Burn

by Penelope Fletcher

  “No. He is not right in his mind. Viktor declared himself Ryuk’s guardian in your stead and left with him. Sevastyan’s grief runs deep. He fears he will never see his offspring again.”

  “And Pasha went with them,” she mumbled, numb.

  “Yes.”

  Marina’s heart ached. Her brave cousin had done more than his share. Still he took on more danger simply because he considered her family, his Queen. Pasha had gone because her Princess couldn’t.

  Marina’s fingers curled under as she asked the next one. “Jakob?”

  A glimmer of jealousy flashed in Koen’s feral gaze. He shook his head. “No. You need not think he betrayed you. He told me not to do it.” His tone was bitter. “And he tried to fight when the Mages came for Boy.”

  “Where is he?”

  “Below. Chained.” He sighed. The male had been badly damaged by the confrontation. Elder Khan had been mending his wounds all day. “He fought valiantly.”

  “My guard?”

  “Are loyal.” Koen was shocked she would believe otherwise. “Vadik and his men knew nothing.”

  “Was Boy frightened?” She whispered the words. Her eyes closed tightly as she fought her anguish. “Was he scared?”

  “I held him. He was brave.”

  “Did he ask for me? Did he–” She stiffened. Her lids flew open and her gaze sharpened. Her tone was queer when she spoke. “How did you get him out of the Citadel? Boy can disappear into thin air. He’s been hiding since they arrived. He wouldn’t have revealed himself.”

  “They possessed the same skills,” Koen muttered, remembering how the Battle Mages had run the youngling down.

  “He would have escaped. Especially since Jakob was willing to help.” Cold eyes bored to his. “So how did you do it?”

  For the first time in his existence, Koen Raad shifted nervously. He did not know what to do with hands.

  He even struggled to meet her gaze as an equal.

  “Daniil made a suggestion–”

  Marina could not believe what she was hearing. “I don’t give a flying fuck what he suggested. He’s a politician. His priorities start and end with his duty. He’ll say or suggest anything if it’s the lawful thing to do. Regardless of who Daniil is to this family you,” she stabbed a finger at him, “were Boy’s father. He looked up to you. He relied on you for protection, trusted you, just as I used to. So, Dragon King,” disgust weighted each word, “what did you do?”

  Koen flinched. Nothing would make his next words any less atrocious, so he simply said them. “We told him you knew. That you agreed. It was the only way he would go without a fight, and without using his magicks.”

  Fragile composure shattering, a sick, agonized wail tore from her throat. “He thinks I abandoned him.” Choking, she spun and batted at the air. Her gaze wildly swung around the room. “You took my son from me. You lied to him. You betrayed me.”

  “Marina, please.” His voice was tight with strain. He could feel her hating him, and he did not know how to stop it. “Ryuk needed to be with his own people. They need him.”

  “He doesn’t know how to be a King. Zaki will slaughter him.”

  “It would have been selfish to–”

  She turned on him, eyes blazing. “He was our son.” The booming shout was amplified by her Dragon’s growl. “Mine.”

  The walls shook, dislodging dust. The fulgurite toppled off its pedestal. It smashed into a million glittering pieces.

  “You must calm.” He pleaded with his hands. “You are too weak for your beast to re-emerge.”

  Dark eyes glowed with fury. Black scales appeared across her neck and cheek. “Explain. How you could have done this.”

  “Marina, you were gone.” Koen averted his gaze. The pain was too fresh to recall without losing his breath. “The Kingdom was in turmoil. If I denied the Eldernmoot their Prince, the Mages would have returned with an army. I had already failed in the protection of this land by allowing the riots to begin. We were divided, and the people–”

  “I would die for them and their families if it were the right thing to do. I expect no less devotion from them.”

  “I could not take it back. I cannot seem weak to an enemy.”

  Koen reached for her, thinking if he could just hold her it would go better. She would see he loved her. She would understand the choice to keep Boy with him had been an impossible one.

  She slapped his hand down. Her aura shifted. Something malignant slithered behind her irises.

  “Koen Raad. I am Marina Zar, High Princess of the Dragon Lands and Queen of the Ice Realm.” Her voice was a feral growl. “Bare your throat to me.”

  He recoiled. Flashed his teeth and returned her growl with a deeper, more aggressive rumbling. His dutiful posture turned rigid, and his slitted pupils blazed with banked flames.

  Viper-quick, his hand manacled her throat.

  With deliberate slowness, he lowered his head until their lips brushed. “No.”

  Her eyes flashed angrily. Somehow, though he held the vulnerable column of her neck, she remained coolly indifferent. “You owe me this. Get on your knees.” She snarled at his stony refusal. “Do it. Or I will break you so bad you’ll hobble on three legs for the rest of your life.”

  “Marina.” His eyes shut. Arousal grew to painful intensity. His Dragon thrashed at the chains binding it, incensed, eager to establish his power. “This I cannot do. Even for you.”

  “I don’t want to fight you right now.” Her eyes were glowing coals. Opalescent scales grew and hardened on her nose bridge. “Who knows what pieces I might tear off?”

  He smirked. Pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth then huskily whispered, “You would regret it,” before lashing her earlobe with the tip of his tongue.

  Frost seeped from the pores on her neck.

  He cursed, forced to release her or risk freezing the appendage solid. “Female! Is this truly how it will be decided between us?”

  Marina’s body was consumed in light.

  Koen Raad felt his Dragon rise to the challenge.

  Magick pulsed beneath his flesh. Flames licked the roof of his mouth and, smoke billowed from the back of his throat. “Very well.”

  Skirt hiked to her knees, Peeta raced towards the alcove Daniil rested within. Stunned to see a servant running through the fort in such a manner, he shifted, magicked clothes then called to her.

  She caught his summoning wave out the corner of her eye. She careened to a stop. Panting, she offered a quick bow. “Lord Kol?”

  Daniil eyed her disheveled state. “What is happening?”

  “Zar and Raad battle in the lower levels.”

  He frowned, cocking his head. “Mikhail is fighting Nikolai? No. The brat would not risk his pretty face. Koen then.”

  “Who am I fighting?” The Council Mon strolled into the open-arched antechamber licking his fingers. “I come from the kitchens. One of the servants worked up my appetite.”

  The males shared grins of masculine satisfaction.

  Daniil’s mirth died.

  Puzzled, he retuned his attention to Peeta.

  The girl had been overcome when her mother left to enter the Barren, but she had never seemed the type to tell falsehoods, no matter how distressed.

  “I thought you said he battled Koen?”

  Mikhail’s expression turned serious. “What? No. Zar’s are lovers not fighters.”

  Both men exploded into riotous laughter. A Zar fought their own shadow if they thought it got uppity.

  “I did not.” Huffing, Peeta shot an impatient look down the hallway. “My Lord.” She impatiently tacked the respectful address onto her previous statement. Her eyes darted from his. “So sorry, but I am missing it.” She picked up her skirt and bolted into the thong of servants rushing past.

  Peeta was nothing if not courteous and respectful. She had not even bowed before she left.

  Despite Marina’s numerous attempts to stage a revolt in the staff they remained all that
was honourable, so Daniil was at a complete loss as of what to make of her behaviour.

  Considering if he should follow, especially to investigate claims of Koen Raad fighting, his attention diverted to a half-crazed newcomer.

  Cathryn staggered into the enclosure. Her arms flailed, and her face was flushed and sweaty. Mouth flapping as she panted for air, she tottered dangerously off balance on her next step, because the entire fortress shook.

  Twin roars of rage shattered the quiet.

  Some of the servants shrieked. Others dropped to the ground to cover their heads. Most ran in a screaming panic clueless as to what happened, but determined to flee far from it.

  An almighty crash shuddered the Citadel hard enough to knock a goblet onto the floor and dislodge the heavy furniture.

  Hooking an arm around Cathryn’s waist, Mikhail pulled her tenderly into his arms. “Breathe.” His brows lowered thunderously as the walls trembled and a vase smashed on the floor. “Calm, and breathe deeply.”

  “No time for air.” Gasp. “The crazy bitch,” splutter, gasp, “is fighting him.” Sweating, she gripped Mikhail’s tunic with one hand as the other fussed with her starched collar. She blinked up at him with glazed eyes. “I can’t handle her anymore. She’s going to get herself killed. It was difficult enough to control her when she wasn’t breathing fire and spitting ice. She’s your spawn. Do something.”

  He really wasn’t listening. He was more interested in watching her chest rise and fall. Blinking, Mikhail tried to pry her hand loose. “Cathryn–”

  “Marina’s fighting Koen,” Nikolai yelled, darting past the enclosure. “Got him by the balls.”

  Armour clinking, Gatson and Sevastyan sprinted past behind him, a contingent of Dragon Men following their bellowed commands.

  To Daniil’s utter shock, Regent Myron skipped behind them, gold eyes wild. He and Mikhail shared an alarmed look. A heartbeat later they were half way out the alcove.

  “Why did you not say something sooner?” Mikhail demanded.

  Exasperated, Cathryn looped her arms around his thick neck and jumped as he bent to scoop her into his arms. “I did.”

  They dashed after the ice breathers.

  Marina reared on her hind legs. Koen’s tail lashed out. Its barbed tip sliced the air where her underbelly had been before she jerked.

  Snarling, she slinked lower and crept forward.

  The once luxurious chamber was destroyed. Furniture was overturned. The immense wooden bed was on fire, the elaborately painted screen frozen into a sheet of ice, and the ceiling and walls were covered in charred burn marks, dripping patches of translucent blue frost.

  Koen pounced and they locked together, crashed through the icy screen, and rolled around amid a nest of splinters.

  He broke the clutch, grabbed her tail by the root in his foreclaws then tossed her down the passage.

  Sprawling, her horn showered the floor in sparks as it scraped against the wall. Sliding to a stop, her wings stuck up at odd angles.

  Gnashing his fangs, Koen Raad climbed up the wall until he walked along the ceiling, stalking her from above.

  Sides heaving, he tipped his snout downward and haughtily peered at her slumped form.

  His nostrils flared. ‘And you think you are worthy of–’

  Marina surged up and wrapped her maw around his throat. With a powerful yank, she slammed him onto the floor. Her bladed tail pierced his and embedded into the rock, trapping it. Breathing deeply through her nose, she released a torrent of icy slush that freeze-burned his hide and ripped her claws into his scales. Males boast too much, she thought, inhaling to release another icy gush of magick that had his great bones shuddering, and his open jaws roaring in pain.

  There could be no mercy.

  The Dragon had to realise it was beaten and submit. It was a creature of tremendous might, but it had to learn. It may refuse to willingly bow to another, but there was no choice in yielding to its mate.

  Terrified of defeat, Koen Raad tried to fight.

  Marina bit harder.

  Blood spurted and leathery skin split beneath her fangs. Red flesh parted beneath her claws exposing bone.

  ‘Enough, Koen.’

  His body was stone beneath her as he refused to give in.

  ‘Yield. I won’t stop.’

  Slowly, his muscles relaxed.

  She felt his Dragon’s reluctance, its resentment, but the moment she felt the balance of power tip in her favour she unlocked her jaw and released him.

  She rolled off onto the floor, sick to her stomach, blood and bile swilling in her maw. Her tail jerked and slipped from the ragged hole she’d gouged in his.

  The Queen had claimed the King.

  They shifted human.

  She on her front, him on his back, they lay battered and bloodied amidst the ruins of a once illustrious corridor.

  Clearing his throat, Koen swallowed throatily, stared unblinking at the tattered banners above. “Treasure?”

  Marina groaned.

  The largest cuts healed during the transformation, but she was still badly bruised.

  She pushed onto all fours, lurched onto her feet and found a gawping crowd crammed at the end of the passage.

  At the front stood Daniil, Nikolai and Sevastyan. All had unique expressions of mixed relief and incredulity. Chest puffed out, Mikhail stood a head and shoulders taller above the rest, He looked proud.

  Cathryn took in their wounds and gagged. Clamping a hand over her mouth, she pushed back into the crowd out of sight.

  Anastasia shoved her way to the front and gaped at them. She barked a laugh then turned to grab Daniil in a rib-bruising hug.

  Unfazed, Captain Vadik ran his gaze critically over her nudity then stepped forward holding aloft a bundle she recognized as a cloak.

  Regent Myron detached from the crowd. He smiled faintly then held up his hands, projected his voice. “The Dragon King has yielded to the Queen of the Ice Realm. Hail Emperor Raad.”

  A rousing chorus of Dragon Lords, Dragon Men and Citadel Guards chanted ‘Hail! Hail! Hail!’ Servants cheered and clapped, happy to have good news after the horrors of the days before.

  Tears flooded Marina’s eyes. She swallowed convulsively, lips dry and cracked. This wasn’t how she imagined the moment. This wasn’t how she was supposed to feel.

  Fingers brushed her ankle.

  “Treasure?”

  The calloused pads burned against her flesh.

  Koen stared at the back of Marina’s head. He expected to see her fists shaking with anger, but her fingers hung loose at her sides. He did not understand. “Treasure, I–”

  “You don’t get to speak to me.” Her voice was as cold and as deadly as the ice plains. “The threat of war is over? Good. Don’t enter my Realm.” Tugging on the leather strip securing the jade around her neck, she tossed it to the floor by his side. “I love you, Koen. I just don’t like you right now.”

  Without another glance in his direction, without pause, she left him there.

  She took the cloak from Vadik as she passed.

  “The dungeon?” she asked quietly.

  The strait-laced Captain wordlessly led her away as her guard from House Ryu surrounded her.

  Koen Raad remained supine watching her walk away.

  The Dragon Lands felt his pain, but were relieved it was over. Celebrations commenced elsewhere, away from their Emperor, a male who betrayed the female he loved to save them.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  “By order of her Royal Majesty the Drackai are herby banished from the Ice Realm.”

  Exhausted after three seemingly unending days of travel through the Barren, Mikhail blinked uncomprehendingly at the smartly dressed male blocking his way with a small army of ice breathers at his rear.

  The last month had been a haze of rebuilding, funerals, and arguments with the Dragon Council and Courts alike.

  The Drackai Queen’s coronation was done, and now it was time for the Wyvrae Queen
to be honoured, accepting the Wreath from the Ice Realm’s Regent, Gavriil.

  Yet the way was barred.

  Riding his crested back, clinging to a ridge of ebony scales, Cathryn wiggled, expressing a wish to demount.

  He did not blame her. He freely admitted it had not been the smoothest of rides.

  The Barren was hellish.

  Sapphire hide complimented by the glistening blue and white landscape, Daniil held up a reassuring claw. ‘There has been a mistake. I shall find the underlying cause of this.’

  As he moved forward, the Wyvrae held up a katana and pointed it at Daniil. The ice breather’s craggy face showed no welcome for one of his kind.

  Daniil snorted angrily. The breath was a white cloud in the crisp, frigid air. ‘I am Wyvrae. I–’

  “I know who you are.” The male returned his eyes to the parchment. “Daniil Kol, you are herby stripped of your titles and land for high treason. Your name has been struck from the hall of warriors, and your retainers will be escorted to the borderlands where they may make their way to the Fire Kingdom.”

  Paling, Daniil rocked back as if struck. ‘What are you–’

  “The punishment for treason is death,” the ice breather continued composedly. “Should you remain within our domain by sundown you will be tried and executed for your crimes against the Wreath.”

  ‘I understand Marina is upset at what happened, but this is absurd.’

  “No, Daniil.” Coming through the ranks of Dragons, eschewing dragonskin to signal a wish to avoid hostility, Jakob made the other male’s lack of title plain. His eyes roamed over the people he knew Marina loved most in the world. He sighed heartily. “Our Queen is grieving.” He face curdled in disgust. “To think I once admired you. Go back to your backstabbing fire breathers. Live with the knowledge the land of your birth is closed to you.”

  ‘I had no choice,’ Daniil roared. ‘I did what had to be done. It is not fair she punishes me for it. I saved lives.’ His mental voice rose in a furious bellow. ‘Do you hear me, Marina? Face me if you mean to damn me.’

  Jakob waved the Wyvrae Dragon Lords back when they snarled and tried to advance. Shifting to dragonkin, he butted Daniil’s shoulder with his snout and roughly shoved him aside for privacy. ‘Did you really think there would be no consequences? He was her offspring. She loved him.’ Using his bulk to push the male back, he turned to look at the visitors who did not have leave to pass the boundary. ‘They forged a bond beyond flesh and blood – it was of the soul. You betrayed them. Goddess knows you are lucky. Your throats would be slit as you slept this night if punishment was mine to levy. Marina’s mercy knows no bounds for she has given you the chance to flee like the cowards you are.’