by Donna Grant
Ireland
For every hour that Balladyn was away from Rhi, he felt as if a millennia passed. Taraeth kept Balladyn by his side, as if the king of the Dark knew Balladyn wanted to leave.
“You’ve had something on your mind,” Taraeth said as they walked side by side down the wide corridor from the king’s throne room to Taraeth’s private sanctuary.
They turned the corner and Balladyn saw into one of the many vast rooms where the Dark congregated. He spied Mikkel and the female Dark sent by Taraeth to spy on him. “I’ve told you my thoughts on your alliance with both Mikkel and Ulrik.”
“You don’t think I can handle the situation?”
Balladyn clenched his jaw when he heard Taraeth’s voice dip deep in aggravation. It was time for Balladyn to do damage control. “Never, sire. We’re dealing with two Dragon Kings, both of who want Con’s position.”
Taraeth halted, the guards following instantly fanning out to give him room. He took a step closer to Balladyn. “Mikkel was a Dragon King for only a few minutes.”
“With Ulrik’s magic bound, hasn’t he been the King of the Silvers the entire time though?”
“Mikkel sure thought so,” Taraeth said with a smile. “But I’ve recently come across some information.”
Balladyn wasn’t fooled. He knew exactly who that information came from. “Ulrik actually shared such knowledge with you?”
“I can be very charming.” Taraeth’s red eyes crinkled in the corners as he smiled. “Truth be told, I think Ulrik has about had enough of the leash Mikkel keeps tightening.”
“Ulrik would’ve never told you anything he didn’t want to get back to his uncle.”
Taraeth absently rubbed the nub of his left arm. “What Ulrik told me anyone could figure out if they but took a moment. Mikkel is too power hungry to even contemplate the fact that he might be in over his head.”
Balladyn studied his king. “So you’re going to side with Ulrik?”
“I didn’t say that. Now, if Ulrik had all of his magic back, perhaps.”
What if he did? Balladyn thought about how easily Ulrik had snuck up on him. No Fae could do that. The Dragon Kings had been able to do that on a few occasions.
Which meant that in order for Ulrik to perform such a feat, he had all his magic back. Taraeth and Mikkel didn’t know. Ulrik was keeping his secrets close, which was the only way he would come out ahead in the end.
But why lie? Why not tell—or better yet, show—Mikkel that he was back in charge? Because if Ulrik had his magic returned, he could speak to his Silvers locked on Dreagan. And if he could wake his Silvers, then he could start the war with the mortals once more.
Balladyn was more curious than ever as to what Ulrik’s plans were. Though Taraeth might not be willing to pick a side, Balladyn already had. Ulrik’s.
He gave a shrug to Taraeth. “You’ve still not told me what Ulrik shared.”
“Hungry for information to use against our enemies?” Taraeth asked with a laugh.
“The more knowledge we have, the better.”
Taraeth looked him up and down before he began walking again. Balladyn fell into step beside him as the guards surrounded them. He waited for Taraeth to speak, but they continued in silence.
It wasn’t until they were in Taraeth’s private chambers with guards posted outside that he sat on the red velvet sofa and motioned for Balladyn to take the other.
“I wish we would’ve been here when the Kings were at war with the humans,” Taraeth began. “We would’ve been able to see firsthand what happened with Ulrik.”
Balladyn rested both arms on the back of the sofa and stretched out his legs, his ankles crossed. “We know what happened.”
“We know the story. Mikkel doesn’t even know all of it. He wasn’t there to witness everything. He saw Con and the other Kings bind Ulrik’s magic. That’s how Mikkel became a Dragon King. The power of the King reverted to the next strongest Silver.”
Balladyn nodded. “The Kings already had four of the largest and most loyal of Ulrik’s Silvers put into sleep and caged on Dreagan.”
“Exactly,” Taraeth said with a smile.
Balladyn chuckled then. “Con made sure that even if the Silvers woke, none of them would be able to become a Dragon King.”
“Which is why Mikkel was only a King for a short time. He desired to be King long before Ulrik took over from his father. Mikkel thought it should’ve been him from the beginning. He’s always hated Ulrik for being stronger and more powerful. Mikkel believes he has Ulrik at a disadvantage, and as long as that’s in place, Mikkel will use it to his advantage.”
“What happens when Ulrik gets all of his magic back?”
Taraeth shrugged. “Mikkel says he has a plan in place. Once Ulrik kills Con, then Mikkel will kill him. As soon as Ulrik has all of his magic unbound, he’ll once more be King of the Silvers. Nothing will be able to stop that. Nor will Con be able to bind Ulrik’s magic again.”
Balladyn inwardly smiled at Ulrik’s cunning to make everyone believe his magic wasn’t fully unbound.
Balladyn wanted to test his theory. Taraeth could hide a lot of things, but if he had a secret he believed no one else was aware of, he liked to gloat about it.
“What if Ulrik’s magic is unbound? What if he’s faking it?”
Taraeth laughed loudly. “Look at Ulrik, Balladyn. He was King of the Silvers for thousands of years. Do you really believe he’d sit by and continue to allow Mikkel to use him if he had his magic? More than that, do you really believe Ulrik wouldn’t attack Con right away?”
“He’s waited thousands of years for his retribution. I think he’s planned it down to the last detail.”
“Without a doubt. It’s going to be a glorious war, and we have front row seats.”
It was Taraeth’s certainty that he would remain king of the Dark, as well as his conviction that he didn’t have to choose between Ulrik and Mikkel that told Balladyn it was nearly his time to take over.
An image of Rhi flashed in his mind.
His hands clenched as he recalled how he’d held her body against his, caressing and stroking. Her cries of pleasure still echoed in his mind. Just as he would never forget how it felt to slide inside her.
He wanted her as his queen. Rhi would be an amazing queen. But she would never turn Dark.
And he was Dark.
Balladyn blinked, focusing on Taraeth’s face that was inches from his as he snapped his fingers next to Balladyn’s ear. He held back his natural reflex to knock Taraeth away.
“What’s wrong with you?” Taraeth asked with a sneer. “I’ve been talking to you, but you wouldn’t answer.”
Balladyn held himself still until Taraeth straightened and returned to the opposite sofa. Only then did he respond. “I was thinking about the upcoming battle with Ulrik and Con.”
“Oh, yes. I know how much you hate the Dragon Kings.”
Apparently not all of them. Balladyn was beginning to like Ulrik. “I want to be there to watch it unfold.”
“You will be,” Taraeth assured him.
By that time, Balladyn fully intended to be king of the Darks. The entire force of Dark Fae would be at the disposal of one entity—him.
It would be at his leisure to choose if they aided Ulrik or not. And knowing Ulrik, the Dragon King wouldn’t need anyone’s help.
As for Mikkel … that was another matter entirely.
“You still have Sinny spying on Mikkel?”
Taraeth nodded absently as he eyed a mortal who was being carried into the chamber. Her red hair was long and bright, just as Taraeth liked it.
She was young, her body lithe and supple as she lay naked in the arms of one of Taraeth’s guards. He motioned to the guard to take the human to his bed in the next room.
“Sinny will continue to spy on Mikkel just as her sister, Muriel, is spying on Ulrik.” Taraeth stood with an excited smile as he faced his bedroom. “We’ll finish this later. It’s time for my snack.”
B
alladyn rose to his feet and walked out with the loud moans of the female following him. He strode down the hallway thinking of all the mortals he’d taken after he became Dark. There were so many he couldn’t recall all of them.
Rhi wouldn’t approve.
He made his way to a doorway and immediately went to Rhi’s island. He needed to have her arms around him, to know that she was his.
But the island was deserted.
Balladyn stood in the sun with the water a few feet away. It was the spot where he had made love to Rhi. He removed his clothes and walked into the water.
The sun, the bright flowers, the beautiful water, they were all things a Light Fae needed. He didn’t need them anymore, but yet there he was.
Balladyn dove under the water trying to imagine what Rhi saw as she swam with the brightly colored fish and coral. He could imagine her smiling as the fish darted around her.
It wasn’t until he walked out of the water an hour later that Balladyn realized how long he’d remained at the island. He halted at the shore, his chest tightening.
He enjoyed it. All of it. The sand, the water, the fish. The sun.
His gaze landed on the hammock, and for just a moment, he contemplated remaining. Then he remembered his plans. He had a throne to claim and a king to kill.
Balladyn scrunched his toes, the wet sand sinking between them, clinging to his skin as the water rolled in and out. The wind glided across his damp skin and caused the palm trees to sway, their fronds rubbing against each other.
It was so peaceful. No wonder Rhi had chosen it. It was secluded as well, which suited her. More and more she was pulling away from everyone.
It seemed both of them were in the midst of change. Though Balladyn now knew that Rhi would fight the darkness inside her with everything that she was.
She didn’t even know that yet. It made him smile, because it proved how strong she was. Not just her magic, but her character, her spirit.
Her essence.
She feared the darkness was taking over when in fact her light was drowning the darkness. The darkness clung to her, trying to sway Rhi and tempt her. A few times it even came close.
But each time her light killed it.
How could he have ever imagined that he could turn her Dark? Even in the thrall of rage and revenge, he should’ve seen the sheer might of her.
Instead, he’d been blinded by the darkness within him. The one person in all the realms he’d never wanted to hurt, he had done just that. And she forgave him.
She was the very best of the Fae. How did no one else see that?
Balladyn snapped his fingers as he walked out of the water. His clothes and shoes were back on, and all traces of his time in the water were gone.
He teleported to Cork and an Doras. As soon as he walked into the pub, a hush fell over the crowd of Fae. It was a Dark Fae holding, but the occasional Light would make an appearance.
Balladyn walked to an empty stool and sat at the bar. The barkeep walked up with a glass of whisky in hand. As soon as he set the glass down, Balladyn’s hand wrapped around his wrist.
Wide red eyes looked at Balladyn. “I’ve paid my rent and taxes.”
“I don’t take care of such things.” The male began to tremble in Balladyn’s hold. “I want information.”
“Wh-what kind?” the Dark stuttered.
“Tell me all you’ve heard of the Reapers recently.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Ryder was attuned to every sound, every movement that Kinsey made. He found it nearly impossible to focus on anything except her.
With his mind constantly bombarded with questions from the other Dragon Kings, he found himself ignoring their verbal calls on occasion.
The hours crawled by until lunch. Kinsey didn’t so much as look his way again as she went about her work. Ryder attempted to come up with reasons to ask her questions, but it didn’t take long for her to realize what he was doing.
As soon as Dmitri walked into the computer room, Ryder jumped up from his chair. “I’ll be back,” he told Dmitri.
Ryder ignored his name being called as he lengthened his strides. He hurried down the three flights of stairs and bumped into Arian as he made his way to the hidden doorway from the manor that connected to the mountain.
Once Ryder was in the mountain, he kept walking. He didn’t know where he was going. Only that he had to put some distance between him and Kinsey so he could get himself under control.
Ryder soon found himself standing in the large cavern staring at the black bars of the massive cage that held the four sleeping Silver dragons.
The cavern had only a few torches scattered around the perimeter. A ball of magic swirled above the cage, casting a faint white light over the dragons.
Ryder walked to the cage and placed his hand upon the dragon nearest him. These weren’t his dragons, but they were dragons. Right now he needed to remember who he was.
Because every moment he couldn’t have Kinsey was tearing him apart.
He hadn’t realized how much he hungered, craved her until she was within arm’s reach. She was closer than she had been in years, but yet she was further away than ever before.
Ryder rested his forehead on the bars and focused on the dragons’ breathing. These were the last four dragons on the realm. Every time he came to see them, it made Ryder sad. They should be flying, their wings outstretched and the sun upon their scales.
He closed his eyes and thought back to his Greys. How he loved to rub their single horn that projected above their noses. They had made a sound at the back of their throats that rumbled in their chests, which sounded very much like a purr.
Ryder smiled at the memory. His dragons always brought him comfort, even when it was just a memory of them. There was only one other thing that could do that to him—Kinsey.
His smile vanished. Kinsey. What a fool he’d been to take for granted the time they shared. How easily she once walked into his arms, lifting her face for a kiss.
How they had laughed and talked, walking arm in arm down the street.
What Ryder wouldn’t do to have that time back. He told Dmitri last night he was willing to fight for Kinsey. Sleeping beside her had only solidified his decision.
But the longer she was around him, the more distant she became.
Ryder petted the Silver as he wondered what prompted Kinsey to act as she did. When she first arrived at Dreagan she was shocked and angered to find him there. Now, she appeared as indifferent to him as she was to everything else.
His hand paused and his eyes flew open. Indifferent? Kinsey wasn’t indifferent. She was afraid. What she was doing was attempting to erect a wall between them that would keep Ryder out forever.
The only problem with that was that Kinsey had no idea how determined a Dragon King could be.
Ryder made his way to each of the Silvers and petted them while he began to decide how to bust through Kinsey’s wall. She had to still feel something for him. Why else would there have been such anger the day before?
Touching the Silvers helped Ryder to sort his way through his thoughts, but he wished he could shift and take to the skies. He needed to fly.
To dive through clouds, turning over and over again, wrapping the clouds around him. There was something beautiful and amazing about looking down at the earth through his dragon eyes.
Hopefully they would find Ulrik soon and put a stop to this nonsense. The one thing Ryder was grateful for was that Kinsey was at Dreagan. Security—really their dragon magic—was heightened to ensure that no Dark could venture onto the land.
Unbeknownst to every human who entered Dreagan, they were being scanned by Ryder. He couldn’t tell who was working for Ulrik—yet. But every face, every voice was being logged into a database along with where the person went and how long they were at Dreagan.
The mates were watched by multiple Kings at any given time. So if Kinsey had to be anywhere, Dreagan was the best place to be. No matter who was using h
er or why, Ryder knew she would be safe.
Which allowed him to think of how he could break down her barriers and get her back in his arms again.
* * *
Ulrik stood in the shadows of the cavern until Ryder walked out, his boots making a slight echo on the stones. Ulrik slid his gaze to his Silvers. He counted five Kings who came to see his Silvers in the last two hours.
All this time he’d thought his dragons were the ones trapped, but he was beginning to see that the Kings were as well. They needed his Silvers, whether they knew it or not.
Did the Kings even realize how often they visited his dragons? How many times they touched the scales, caressing them? Some simply stood in the cavern staring at the Silvers.
Ulrik didn’t need magic to know those Kings were thinking of their own dragons. Up until he was able to get part of his dragon magic back, Ulrik had gone mad several times over wondering about his dragons.
The first time he snuck onto Dreagan, he spent an entire day with his Silvers without a single King knowing about it. It almost killed Ulrik to leave them, but each day drew him closer to the time he could awaken them and rid the world of the humans.
Ulrik came as often as he dared to Dreagan. It amused him how many times he stood near Con in the shadows of the cavern. The almighty Con hadn’t even been aware his enemy could’ve killed him a hundred times over.
That had tempted Ulrik on several occasions. To end Con and take over as King of Kings. Everything he’d dreamed of and worked toward could come to fruition.
There had even been one instance when Ulrik nearly gave in to that desire and killed Con while he looked upon the Silvers. Being stabbed in the back was just what Con deserved after all he’d done to Ulrik.
But that wasn’t who Ulrik was. He wanted Con to know he attacked him. He needed Con to know that he was going to lose—and die.
Only then would Ulrik get his satisfaction and his vengeance. Only then would he be able to face the future without the cloud of anger and resentment weighing him down.
When he was King of Kings, Ulrik would remove every last human from the realm and then he would return the dragons. He smiled as he thought of the Fae. With the mortals gone, the Fae would have no reason to remain.
