realization that it was not there.
“Oh,” Marduk said, nodding to him. “Your rune spirit now belongs to me.”
“It’s not possible,” Kylan said and turned with a start when he saw that at the other end of the cage was a girl.
Marduk turned to leave the room. “I’m sure whoever gave you a rune spirit promised you the world, but sometimes you’re just a pawn in a bigger game,” he said, and Kylan’s stomach dropped.
Was it true? Did Enit trick him?
Now, he wished he knew more about the gods instead of taking her word as truth.
Speechless, he sat back down in defeat and stared at his hands. Where was his ship? Where was his clan? This raid was supposed to be legendary. It was supposed to bring them enough glory to return to their ancestral home.
Instead, it had ruined everything Kylan had thought he knew and destroyed all that he loved.
One Marduk left the room and closed the door behind him, the girl crawled over to him.
She was beautiful, but it didn’t matter. His zest for life had been stolen, and he wanted nothing more than to be left alone. Still, she looked to him with a quiet curiosity that was almost intriguing.
“You’re hurt,” she said, and reached out to touch his face.
He caught her by the arm before she could touch him, but that was all it took.
A gasp was sucked from his throat as he wrapped his arm around her wrist.
Every fiber of his body jolted and ignited with light. A wave of euphoria filled his veins and his heart raced so quickly that he was certain it would explode at any moment. She closed her eyes and embraced the sensation before opening them to reveal silver eyes aglow.
A similar light was reflected from his own as he looked back at her.
In unison, their widened eyes rose to one another’s, and they knew. Everything they’d ever been told and everything that had been kept a secret all of their lives was revealed in the eyes of the other.
They were born for one another. They had been bonded by the fates long before they even existed.
She touched his face and he touched hers and with a deep sigh Kylan felt himself fall harder than he’d ever imagined.
“I’m Amalia,” she said, breathing heavily as her chest still heaved from what they’d just experienced.
“Kylan,” he said, entranced.
This was what he was born for.
Her.
She was his rider, and he was her dragon.
The world was not ready for their pairing. It wasn’t ready to be changed forever.
26
The wind blew onto Aro’s face as he stood upon the cliff, overlooking the Sea of Dreams. In his Wolf form, he could see far and hear the faintest of sounds.
He could still smell her.
Her scent clung to him like a parasite, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.
Amalia would hate him.
That much he was certain of.
But, as he looked to the gentle waves he prayed one day she would forgive him for what he knew he had to do.
He lowered himself onto his belly and rested his head on his paw.
Love was a terrible disease—one he wished he could find a cure for. If he would have known that his heart would be broken, he would have sent her the other way that fateful night he’d saved her life. He could have been cruel. He could have told her that he knew he would betray her one day.
Eris sat on his right side and Enit sat on his left.
They stroked his fur and the three of them watched the sea as the sun began to set. It was beautiful, yet Aros couldn’t muster an ounce of joy. The girl he had dreamed about as a child was gone, and he feared he’d never see her again.
“You did well,” Eris said.
“Very,” Enit added.
“Now what,” Aros asked.
“We wait,” the gods said in unison.
Copyright © 2018 by K.N. Lee
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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Prologue
The sun burned a bright red as the clouds broke way for its rays. Magic danced and swayed along the breeze like a beautiful woman.
Naked, pure, free.
Saskia’s heart thumped in her chest as the dragons descended, ridden by cloaked men, raining flames on her home.
The Brotherhood.
Blood gushed from her mouth as Rikar took her by the hand and helped her to her feet.
She’d called for Muri and had leaped from her bedroom window. When he didn’t come to save her, it was by the grace of the gods and her Mage abilities that she didn’t die from her devastating fall.
Where was her dragon? Where was her soulmate?
“Hurry,” Rikar shouted at her, over the thumping of her heartbeat in her ears, over the screams of her family being slaughtered inside the palace.
“But, mother and father,” she cried.
The look on his face said all she needed to hear. S
he and her brother had to escape.
She climbed to her feet and together they ran, as far and as fast as their feet would take them. Into the woods they fled, with nothing but the clothes on their backs and the faint spark of hope in their blood.
Though bones were broken and heart followed suit, she needed to survive.
For the child.
It fluttered in her belly, as alive as the trees stretching to the skies. It lived, and so must she.
The future of Erani depended on it.
1
The roar of thunder and lightening did nothing to mute the pounding of Kylan’s heart in his chest. The creaking of the ship and sloshing of salt water beneath them went ignored.
Amalia, she’d said.
Such a name must have been bestowed upon her by the gods.
He had to be dreaming. Such captivating portals—that welcomed him like an old friend—stared back into his eyes, into the deepest depths of his soul.
Swallowing, he leaned closer, studying them. They were the shade of melted silver mixed with swirls of clouds, unlike anything he’d ever seen, and he’d come face-to-face with a goddess before.
This young woman was more beautiful than Enit, more enchanting than the sunrise and sunset.
Darkness smothered them. Amalia outstretched her arms before her and cast a faint glow that bathed their faces as they studied one another. His throat went dry and he blinked, entranced by not only her looks, but the magic he could smell, see, and feel radiating in the stale air around them.
Her scent of fresh rain and pine was one that he would never forget, or lose again.
She was the one. The Mage. His Mage.
He lifted a chunk of her hair, struck white at their touch. It was a stark contrast to her raven locks that fell in thick waves over her shoulders and to her waist.
“How did that happen?” Amalia asked, narrowing her eyes at the white streaks in her hair.
“Magic,” he said.
“Are you hurt?” Amalia asked, touching her lips with her fingertips as she tilted her head and searched his face. It was then that he knew that she felt it too. She traced the scar left by the firedrake on his cheek.
“A man without scars has not felt the hardships of life or the feeling of pain,” he said.
She gave him a questioning brow.
“Its just something my people like to say. We all carry our scars with pride.”
Kylan took her hands into his. Still baffled by her beauty and the gravity of what had just happened at their first touch, he traced the lines on her palm with his finger as she watched him in silence with those pensive silver eyes.
The ship rocked and swayed, and every creak of the wood was magnified by the silence that passed between them.
“Have we met?”
“Only in spirit,” he answered. “Mine has called out to yours from the day I was born. Did you not feel it?”
She shook her head, biting her bottom lip. “I don’t know what you mean? I’ve never seen or heard of you before this day.”
“But, we were made for each other,” he told her.
Heat stained her cheeks before a look of fear flashed in her eyes and she pulled away.
He would give anything to erase all fears from her mind. He reached for her and she coiled back in a defensive stance. She she truly not know what had just happened? Despite her hesitance, he touched her again, gently taking her hand and releasing her balled fists until his fingers were entwined between hers.
Besides Enit’s surprising kiss, he’d never touched a woman so intimately before, and it stirred an itch within his chest that he wished he could scratch.
Her lips parted as he bowed his head and kissed her knuckles.
“What is happening?” Amalia asked in a whisper as her hair glowed and their skin began to share the same golden ray of iridescent light. Gold dusk sparkles around them. Such magic was unheard of back in Wregard. But, not in Kjos.
“I am the keeper of the Erani Empire, and you—you are my master.”
She sucked in a breath, but didn’t pull away again. Instead, she moved closer, as if desperate for the warmth of his body. “Master?”
“Yes,” he said, softly, touching his nose to hers as they bowed their heads to one another. Magic ran along their flesh in a dance that neither thought was possible. “You are the last heir to the Erani Throne.”
Recognition dawned on her face and an audible breath of awe escaped her parted lips.
He gave a half-smile. “It’s true. You are an Empress.”
Despite everything he’d been through and being imprisoned, he had what he’d been searching for. Such a twist of fate couldn’t have been coincidence, but that’s exactly what he believed it to be.
“My clan has been waiting for your return for as long as we can remember,” he said, leaning in to kiss her plump, pink lips.
She jerked back, breaking their bond, leaving him as cold as if he’d been shoved into a winter storm after having been basking in the warmth of a fire. The chill in his bones ached, and he needed to touch her again, to fulfill the call of his body for hers.
Shame filled his heart and he regretted what he had just tried to do. Contrary to what he’d told Vidar about the many women he’d been with, Kylan was a novice when it came to the fairer sex.
“I’m sorry,” he said as she hugged herself, and huddled in the corner. “I don’t know what came over me. It’s just that I’ve waited my entire life to find you, and now that you’re here I seem to have gotten a little excited. I hope you can forgive me, Amalia. I would never hurt you.”
“Its not you,” she said. “I just need a moment to my thoughts.”
She buried her face in her hands and turned away from him.
“Very well,” he said, wishing he could console her. To see a woman cry was something that stirred compassion within him.
He sat back down and wrapped his arms around his legs as he watched her. He wanted to ask her about her life and how she came to be a prisoner on the Brotherhood’s ship, but space was what she needed. So, he gave it to her.
They had time to discuss what must happen—all of the time in the world.
Unless, the monks planned to kill them.
2
A storm raged above, yet Marduk did not seek shelter. He embraced the cool rain, his hood down, and head tilted back as the droplets of water washed over his face.
Victory.
He had exactly who he had come for. Descendants were the target, but he found someone far more valuable. For once, the future looked bright. There was hope for his survival after all.
A smile came to his face as he shut his eyes and opened his mouth to the rain. He could have wept with joy. The world was changing, and he would ride Tiki, his firedrake from the sky and watch it bend to his will.
The rocking of the ship broke him from his thoughts. A cracking of lightning cut through the twilight and stretched into the horizon.
“Do you think its a good idea to keep her caged with that savage?”
“How is it that you have acquired such stealth, Brother Dagan?”
Dagan shrugged his shoulders, folding his hands into the long purple sleeves of his robes. “It is one of the seven steps of Brotherhood, is it not, Father?”
“Indeed, and you seem to spend your days faithfully practicing the art of sneaking up on others. I’d rather you practice the art of silence,” Marduk said.
Dagan began to stutter a reply. Marduk rubbed his temples, sighing.
“Go on about the girl, Dagan,” he murmured, his patience running thin.
“Yes. I simply do not trust the look of him, nor his gall. He’s rugged, unruly, practically vile, and unwholesome. Certainly not fit to be in the same room as her, let alone the same cage. I was against a cage from the beginning. Isn’t she far more valuable than some common Mage? If he puts one finger on her, I might kill him myself.”
Marduk chuckled to himself, lifting a brow. “Why Dagan, you’re at le
ast twenty years senior any monk on this blasted ship, yet you speak of killing someone. That’s not your calling.”
“This is true, Father. Still, I have the skill and agility afforded by more than half a century of training.”
Marduk nodded, eyeing Dagan in a new light. He did not doubt the words he’d just heard, but they surprised him nonetheless.
Dagan was lucky to have been included on the mission, and had exhibited a new sense of pride at having been triumphant in pointing Marduk in the right direction. Now, it seemed he also had a measure of protectiveness over their female prisoner.
That was of great interest to him.
Marduk turned to Brother Dagan. “Fine. Separate them. Lock her in the supply room.”
“Forgive me. But, Father, I’m not sure—”
Marduk spun around on the older monk whose eyes were a pale cornflower blue and wavering with fear. “Very well. Put her in my cabin. Its not as though I sleep anyway.”
“As you wish, Father,” he said, bowing and backing away, his eyes downcast, long white hair falling forward. “I will see that it is done, and that she is well looked after.”
“Not too well,” Marduk said, cracking a devious grin that crinkled the corners of his eyes. “Keep your wrinkled fingers off of her.”
Dagan paused, face reddening to the shade and shape of an apple, but kept his thin lips pursed.
Once he was gone, Marduk summoned his spirit runes. The powerful spirits were thoroughly recharged and the balance of energy had transferred from his body to the orbs.
They materialized above his palm and floated into the air until they were right above his head.
Weary, he needed the surge of vitality his magic afforded him. With a deep breath, he absorbed the power they radiated, and pulled it into his lungs and every vein of his body. It was a constant pendulum of cause and effect. He gave the spirits power, and they returned it to him when called.
