Dragons Sky

by Noah Harris

There was no trace of that left, and it was a jarring comparison. Rajiah could still hear Arulean’s hollow laugh when he’d asked if they often fought, and could still see the cold sneer with which Lyphnia regarded her mate.

  Dragons had long lifespans, but he had never witnessed mates becoming so cold to one another to such a drastic extent.

  “How was she?” Lyphnia asked, breaking the silence and drawing him out of his thoughts. He glanced sideways at her, admiring her powerful and beautiful profile as she stood, back straight and chin high, arms crossed over her chest. “In her last moments,” she continued. “How was she?”

  Rajiah looked away, eyes fixing over the horizon and the rolling mountain peaks. “The same as she was in life.” He heard Lyphnia’s soft, amused snort, and found himself smiling wryly. “She didn’t give in easily. Didn’t lie down and let death claim her. Didn’t say it was her time to go. She cursed death and said if he wanted her, he would have to fight for her.”

  “That sounds like mother,” Lyphnia said almost fondly. “What took her in the end?”

  “Age, I believe. It’s a miracle she lasted this long, especially without slowing and getting stone scales like most elders.” He picked at the hem of his robe’s sleeve. “She was sick, and the healers couldn’t find anything wrong with her, or make her better. I think she knew she was dying, and accepted it, but wasn’t happy about it. The healers said she lasted longer than she should have. She called for me, and I think she refused to go until one of her children was with her.”

  Lyphnia nodded solemnly and spoke softly. “We were her reason for living. We were her purpose. It doesn’t surprise me that she wanted one of us there to carry her ashes.” She tilted her head then to look at him. He saw the movement out of the corner of his eye, but kept his gaze fixed on the horizon. “Why did she choose you?” she asked, not angry or upset or bitter. Merely curious.

  “I think I was the closest at the time, and she knew she wouldn’t last long enough for one of us to make a longer journey.”

  “I think it was because you were her favorite.”

  Rajiah looked at her, startled. She regarded him calmly. Again, there was no bitterness in her voice. She was merely stating a fact. His lip curled. “I was not. She was on my tail for centuries, trying to mold me and prod me into following in her footsteps. She was disappointed in me when I went off on my own and stopped responding to her summons.”

  “You were still her favorite.” Lyphnia said, eyes searching his. She lifted a hand, running her fingertips gently under his jaw, tilting his chin so she could examine his face. “The golden child. The young omega. The only omega she ever birthed. The rest of us were strong and powerful alphas, yes, and she was proud to have been our mother. But you were her favorite. You were the one she hoped would follow her example.”

  He swatted her hand away, face souring. “Yeah, and that turned out so well.”

  “She may have prodded you and pushed you, but she never forced you. She didn’t chase you down and choose a mate for you, and we both know that she could have. But she let you go. She waited for you to make a choice. That’s proof enough that you were her favorite.”

  Rajiah made a face and looked away. He knew his mother had had a soft spot for him, and that made her disappointment in him sting that much more. He was the golden child, destined for greatness. A greatness he never fulfilled because everything she wanted for him was nothing he wanted for himself.

  “I think your father was also her favorite.” Lyphnia continued. “She had many lovers and many mates, but most of them were chosen for their fertility and power. Your father was a dragon without a name and without a legacy, but she chose him nonetheless.” She glanced at him again. “You look like him, you know.”

  “I know,” he said softly. “Mother used to tell me.” He’d never known his father. He had died in the wars and the Purge long before he could meet his only son. “I always thought you were her favorite,” he said truthfully. “You’re so much like her.”

  She laughed humorlessly. “Perhaps a little too much at times. We butted heads more often than not. But I would be foolish to say she wasn’t proud of me. She was. She would be a fool not to. Other than her, I was the most powerful alpha female of our kind.”

  “You still are.”

  “I still am,” she said, not bothering to hide her pride. “She was proud of my accomplishments, but I was never her favorite.” Rajiah was silent, unsure of what to say to that admission. “Did she say anything in her last moments?”

  Rajiah’s lip curled, nose wrinkling. His stomach roiled unpleasantly at the memory. “She made me make her a promise.”

  “Oh?”

  “I’ll let you guess what that promise was.”

  “To find a mate,” she said. It wasn’t a question.

  “To find a mate,” he affirmed.

  “Will you?”

  He shrugged. “Only time will tell.”

  “This Summit is the best chance you have to assess what’s left of our race.”

  “I know.”

  He knew, but he wasn’t happy about it. He had promised his mother that he would try his best to find a mate and attempt to have children. He had promised, but he wasn’t sure he could keep that promise. Finding an alpha willing to mate with him would be easy, of that much he was certain. But he didn’t want just any mate. He wanted someone he actually felt a connection with. His mother had said that was a fool’s idea. She had mated with plenty of dragons she hadn’t loved.

  But, deep in her eyes, he saw the sympathy. He saw the understanding. She knew how deep a mateship could be if there was a connection and love.

  Rajiah tried to think about a perfect mate for him, tried to imagine the possibilities of what he might look like, tried to summon up an image of what he wanted. Yet all he could see were scales like the night and eyes like shadows in a snowstorm.

  He flew back to the valley feeling both light and heavy.

  Rajiah had spent a lot of his time during the last few centuries away from his own kind. Dragons were rarer than they had been, and in most cases, they were independent creatures. Dragons didn’t live in packs like most shifters.

  Their hierarchy consisted of the elders: wise, respected, and powerful, but without the youth, stamina, and strength to lead at the front lines of their race. Below them were dragon kings and queens, powerful dragons given the title by the Elders. And the Elders were very picky about who they bowed to. When dragons were more plentiful, there were more kings and queens. The world was split into factions, and each king and queen had their territory. They were the equivalent of pack leaders, of a pack’s Alpha. The difference was the fact that dragons were stubborn and aggressive creatures by nature. Most couldn’t stand to be around others for years at a time.

  So dragons mostly lived on their own, either in their own territories or as roamers. They mostly lived as mated pairs or with close friends or family. Each dragon was bound to a king or queen, and those kings and queens were supposed to listen to the elders. So in a way, they formed a pack, but it was a pack that was widely spread, didn’t live together, and gathered on occasions.

  The Summit was one of those occasions.

  There were many reasons for a Summit. In the past, they were usually for more light-hearted occasions. Summits were held in celebration of their kind, as a way to gather and see those they hadn’t seen in years. To feast and dance and have tournaments and simply revel in being a dragon. Mates were found, mateships were celebrated, newly presented youths were shown off, and children were introduced.

  Nowadays, Summits were called for much more melancholy reasons: for important decisions to be made. This Summit, for example, was the most important one in a millennium or two. All the Elders, or at least the important ones who weren’t hidden away in caves, were dead. There was only one remaining official dragon king and queen pair. Dragon kind had decisions to make about their future.

  Yet, despite the apprehensive atmosphere, a Summit w
as still a Summit. And a Summit was nothing if not a party.

  A two-week long party to be precise, beginning on the third full moon since the call went out. There would be meetings, of course, to determine their future, but between those meetings there would be feasts and music and dances and tournaments.

  In the weeks that followed Rajiah’s arrival, dragons poured into the valley from all over the globe. Dragons of all shapes and sizes and colors. Males and females. Alphas, betas, and omegas. The old and the young. The battle worn and the summer children. They came in flocks, and they came alone. Some settled into the rooms at the castle and some chose to settle into the caves along the mountain sides that bordered the valley.

  Dragons were everywhere, in human and beast form. Rajiah couldn’t walk through the castle without running into one and couldn’t look up at the sky without seeing the flash of light against scales.

  It wasn’t that he wasn’t used to people. Rajiah may not have spent a lot of time around his own kind, but he also hadn’t been alone. He had spent a lot of his time among other shifters, roaming around the world, spending months and years with different packs. He’d been with wolves and tigers, eagles and serpents, foxes and lions. Anything and everything in between. He wasn’t shy around them. He loved people.

  Yet, he found himself seeking sanctuary more often than not when confronted with his own kind. The weeks passed sluggishly, and he found refuge in the valley more and more often, speaking with and spending time with the local shifters who had moved there for sanctuary. He didn’t see much of Lyphnia or Arulean in that time. It wasn’t surprising. They were both busy.

  Still, he often found his eyes upturned when dragons passed, or glancing at movement in the halls, searching before he even realized who he was searching for, who he was trying to catch a glimpse of. Each time, disappointment filled his gut, churning before he forced it down and away.

  It was an unconscious reaction, and one that he wasn’t happy to have. He wasn’t a fool. He knew exactly what that feeling meant. He knew exactly what was growing inside him. And he knew exactly where this was going if he didn’t put a stop to it immediately. Just as he knew it wasn’t his place to have this feeling at all.

  There were some things and some people who were simply off limits, and Arulean was at the top of that list.

  Rajiah had forgotten just how boisterous and loud his own kind could be. The Summit wasn’t set to begin for a few more days, but the castle was full of dragons. He hadn’t seen so many in one place in centuries. And while some of them preferred to go out and hunt on their own, most chose to eat in the castles dining hall at the nightly feast.

  Tables filled the room, each packed with people. The variety in the room was astounding. Their human forms were just as varied and beautiful as their dragon forms. The tables were packed with food and dishes and plates. Servants roamed the room, making sure the wine and ale kept coming.

  Energy filled the room, buzzing and near sparking as it crackled along his skin. Auras clashed. So many presences that it was hard to tell one from the other, but each one as strong and stubborn on its own. The only thing that drowned them all out was the twin Auras of black and red coming from the head table at the far end of the room. Rajiah wasn’t even sure how the lesser shifters could stand to be in the room full of dragons without being forced to their knees by the sheer weight of the energy.

  As Rajiah was finding out, there were benefits and drawbacks to being related to both Lyphnia Scarlet and the Great Mother. He was given a seat at the head table, raised above the rest on a dais at the back of the hall during group meals. Seated next to Lyphnia, he was separated from the main herd of dragons at the tables below. This was a benefit. It looked like chaos down there, and as an unmated omega with a well-known lineage and somewhat of a mystery to dragon kin due to his lack of previous interaction with them, he was a novelty that wouldn’t go unnoticed. Being separated from the crowd meant he didn’t have to worry about people approaching him while he ate or swarming him in an attempt to vie for his attention.

  The drawback, however, was that he was now easily on display. It was hard to dissolve into the background like he usually did when he was set up on a near literal pedestal next to the dragon queen herself. They might not look alike, but he was willing to bet every dragon in the room knew exactly who and what he was.

  He did his best to shrink in his seat, to let the more boisterous personalities around him take center stage. Still, he felt eyes on him. He caught the glances of curious men and envious women. He ignored them all, but he knew that as soon as the safety of the table was removed and he was out from under Lyphnia’s intimidating presence, he would be swarmed just as he feared.

  He wasn’t sure if Lyphnia was the source of it, or if everyone had just assumed, but word of his free status had spread like wildfire. He heard it in whispers, he saw it in the way people stared, in the way they stopped talking as he passed, felt it in the lustful and greedy stares of Alphas.

  He was regretting ever giving into his mother’s summons.

  He spent his time eating as quickly as possible, ignoring the looks sent his way, caught between making awkward, idle conversation with Lyphnia (who was alternating between sending snide remarks toward Arulean and ignoring him altogether) and an entirely uncomfortable conversation with the Alpha placed on his other side (a man who was apparently a battle-worn general during the Purge, of a well-known lineage, father of many, and currently without a mate, as he was eager to slip into conversation time and time again).

  Once the feast started to die down, people started mingling more. They drifted out to the courtyard and to the emptier halls set up with dessert and drink tables along the side, allowing for an open floor plan for congregating and socializing. Rajiah waited until Lyphnia excused herself from the table before slipping away himself.

  The general beside him, whose name he never bothered to learn, was vying for his attention, but he excused himself with a small smile, saying he had to relieve himself before rejoining the festivities. The man smiled at that, winking and saying he’d be waiting. Rajiah’s smile fell as soon as he turned around. He hurried out the back entrance behind the high table to avoid passing by any other dragons who wanted his attention. The back hall was mostly empty, with just servants hurrying to and fro. Rajiah smiled at a few of them, but mostly kept his head down and his eyes averted.

  As soon as no one was around, he slipped up the lesser-used staircase toward the back of the castle. It didn’t take long for the noise to be left behind. The castle was big, and built sturdily. Sounds echoed along its cavernous halls. Rajiah put enough space between him and the great hall that the sounds became little more than white noise in the distance.

  He was sure some would notice his absence, but he didn’t quite care. He didn’t think anyone would come looking for him, and if they did, they wouldn’t be able to find him. If anything, they would assume he was lost somewhere in the crowd and continue to search for him there. But with so many dragons in one area, it was near impossible to pinpoint anyone by scent or aura, save for Arulean and Lyphnia. His sister might be bothered by his absence, and he’d probably receive a stern talk on the morrow about socializing with his own people in order to choose a mate, but she had other dragons to talk to and he knew she wouldn’t leave to find him.

  He wandered the corridors on the upper levels. With the dragons at the feast and most of the servants helping down there as well, the rest of the castle was abandoned. It should have given him an eerie feeling, but he was oddly comfortable, liking the thrill of adventure and exploring a place that could never fully be explored. When he was younger and newly presented, he’d spent most of his time wandering the halls and avoiding socializing as his family insisted. He learned how to hide in all the nooks and crannies then. The castle had plenty.

  It was a place full of surprises, and that was what kept the mystery and wonder alive.

  He ran his hands along the walls, ghosting them over tab
les and door frames. He had no destination in mind, and he wasn’t surprised when his feet led him to the library. It had often been his favorite place to hide when he was last here. So few people frequented the library, but it held a treasure trove of knowledge just begging to be read.

  He pushed a door open, slipping inside before letting it close behind him. He then took a moment to lean back against the large oak doors and simply gape. While the size of the room hadn’t changed, the contents of the room had damn near tripled. The collection hadn’t been small to begin with, but now the floor-to-ceiling shelves were stuffed to the brim, cubbies with scrolls over flowing, tables with stacked books and scrolls littering the tops. He walked through the room slowly, weaving through bookshelves and reverently letting his fingers caress the bindings. Binding was still a relatively new phenomenon, and expensive, too, but Arulean had spared no expense in stocking his library.

  Rajiah stepped up to a stand on which a heavy volume lay open, and idly flipped through the pages. It was in the language of the ancients, a language of old dragon tongue that was slowly fading through the centuries. From what he could tell by skimming, the book was a history of their kind, documented and no doubt copied from century-old scrolls.

  The library was built with thick walls to block out most of the sound from the castle, with thick doors to muffle the noise from the hallway. Which is how he found himself with little warning as voices suddenly became apparent.

  Voices, footsteps, slowly getting louder. His head snapped up, and he immediately reached out with his mind and senses to ascertain who it was. He noticed Arulean’s presence immediately. It was hard not to. The man was one of the two auras that functioned as practical beacons around the castle. He was speaking with someone in hushed tones, the subject of their conversation lost through the wall. But they were definitely getting louder.

  Without giving it much thought, he ducked further into the library, hiding himself among the shelves and beneath one of the desks to obscure him from view. Out of habit, he touched his wrists and his neck, making sure he still wore his scent-dimming jewelry. He also dimmed his own aura, making it as meek and unnoticeable as possible. The years spent traveling on his own had taught him how to make himself disappear. He couldn’t make everything go away completely, but he knew how to make his own presence so subtle that it often went overlooked.