by Lili Zander
Two big, strong arms surround me from behind. “I’m right here.” He turns me in his arms, and I look up into his dark eyes. “I love you, princess.”
Swoon.
That’s another thing about Erik that is unexpected. Not only is he a gentle lover, but he’s also the most vocal about his feelings for me.
“I love you too.”
Hours later, I’m happily buzzed from several glasses of wine. Yeah, yeah. I know I said ‘never again’ but come on.
Silas and Sarina are getting ready to leave. “It’s time for us old people to get to bed,” my father says. “You kids keep partying.”
Erik laughs. “Silas, you do realize that we’re several hundred years older than you, right? Even Rhys.”
Rhys flips off Erik. I watch my father leave and then turn to the birthday boy. “You ready for another dance, love?” he asks me.
I look around to make sure Bastian’s within hearing distance. “Follow me to the restroom,” I whisper, loud enough to be heard. “I think it’s time for me to give you your birthday present.”
I look at Bastian as I say it, and nearly fall off my barstool laughing when he chokes on his drink.
Rhys looks puzzled. “What am I missing?”
Bastian sputters and coughs. “Nothing good,” he replies. “You should leave. Trust me on this. Some presents are much better at home.”
I sigh dramatically. “Spoilsport,” I pout. “Well, I suppose your present will have to wait. Let’s dance.”
My loved ones are safe. All’s well in the world. I’m surrounded by my mates.
I’m a lucky, lucky girl.
As we wrote Blood Prophecy, we fell in love with Aria’s best friend Bea. She was funny and fearless, and as it turns out, was in the middle of quite a lot of excitement of her own.
Wolf’s Mate—Bea & Jesse’s story—is only available to mailing list subscribers. Click here to read it! (You’ll be joining both Lili Zander and Rory Reynolds’ newsletters.)
Want more Aria? You’re in luck. Turn the page to read an exclusive bonus story, Dragon’s Ghost.
Dragon’s Ghost
A Blood Prophecy bonus story, set immediately after Gideon Zyrian is defeated.
1
Aria
Not going to lie. Part of me wishes I’d killed the Dark Dragon. With or without magic, I don’t like the thought of him going free.
But mostly, I’m relieved. The closest I ever came to killing someone was when I almost choked Dr. Brown, the fox-shifter who tried to kidnap me and hold me for ransom. Mateo had stopped me then, something I’m profoundly glad about. I don’t care if it makes me sound like a wuss—I’m not ready to have someone’s death on my conscience, no matter how much they deserve it.
Bastian fills me in on what happened during my fainting fit. “You’d fallen to the floor,” he says. “And of course, of our focus was on you. Zyrian shifted and flew away while we were distracted.”
“And you’re not concerned? Really?” I ask again. “He’s got allies, doesn’t he? Like that Luka Mettler guy, like the pack of wolves I passed entering the castle?”
“He does,” Bastian says. “But those who allied with him did so because of his power. Now that he doesn’t have any…” He shrugs. “Like rats fleeing a sinking ship, they’ll desert him and come back to the fold. Zyrian can’t shield them from my wrath anymore. Don’t worry, mausezähnchen. The Dark Dragon can’t hurt us any longer.”
I really hope so.
Poor Bastian. I have a feeling that he’s going to be exceedingly busy in his Head-Honcho-of-the-Magicals role for the next few months. Ah well. I’ll have to think of creative ways to distract him from work.
Silas is sitting in one of the armchairs by the fire. He looks exhausted. It’s the nature of the healing magic. The greater the wound, the longer it takes to recover, even with the help of magic. And Silas is already ill. His TTP is under control, thanks to the excellent care that my dragons have arranged, but it certainly can’t be good to have your throat slit open by a conscienceless psychopath.
Though he’s going to hate it, Silas is going to have to be on bed-rest for the next week or two. Sarina is going to have her hands full dealing with him.
Sarina. Belatedly, I realize that Lukus Hyde and about two dozen wolfs from his pack, including Sarina, are actually here in Nome. They’re probably going out of their mind with worry. We really should get back.
I’m ready to get the fuck out of Zyrian’s castle. It hits me that now that he’s not a threat anymore, we can get back to Manhattan. No offense to Castle Jaeger, but I’ll be honest, I’m ready to be back home. Nothing tastes like New York pizza.
“So,” I ask brightly, getting to my feet and brushing the dust off my jacket. The Dark Dragon’s housekeeping staff really don’t seem to have done much cleaning. Then again, working for a deranged monster can’t exactly be good for employee motivation. “We’re done here, right?”
Bastian’s tone is regretful. “I’m afraid not.”
That’s about the last thing I expected to hear. I jerk my head up. “You want to stick around in Zyrian’s castle?”
“Not even a little,” he replies with a grimace. “Unfortunately, we don’t have much choice. By now, every dragon in the world knows that the curse has been broken.”
“Umm, okay?” I’m missing something. “How many dragons are there anyway?”
“At last count, seventy-seven,” Erik replies. “There could be more. The Russian families are intensely reclusive. The Ivanov twins, for example, haven’t attended any of the balls in over two hundred years.”
“And at least a handful of them will be on their way here,” Casius inserts helpfully.
Still confused with a side of alarm. “But why?”
Erik gives me a grim look. “What do you think?” he asks. “They’re coming for Zyrian’s treasure. Brace yourself, princess. We’re going to have quite a fight on our hands.”
Argh. It never ends.
I’m about to ask more questions—and maybe whine a little—when my vision goes dark. My head spins, and my gut churns. I have the strangest sense of dislocation. I’m being pulled…
…elsewhere.
2
Aria
When awareness returns, I scramble to my feet, my hand on the hilt of Endellion, just in case. What the hell just happened, and where the hell am I?
I’m in a circular room. There are four tall windows set in the stone wall. I rush to the one closest to me and look out to orient myself. All I can see is the sea.
“You’re in the tallest tower in the keep.”
I’m so startled to hear a voice in a previously empty room that I almost fall out of the window. I look up to see Bastian’s mother standing next to me. “Great,” I mutter under my breath. “Ghost mother-in-law to be.”
Maija Essen, the Silver Mage has been dead for five hundred years. She’s not really here in Zyrian’s castle, but she seems to have a habit of leaving these memories of hers lying around, waiting to talk to me. It’s kind of… creepy.
If she hears my snarky comment, she gives no sign of it. “You defeated Gideon.”
“How do you know?” I ask her. “Was it a foregone conclusion?”
She’s in her human form. She’s wearing an emerald-green brocade gown with elaborately puffy sleeves, and her jet-black hair is styled in curls that are piled on the top of her head in a style that would ridiculous on me but impressive on her.
“I’m tied to your consciousness,” she replies. “I can read your memories.”
Including the memories of Bastian and I doing it? Eep. Eep. Eep.
I repress a strong urge to put my hands over my ears and chant la-la-la-la-la at the idea of Bastian’s mother rummaging through my thoughts. The sooner I get the dragon out of my head, the better.
“So you came to congratulate me?” I hint, wondering what the best way to ask her what the hell she’s doing here is.
“Not exactly.”
> She lapses into silence, and I grow nervous. “You don’t want me to be mated to Bastian?” There’s a tremble in my voice. “Because I’m Norm?” I straighten my back. I don’t care how prejudiced Maija Essen might be about Norms. I love my mates, and I’m not planning on going anywhere.
She gives me a puzzled look. “Why would you think that?”
We’re like two boxers at the start of a fight, circling each other warily, looking for a crack in the armor, for a hidden weakness that we can exploit.
Or maybe that’s all just in my imagination, and she adores me. It’s hard to say with the dragon. She’s not exactly chatty.
“Because I have a Norm’s lifespan?”
She frowns. “You are the dragons’ mate. Your life is tied to theirs.”
I think this means I’m going to live as long as Bastian, Erik, Mateo, Rhys, and Casius, but why the hell won’t she just spell it out? I see where Bastian gets his tendency to be cryptic from. “What does that mean?”
“Exactly what you think it means,” she retorts. “Enough about that. I brought you here for more pressing things. Have you noticed what’s wrong with this room yet?”
Umm, no. I was too busy trying not to think of you searching my memories.
“Not really.”
“Look around again,” she says, her voice more encouraging than before. “See with your magic.”
I close my eyes obediently. Not because of any great desire to please the dragon, but because if she’s magicked herself back from the past to talk to me, I’m willing to bet that it’s pretty damn important.
Huh. That’s weird. The threads of magic are all tangled up. As if something in the middle of the empty room is repelling them…
“Good. That’s Zyrian’s spell. You’re not supposed to notice the void.”
What’s the void? “Why?”
“Something’s missing from the room, Aria. Summon it into existence.”
One day, I’m going to ask a question and Maija Essen’s memory is going to give me a direct answer. But that day isn’t today.
I take a deep breath and probe the space. “There’s nothing there…” I start, and then notice the tiniest strand of magic that’s out of place, as if it’s snagged on something. “Hang on. What the hell?”
I tug at the strand. It’s surprisingly heavy, and I have to yank with all my might.
I went fishing with Silas once. He caught a fish. I cried and cried when I saw it fight for its life, wriggling on the line, and begged Silas to set it free. Shocker—we never went fishing again.
But pulling this thread of magic reminds me of that day. There’s something here, something on the other side of the thread. Something heavy.
Something that wants to stay hidden.
My grip on the strand of magic freezes. I have no idea what I’m pulling. What if, on the other end of the line, there’s a shark instead of a minnow?
“I need some straight answers,” I say flatly. “What exactly am I pulling up?”
Her voice turns haughty. “Are you questioning me? The person responsible for your powers?”
I snort inelegantly. “Please. You weren’t giving me magical ability out of the goodness of your heart. You were doing it to save your people. I was a pawn in your scheme.”
Bastian’s a lot nicer than his mother, and he certainly doesn’t use people. He must take after his father.
“So yes,” I continue defiantly. “Before I unleash something that might cause carnage and chaos, I want to know what the heck is down there.”
She takes a deep breath. “Fine,” she concedes. “I suppose you have a right to know. You’re pulling up the Runestone of Brísingr.”
“What’s that?”
“A clear crystal, as big as a fist,” she replies. “Trapped inside are the souls of the unfortunate magicals that Gideon killed. The wraiths haunt this castle because they can’t leave, Aria Archer. Set them free.”
See? Was that really so hard? Just tell me why you want me to do something, and I’ll cooperate. Withhold information, and I’ll get my back up.
“Okay, let’s do it. I just have to pull it up, right?”
She lifts a hand to stop me. “It’s not that easy. This room isn’t where the Runestone is hidden.”
“Huh?”
“You’re in a vision, Aria,” she says impatiently. “I’m a memory, preserved inside you until the right moment arrived. I don’t know where Gideon hid the Runestone. You need to find it on your own.”
Time to start searching then.
The Silver Mage, is, however, wrong about one thing. I won’t be finding the Runestone on my own. My mates are going to help.
3
Mateo
One moment, Aria’s face is filled with dismay about the prospect of staying longer in Zyrian’s gloomy castle.
The next moment, she’s not here anymore.
Her body is still exactly where it was. She’s sitting cross-legged on Zyrian’s floor, warming her hands by the fire, but her spirit is missing.
The others don’t notice right away. Bastian’s muttering something about the dragons on their way. Erik’s talking quietly to Silas. I’m reasonably sure that the two of them want to hunt for the Dark Dragon, but I’m just as sure that they won’t. Silas is still weak from the healing, and Erik won’t leave Aria now. Not when he almost lost her.
Where is she?
I suppress the fear that rises instinctively in me and send my senses forth to search for her. The strength of the magic that bursts out of me almost rocks me to my knees.
Casius sees me flinch. “What’s wrong?”
I ignore the power that fills me. That’s a mystery for another time. I have more urgent priorities right now. “Aria.”
He looks her properly, and jerks up in shock. “What the hell?” he swears. “Is this one of Zyrian’s tricks?”
“No. He’s not here.” There’s no trace of the Dark Dragon’s oily magic. For the moment, he’s not a concern.
The strands of magic hum through the air, each thread crackling like a sparkler. I don’t understand it. Is it something in Zyrian’s castle, some residue of the dark curse, some spillover of leftover power that I’m tapping into?
Then I see Aria. Her spirit is directly above us. “She’s in the central tower.”
All the others—not just Casius—are watching me now. “Let’s go,” Erik says, jumping to his feet. “Zyrian might not be here, but I don’t trust anything in this goddamn castle.”
But before we can rush to find her, Aria gives a great, shuddering breath and her spirit reunites with her body. Her clear gaze falls on us, and she seems to relax.
“Your mother wanted to talk to me,” she says to Bastian. “She said the souls of the wraiths are trapped inside a crystal called the Runestone of Brísingr, hidden somewhere in the castle. She wants me to find it and free the wraiths.”
I wince inwardly. Damn it. Now we’re really not getting out of here anytime soon.
4
Aria
The way I see it, nobody should have to hunt for trapped souls on an empty stomach.
The last meal I ate was back in Germany. There was food on the plane, and I’d told myself to eat some of it, knowing I’d need the energy to deal with Zyrian. But though the chicken club sandwich was delicious, I couldn’t bring myself to finish it.
“I’m starving,” I announce once I’ve finished telling the dragons about my encounter with Maija Essen. My mates, I mentally correct, wondering how long that’s going to take to sink in properly that the five dragons are mine. It still feels like a dream sometimes. “Can we go see if there’s any food in the kitchen?”
If we’re forced to stay in Zyrian’s castle for a few days, we should find somewhere to sleep too. Right now, I’m hopped up on adrenaline, but I’ve traveled through so many time zones in the last twenty-four hours that any minute now, jet lag is going to catch up, and I’m going to crash.
Erik frowns. “Where is the help
? I’ve seen no sign of them.”
“There was a woman who let me in. She didn’t say much. Not that I blame her, of course. Can you imagine what it must be like to work for Zyrian?” I look around the room. Apart from the two armchairs by the fireplace, there’s no other furniture. No pictures or tapestries to soften the space, no rug on the floor to keep the chill from seeping through. It’s just a big empty space. Stone walls, and the stone floor where Silas almost bled to death. Depressing as fuck.
“Let’s go look for her,” Bastian says grimly. “I want to question Zyrian’s staff. See if they know where he might be hiding.”
Oh dear. In the mood he’s in, Bastian’s going to scare the crap out of them.
Casius clears his throat. “Hang on,” he says. “Before we all charge off in different directions, we need to take five minutes and form a plan.” He gives Silas’ slumped body a concerned look. “Let’s give Hyde a call. Silas needs food and rest. He doesn’t need to get in the middle of a dragon turf war.”
“Good idea,” Mateo agrees. “Hyde can also deal with the Red Growlers that got in our way. I did some emergency healing of the badly injured ones, but they need real care.”
Bastian nods his head. “You’re right. If we don’t call the Alpha, I’m going to have to hear endless protests about dragons trampling on wolf rights.”
I don’t want to let Silas out of my sight, but I have to concede the wisdom of Casius’ words.
“Should we look for bedrooms?” Rhys asks. “Since we’re probably stuck here for at least the next day or two?”
My heart sinks at the idea of us splitting up. “Can we stay together? This place gives me the creeps. Maybe Mateo can magic us some sleeping bags, and we’ll stay right here?”
