The Dragon Mage Collection
Page 62
“That was careless of you,” Jade reprimanded through a fierce gaze over her shoulder. I leaned against the wall, averting her judgment as she clutched Mitch’s bloodied hand in her own. “Full-out with the High Priest blades, over knives?”
“Geez, Jade, way to build my ego,” Mitch muttered from his place on the edge of the dining table. “It’s fine. I don’t want anyone taking it easy on me. Teagan didn’t mean to.”
“You could have lost your hand. I can’t touch you and have your bones regrow, Mitch.”
“I just lost my head for a bit,” I grumbled.
Mitch chuckled, wincing when Jade poured pungent oil along his bloodied fingers. “Yeah, when you got into a glaring match with Prince Ced. It’s like you were trying to read his mind—or let him know how much you hate him.”
Jade reeled her brilliant…terrifying, emerald eyes against me. She had this passionate way of driving knives through my lungs—slowly—with her angry looks. I swallowed, cleared my throat, and looked away. I knew there would be more questions later.
Crossing my arms over my chest, I pretended not to notice she was unraveling my thoughts with her eyes when Gaia shoved through the opening.
“Mitch…” she gasped. “Are you alright?”
Mitch notably brightened when my mother joined the room. “I’m good. Just a small cut.”
Jade grabbed clean towels while Gaia inspected Mitch’s wound. “Mitch, I’m not certain you know what constitutes a small cut,” Gaia whispered.
“That’s what I said,” Jade murmured. “It seems both these boys are trying to prove something, but it’s going to get them injured—or killed when it really matters.”
I shifted uncomfortably when Jade called me a boy. She was angry—I got it—but if she knew what disgusting things Ced was thinking with his warrior, well she wouldn’t be so friendly with the lindworms.
“Teagan,” Gaia asked, her voice soft and opening that place in my soul that only she could reach. “This is an angry wound. You two weren’t…you weren’t angry with Mitch.”
“No,” I blurted quickly. “I didn’t mean to hurt him.”
“He didn’t,” Mitch growled, holding his hand still as Gaia and Jade wrapped it with bandages once his skin had been repaired. “He was all lost in his rage with the prince. You all know I’m a legal adult in the human world—you know, eighteen and all. No need to baby me and send Teagan to time-out.”
Jade smiled, and the tension lifted in the room a little. Mitch had a way of doing that, but still her words were sharp and directed at me. “Well, if I remember right, you were behind Thane’s decision to bring Ced and the warriors into the cave,” Jade snapped, gathering the supplies in her hands
I stepped to her side, taking some of the burden from her grip. She met my eye, asking a thousand questions with one glance. How would I tell her what I heard?
I wouldn’t. Not yet.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, ignoring the way Gaia and Mitch watched like we were the only entertainment needed. “I’ll try harder.”
Jade’s shuddering breath seemed to draw the tension from her shoulders. Her eyes weren’t filled with the same fire, and the gentle brush of her thumb over my forearm sent my head spinning. “See that you do,” she breathed. “I need you to focus on what really matters. Not grudges. I need you to be focused—to stay alive, Teagan.”
Jade brushed past me, the citrus smell along her skin breaking through my haze. I wanted to follow, but Gaia touched my hand.
“Care for some advice?”
Advice from a mother? Something I’d never really had. Aunt Liz was a great mother, but our lives were chaotic, and there was always something that kept us apart so we never could connect on the deep mother-son level. Obviously, being a secret dragon mage probably had something to do with it. Gaia’s golden eyes were smiling when I glanced up and nodded eagerly. Advice from a mother who understood me—yes, thank you very much.
“Secrets do nothing but corrupt even the strongest bonds. Whatever burdens you here,” she placed her hand over my heart, “take it and place it in her hands.”
“What if some things would only burden her more?” I whispered. Mitch jumped off the table, hugging his hand against his chest, but he stayed silent as though he understood the moment was between Gaia and me.
“It is your job to protect her, but to shield her from the deepest parts of you only brings anger and misunderstanding. I once kept my feelings to myself. My fears, I brushed aside. As a result, I was so disconnected from my marriage bond, I didn’t see my own husband was about to slaughter everyone I loved.”
My breath caught in my throat. Gaia hadn’t ever expounded on her former relationship with Bron. “You had no part in his decisions. None of what happened is on you,” I muttered, watching Mitch nod in agreement at the table as though he were a part of everything I said.
Gaia smiled, but there was a heavy sadness in her features. “We may never know what could have happened. All I know is I vowed never to hide away again. You are entitled to some privacy, but if there is a real burden, son—something that eats at the energy of your soul—do not hide it from the one who loves you, from all those who love you. That would be my advice.”
I nodded and glanced at the ground when she walked by before turning to Mitch. “And you—don’t think you can escape without knowing should anything happen to you, my heart would break just as much as the day Thane and Teagan were taken from me. You are getting stronger armor.”
Gaia didn’t let us respond, she simply ducked into one of the tunnels and disappeared. I smiled, already feeling as though a burden was lifting from my shoulders. I had a mom—and I found I really loved her.
“Dude,” Mitch said, his voice breaking slightly when he slapped my shoulder. “I sort of think your parents are adopting me.”
I chuckled and slung my arm around his shoulders. “I’m sort of okay with that. Come on, if we’re brothers then that means you get to help with damage control with Jade.”
Mitch’s eyes were wide, and he shook his head. “Nope, you can deal with the dragon queen all on your own.”
How strange it was that not even a year earlier, I was a bitter, troubled orphan without direction. I couldn’t recall a true friend apart from Liz. Now, I was here. Parents, friendship, a brother—and a woman I would love until my last breath. No, the way my lungs breathed with every thought of Jade, I knew it would be much longer than that.
Chapter 17
The Queen
I meant each word I’d said to Teagan. The toils of my heart were complicated and heated my already boiling blood to a heat that drew sweat along the back of my neck. Frustration at his reluctance to see Ced for what he really was raked at my mind, yet in the same breath I could understand where his suspicions stemmed from. Teagan eavesdropping on private conversations didn’t sit well in the bottom of my gut. Though, after hearing the plan from both Thane and Teagan, I agreed that in war, drastic measures needed to be taken. There was part of me that didn’t believe Ced was the only one they wanted to invade with Teagan’s secret. The truth Teagan had unlocked an ability to hear wyvern conversations was still remarkable.
He truly was a dragon mage.
I brushed away the glistening sheen dripping in the folds of my golden hair. The soft waves curled in damp ringlets behind each ear. Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes. I needed to get my emotions in check. Still carrying the bloodied towels that reeked with Mitch’s blood, I thought of the other words I’d said. I wanted Teagan to stay focused—to forget this obsessive grudge against Ced—because my greatest fear was Teagan having any sort of blinders over his eyes. He could die, and death of Teagan Ward was unacceptable.
Gaia was stronger than me—of that I was certain. If Teagan was ripped from my life as Thane had been ripped from the High Priestess, I was positive my body would curl up and I would will my life away. I knew how it was done, and to me, it was a marvel Thane had not given up hope and demanded his life e
nd.
I brushed away a single tear that splattered onto my cheek, my lids downturned until I slammed hard into the stony muscle of a warrior.
“Forgive me,” I breathed. “I wasn’t watching.”
My breath caught in my throat when I recognized Tao’s sharp eyes locking onto any weakness I might have in my heart.
“My queen,” he sneered, bowing low.
“I didn’t see you, Tao.” My heart raced with great thumps against my chest. I wasn’t a fool and knew how Tao thought of me. In this warrior’s eyes, I was a traitor to our people.
“There is no harm done,” he muttered. Tao’s accent was thick, but he slowly enunciated each word so I might hear him without a glimmer of doubt.
I nodded, the lump in my throat constricting tighter when I gently eased around Tao’s broad, rippling shoulders. He didn’t move in the slightest, and kept his unblinking eyes on me. Tao wanted to intimidate me—it was working—but I refused to show weakness. I couldn’t; I was the queen, after all.
“Well, then. I will be on my way.”
When my back was away from Tao, he spoke again. His voice was cool, almost unfeeling, and it chilled my skin along the spine. “There isn’t any harm done—yet, my queen.”
I sighed quietly and slowly faced the warrior. Pressing my shoulders back, I did my best to keep my chin tilted up and my face set as stone. “What is that supposed to mean, Tao?”
Now he moved, and I wished he wouldn’t. Stalking close, Tao towered above me by two full heads. His dark hair dripped into his narrow eyes, catching along his thick lashes. “I believe Your Highness understands what I mean. Though you may have thrown your lot in with the enemy—I will have none of it. I watched snakes slaughter the once great King Lux. It will not happen again.” I swallowed nervously when Tao brushed one of my curls off my shoulder. He smirked—it wasn’t meant to be kind. “It is true, Highness. Your very grandfather died at the hands of Nag. Your parents as well. I wonder what they might think of the sole heir to their blessed throne joining with those who cut out their hearts.”
My lips pressed firmly into narrow lines. Rapid breaths puffed in and out of my lungs in a wash of fury. “You speak out of line, Tao. You have no right to say such things—especially when you do not understand all things.”
“I understand, Queen Jade,” Tao hissed. “I understand you are young—perhaps the dark High Priest was convincing—or the Prince of Night. You are impressionable without your advisors and warriors at your side at all times. I understand there is a difference in the male lines and the female lines.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” My voice was like a razor, direct and deadly. By now, I gripped the folds of bloodied bandages and oils against my body as though they were the only thing keeping me afloat in the ocean of violent fury.
Tao scoffed. “It is no secret. King Lux ruled in wisdom—there was little emotion, as it should be. Lux understood alliances, he understood the power of our people. He understood the dangers of bringing the lindworms. I know he feared for when his daughter, Reya, would ascend the throne.”
“You can’t know such things. You were likely a forgotten warrior lost in the shadows of truer men, like Thane, or Raffi, or Leoch!”
“I do know such things,” Tao snarled, his face pressing inches from my own. I gasped—not out of fear, but against the fierce anger bleeding from the warrior into my soul. “My father was an inner throne room guard. He spoke of how Lux worried about his daughter’s sympathies.”
“Thane was my father’s guard—only one warrior stood above him. He had no qualms about my mother becoming queen,” I snarled.
“True, but still Thane was not always invited into the throne room. He was not the lead warrior at the time. My father heard much exchanged between the king and the lead warrior, Gregor. Would you care to know why your grandfather feared when his only female child would rule?” I didn’t miss how he spat the word female. I never imagined I would deal with misogynistic warriors. “It was because of you. Your mother’s affection and lack of focus made her an unfit ruler. Your grandfather was considering passing the crown directly to your father—until he, too, was too distracted with emotion. You can see, even from infancy you have been driving a wedge in the elemental people. Who is to say what might have been if your parents had been blessed with a warrior son to lead the royals—not an empathetic daughter who demands treaties with the snakes? I believe they would be alive—living—breathing—happy.”
I was ashamed of the tears that streaked my skin. Tao’s harsh words rang in my ears like a gong blasting its vibrating tune against my brain. My mother and father loved me—everyone told me so. Never had the idea that such love could be a negative thing crossed my mind. In the back of my mind, I knew it wasn’t my fault they had died, but the slicing shot to my heart was slowly killing me the longer the warrior blazed his hatred in my direction.
“Tao!” a booming, terrifying voice broke through our terrible conversation. I drew in a long, shuddering breath and met Leoch’s eyes. The warrior’s blond hair was wild around his shoulders, and he clutched tightly to a spear as though preparing to use it. “You will step back from the queen.”
Tao hissed through his teeth, but I was sure it was meant only for me. “Our queen calls everyone as equals. I am permitted to speak freely, am I not?”
Leoch glanced to me, but I was still frozen in the bitterness from the warrior. Leoch cleared his throat and took protective steps between Tao and me. “That is for the queen to say. From where I stood, you were not speaking freely on anything that would add to our current situation. From where I stood, I had every desire to carve out your tongue, brother.”
Leoch’s words sparked me back to life. I glared at Tao, dropped the medical supplies and curled around Leoch’s protective stance. “You spoke out of turn, warrior,” I growled. “Though you may not agree with my decisions, you have neither offered any better options, nor declared loyalty to the royal bloodlines. In my eyes, that brings my trust in you to a flatline. You accuse me of not being strong like King Lux—well, I assure you, the disrespectful dialogue you spewed from your lips would never be accepted in my grandfather’s court. That I know. And neither is it accepted in mine.
“Leoch,” I breathed as adrenaline raged through my veins. “Is such an encounter commonly brought to the lead warrior?”
Tao glared at his closest friend, but Leoch didn’t falter as he nodded. “Yes, my queen. Such disrespect is something Thane would care to know. Immediately.”
My jaw clenched, and I met Tao’s eyes. “You see, Tao. I am not afraid to ask for guidance and it does not make me a weak queen. But never forget that—never forget, I am queen.”
Tao released a steamy breath through his nose. “Yes, Highness. And now you will play on the sympathies of Thane against me. It is biased and unjust.”
“Sympathies of what? Is Thane not fair?” I snapped.
“He is—was, until our queen was revealed to wear the seal of his son. I fear our valiant laws have been corrupted when such power runs through one family line. We now have the dragon mage and the jade bloodline joined and no room for any others. There will be no room for any sort of democracy.”
Leoch gripped Tao’s arm and tried to pull him away, but I waved him off. My nose nearly touched Tao’s—yes, I had to rise onto my toes, but it didn’t lessen the fire in my eyes. “Then you, Tao, do not understand my heart in the least.”
Leoch dragged Tao out of my space, glancing over his shoulder he nodded. “I shall see to Thane.”
See to Thane was exactly what Leoch did. I didn’t think I’d ever seen the calm-hearted, kind lead warrior look so very—deadly.
Eisha clutched my hand as we sat with the other royal lines at the head of the battle den. The flames in the sconces were manipulated and blazed higher than physically possible, but it added to the emotion in the room. Teagan stood on one end of the line of royals, with Gaia at the opposite end. In the high shadows, where the fir
elight didn’t reach, I sensed Ced peering over the ledge—watching away from everyone else.
Warriors and mages stood, some perched on ledges beneath where Ced and the lindworms were, while Thane paced with angst in each step and glowered at Tao. The warrior was kneeling on the hard stones, his face lowered. Eisha had explained he was not allowed to meet any royal eye during his formal discipline.
“I’ve lived for over three centuries,” Thane growled, his eyes a mad blue, and it seemed Teagan’s father was on the brink of shifting forms if any more anger spilled out of his body. “And never…never did I think I would stand here delivering out punishment to a trusted, valued warrior. Tao, do you understand why you have been brought before all your people?”
“Yes, commander,” Tao muttered.
“More so than never dealing out formal discipline,” Thane snipped, lowering in front of Tao, his voice sending a shudder through all who watched. I wondered if the others could hear, for although I sat mere feet away, Thane’s tone was so dangerous I could hardly make out what was said. “I have never seen such disregard for a royal bloodline since the dark High Priest slaughtered our people. In this moment, Tao, I’m ashamed to say you remind me of his dark soul. You understand how it breaks my heart to compare you to the one being I would risk everything to wipe from this earth.”
“I would never wish to disappoint you in such a way, commander,” Tao responded. “My words were out of line and spoken in anger.”