Dragon Flight

by Caitlin Ricci

  “Repulsive,” Zorin spoke up from her side as if echoing her own thoughts. “Ask them a question,” he suggested as more men crowded around them. There were nods of agreement from the most eager men as they attempted to prove themselves to her.

  “Anything?” she asked, moving close to the protection of his side. He nodded so she turned to the first man who met her eyes. She did know this man and despised him. He had been a friend of Andrew’s and just as cruel as her half-brother was before his death. “Would you take an impure wife?” she asked.

  The man snickered as all gazes turned to him. The bastard probably thought she wanted to test his own purity and whether or not he would take a whore home. “No man of worth would take a whore to his bed.”

  “And if the woman wasn’t a whore?” Isabelle pressed him. The man clearly didn’t see the anger gleaming in her eyes like the rest of them did. Only Zorin and the man across from her didn’t move away from her.

  The man smiled at her. “Not a whore? Princess, any woman who spreads her legs for another man before marrying me is a whore.”

  Before she could gasp in outrage, Zorin had closed his hand around the man’s neck and, with a flick of his wrist and the cracking of breaking bones, he fell at Zorin’s much larger feet. The surrounding men collectively moved back even more as Zorin again returned to her side.

  “You killed him,” she said blandly as her gaze shifted to the men. Her reaction to the man’s death surprised even herself. A year ago she would have at the very least cried out and turned away at the sight of someone being murdered. But this day, standing next to Zorin and warmed in the protection of his shadow, she could only sigh at the waste of life that had been the man at her feet. And she was thankful that Zorin hadn’t made his death bloody.

  “You baited him and knew what answer he would give. You caused his death, I was merely your tool,” Zorin replied with a nonplussed shrug. When she shrugged as well, he turned back to the men who all looked decidedly less arrogant. “Next question?”

  Isabelle nodded and turned to the next closest man. “Would you accept coming after my brother in my heart?”

  He shook his head, but seemed far less sure of himself than the dead man at his feet had been.

  “And why not?” she asked.

  The man swallowed thickly, looking from her to Zorin and then back again as if deciding how much was safe to say. Finally he took a breath and spoke. “I would not settle for less than all of a woman’s heart,” he said in a gentle voice clearly meant to placate her and Zorin.

  She smiled softly at him. “And nor should you have to.” She turned to Zorin. “I grow weary of this party. Will you dance with me another time?”

  He grinned at her. “And the cake?”

  She shared his grin. It was lucky she had finally found a friend willing to share her love of sweets with as long as he learned how to share. “Will be consumed by the two of us and my brother tonight.”

  He nodded. “Then you should make your announcement so that we can go.”

  She nodded in agreement. “Gentlemen, thank you for coming. I would like to now announce my new king consort.”

  “Who is it that you have chosen? You couldn’t possibly have chosen already. The party has barely started and you’ve only danced once. Take your time and choose someone you want to be with, Isabelle. Be smart about this. I urge you,” Amalthea pleaded with her as she silently came up behind them. Her gaze flicked to Zorin and his chin tilted briefly in greeting, but they exchanged no words.

  “Zorin Danube is to be my king consort. Sadly, no other men here met my requirements for a husband. Thank you all for coming and I expect I’ll be seeing many of you again at the council meetings. Goodbye,” she told them before Zorin led her from the garden and back to her rooms. She ignored Amalthea’s hissed intake of breath at the shock of her announcement.

  Honestly, the woman needed to make up her mind. Zorin would make a great king consort and the people of Feeorin loved him. Well, at least the humans did. She hoped that the Angelus of the city would learn to love him in time as well. But somehow she doubted it. If they hadn’t grown accustomed to him in the centuries he’d been alive and living among them, she doubted they would suddenly start to see things differently just because she took the throne. After all, you could never force a person to change.

  “Meggie?” Isabelle called as soon as the door had closed behind Zorin. He had given her a small, reassuring smile as he left and somehow it had made her feel that much better about the decision that she was neither ready to make or enthusiastic about. She had just finished one marriage that was hardly her ideal. She wasn’t ready for another one. But duty said she had to be ready for it. And besides, Caden liked it here and she would never jeopardize his happiness in light of her own.

  Meggie appeared at her side. Curiously she had come from the direction of Caden’s suite.

  “Yes my lady?” she said, giving her a low curtsey.

  “Help me out of this dress. I wish to be comfortable for cake and tea with my brother and Lord Zorin,” Isabelle told her as she began pulling the dress over her head.

  “Have you already chosen your king consort?” Meggie asked as she pulled at the laces.

  “Yes, Lord Zorin,” Isabelle told her. She expected at least some form of resistance in the girl, certainly the men in the garden had been all shocked by her announcement. But the girl’s face instantly lit up into a bright smile and the kind of genuine happiness that was nearly impossible to fake. Suddenly she looked much younger, perhaps even as young as Caden was.

  “You don’t seem shocked,” Isabelle noted.

  Meggie frowned in confusion. “I’m not. We humans all love our Lord Batal. He protects us and keeps us safe, even from the Angelus.”

  Isabelle smiled and exhaled as Meggie pulled off the corset. “It sounds like I made a good choice.”

  “You did,” Zorin agreed as he came in carrying a tray full of sandwiches and cake.

  Isabelle was pleased to see that neither had been too disturbed by their guests. Perhaps they had lost their appetite after seeing one of their own murdered. Or perhaps it was after hearing that they were all found lacking. She really didn’t much care which as long as she wasn’t forced into a corset again today and she could spend the rest of the day enjoying the company of her brother and Zorin along with the luscious cake and a nice soothing herbal tea.

  She gave him a quick glare though for interrupting her dressing without knocking and pulled a robe around her. She’d rather have put on a dress to greet her would be husband in but he didn’t seem like he would be willing to look away long enough and although the thin gown she wore was of a modest cut and length, it was much too sheer to be seen in by him or anyone else.

  “Knock next time,” she scolded him as she stretched out on the couch opposite him and began eating some cake. “And why didn’t you have servants bring this up? Not that I’m complaining of course,” she told him. She moaned softly around a buttery creamy bite of the cake as it coated her tongue in its richness.

  He grinned around a mouthful of roasted venison. “It’s faster my way. Have a sandwich, Meggie, and then go retrieve young lord Caden for me please,” he said to the girl.

  She hesitated for only a moment before she took him up on the offer, taking one off the ham pile and quickly leaving the room. Caden joined them moments later and flopped down next to Isabelle’s feet before taking a cake and a sandwich for himself.

  “How’s the husband hunt going?” he asked her bluntly.

  Isabelle blushed even as her gaze shot to Zorin who gave her a reassuring, although small, smile. “Zorin has agreed to fill that position,” she told him.

  Caden eyes narrowed on Zorin, seeing him as his sister’s husband and not just as his tutor and friend. After a moment he nodded. “Seems to be a good choice if you’re sure, Izzy?”

  She sighed pleasantly for a moment before nodding. “I am.”
<
br />   Caden nodded and settled deeper into the couch as he intently switched between eating his sandwich and the cake in his other hand.

  Chapter Six

  Isabelle walked briskly behind Amalthea. They hadn’t spoken about her choice of Zorin for king. By the stiffness of the queen’s spine and the thin line of her lips, Isabelle doubted she would have chosen him for the king. But Isabelle was confused. Didn’t Amalthea want them married? Didn’t she want her son as the king? Isabelle sighed irritably and kept walking. Really, it was the only way to get what she wanted. Finally. Zorin had promised to leave her alone and out of all but the most major decisions regarding Feeorin. She could live in the country, in her own manor. Away from everyone. She could spend time with Caden. She could go for walks in the woods. She could have a cup of tea and sit lazily by the fire if she wanted to without Andrew barking at her. Or anyone else for that matter.

  That Zorin would be her husband was only a minor concern. She had lived with Faolan for over a year and had learned to love him. That would never happen with Zorin. She was sure of it. But at least they could be civil to each other and Caden adored him as only a child his age could. And that would be enough for her. It would have to be.

  Isabelle looked over Zorin’s stoic expression with a frown. He had told her little about the meetings and she had never before been allowed to attend them. But she couldn’t imagine what would cause the heavy darkness in his eyes or the grim, fierce line of his mouth. She hoped that he would catch her watching him and give some explanation since she could hardly ask him what was bothering him at the moment. But he refused to look at her. She grumbled under her breath which got her a sharp look from Amalthea. Isabelle fought the urge to stick her tongue out at the much older woman and settled for a sheepish smile again.

  This is hard for her.

  Zorin? She mentally shot to him, her eyes going wide. She looked to him, but he continued to look away. She mentally sighed as she decided to play his game. So why is this hard for her?

  You’ll see.

  Finally he caught her eyes, giving her an enigmatic smile that only made her frustration mount. His eyes even seemed to be laughing at her as the subtle hints of color she knew were there began to dance.

  Amalthea stopped short in front of her, causing Isabelle to skid to a halt behind her. Zorin meanwhile stopped with military precision as if he had meant to stop there all along. His gaze turned watchful and wary as Amalthea turned to her.

  “Now, for today I want you only to observe this meeting. Everyone will be introduced by Zorin. He is the mediator and is the only being that you will see able to act with force. If you should feel threatened in any way you let him know. You know how to mind speak correct?”

  Isabelle gave her a quick nod.

  Amalthea cupped her cheeks and gave her a quick pat.

  Isabelle had a warm rush of being cared for as her mother had done so many years ago, but it was over all too soon as Amalthea pulled away.

  “That is good. Very good. You learn quickly.”

  Isabelle wasn’t about to mention that it had taken Zorin almost a week straight and she could only send messages to him and then only just barely. Or the fact that he had to be almost within touching distance for her to be able to pull it off.

  For someone without magic, getting to do this at all is damn near impossible. So don’t feel too badly that Caden mastered it inside of a day.

  She squeaked in outrage which earned her another exasperated look from Amalthea.

  “Both of you….” she shook her head as she looked between Isabelle and Zorin. “I’ve led Feeorin for centuries. Do you have any concept of that?”

  Zorin opened his mouth as if to assure her that, yes, he most certainly knew what that felt like since he was only a few centuries younger than her.

  But she cut him off with a sharp flick of her wrist. “No, you don’t know, my son. Your philandering hardly counts. And, Isabelle, you’re hardly an adult. And neither of you are prepared for this. How could you be? But I can’t rule anymore. This kingdom needs someone new. I’m too old, too set in my ways. And, Isabelle, you’re human. There’s never been a human ruler here. And, Zorin, you’re half human. You’ve been called an abomination for centuries. And I’m sorry you were born to that. But now I need you both to grow up and be unified as we face this first hurdle together. Can you do that? Both of you working together?”

  Isabelle could only stare at her. Amalthea trusted her that much? How had she ever thought that she could just leave Zorin to handle this all on his own? She had no idea that she was actually needed.

  “You balance my power, Isabelle,” Zorin told her, catching a hint of her thoughts.

  She blushed at the realization.

  “Sorry, your worries were loud enough that I couldn’t ignore them.” At least he looked sheepish about it.

  “So we need to rule together?” she asked him, trepidation lacing her words.

  “Afraid of me, little girl?” he lightly teased her.

  She rolled her eyes at him and shoved him playfully away. They both knew she was more afraid of not being a great queen than anything he could ever threaten her with.

  “You will still get your freedom. I promised you that. As long as you don’t disgrace me or Feeorin you can have whatever freedom you desire. With protection of course.”

  She frowned at him and stepped away. “You never mentioned a constant bodyguard.”

  He grinned at her, showing a flash of white teeth. “My magic will protect you better than any human soldier ever could. You will be safe no matter where you choose to live.”

  “You seem pretty sure of yourself,” she challenged him. “Will it hold up against anything?”

  “No creature in the world will be able to harm you once I bind my magic to yours,” he assured her with a confident nod.

  Amalthea, who had been quickly looking over her nails while they spoke, spun toward him. “You can’t!”

  Isabelle thought it was anger that first screamed in the queen’s porcelain features. But it was a fear so deep it tore at her.

  Zorin growled at her. “I can and will. My magic is mine to do with as I wish.”

  “But a binding? Zorin! Be reasonable here,” she pleaded.

  Isabelle cleared her throat. “Binding would be what now?”

  Amalthea turned accusing eyes on her as if she had any say in whatever it was Zorin had planned without telling his mother. “You will both share his magic.”

  Isabelle shrugged it off. “I don’t want it. There, problem solved. Shall we go to the council meeting now?”

  Zorin laughed and pulled her against his side in a bout of affection that had become easier and more consistent between them. Isabelle settled into the hard planes of his side, ignoring the tightening of her stomach as she thought of Faolan.

  “I will bind my magic to yours.” He turned hard eyes on to his mother. “That is non-negotiable.” His gaze was much softer as he considered Isabelle in his arms as she unknowingly moved closer to him, pressing herself more firmly against him as she sought comfort and reassurance from him. “You’ll share my magic. It’ll keep you safe. But you’ll also be able to defend yourself and those around you.”

  “You won’t be compromised at all? What if you’re in danger?” Isabelle asked him.

  Amalthea nodded. “It’ll be a disaster. The first riot would kill you. There’s no way you’re doing this. I forbid it.”

  Zorin’s face turned fierce and Isabelle gasped as she felt a current pass through him and into her. It was warm and protective and it left her feeling bereft and somehow empty. Isabelle blinked past the feeling of need that slowly began building inside her and looked to Amalthea who suddenly had gone very still as she stared at them.

  “Zorin…” she whispered, her long fingers fluttering at her throat as she struggled to speak.

  Isabelle felt another wave of current go through her and she braced herself
against the emptiness that it left her with. But this one only left her feeling calm and centered. “Wha…” she mumbled as she touched Zorin’s chin, turning him toward her. “What was that?”

  He smiled wearily and yawned. “My magic. I gave my mother a demonstration of my abilities since she seems to have forgotten the power I control since it’s been years since I’ve exhibited more than little acts. I have more than enough to split between us and still take care of myself. You got a taste of it because we were touching. I’m not sorry about that. You looked like you needed a little lift.”

  She took a deep breath and looked up at him in awe and wonder. “I feel better than I have in months. I feel rested and like everything will be alright now. You did this?” He nodded. “Thank you,” she whispered against his shoulder.

  * * * *

  He wanted to kiss her. To taste her lips. To hold her against him and feel her warmth against his body. To feel her breathy thanks against more than just the light fabric of his tunic. But she would have pulled away. And maybe even hated him. No, he couldn’t kiss her mouth. But he could press his lips to her forehead. So he did. Amalthea gave him a look as if she knew what he had wanted to do. And she didn’t seem entirely displeased.

  She could be good for you. His mother’s voice drifted into his mind.

  He only nodded. He would not go there with his mother or anyone else. Slowly, reluctantly, he released Isabelle. He took a step away from her and moved around his mother so that he could lead them into the garden where the council gathered. Amalthea moved beside Isabelle and linked arms with her.