Fated Hope

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Fated Hope Page 3

by Sariah Skye


  I narrowed my eyes at him. “Haha. Rub it in…”

  Maxxus laughed, as he closed the distance between us. He leaned over to grasp my hands and pull me upwards into him. “No, I wasn’t trying to make you feel bad. I was hoping that I’d impress you. Impress you enough to want to kiss me.”

  “By hanging a poster?” I looked at him in disbelief.

  He snorted. “What can I say? I was very young, I had no swagger. I think I eventually did better though, huh?” The heat in his eyes was unmistakable, as he gently grazed the pad of his thumb over my cheek, back to my hair line. The touch was soft, easy, and entirely taunting.

  “What are you doing?” I trilled teasingly.

  “Nothing. Just a little dirt.” He pulled his hand away from my face, revealing his dust-covered thumbprint.

  I stuck my lower lip out in a pout. “Evil tempter.”

  He grinned widely. “You haven’t seen anything yet.” Maxxus trailed his fingers up my arm. It sent tingles down my spine and warmed my core. I tried hard to keep my eyes open, but melted into his touch, as he reached the neck of my t-shirt, and carefully pulled it aside, replacing his hand with his lips.

  I sighed dreamily, as he lightly kissed upwards to my neck, stopping to linger at the soft spot behind my ear. I tensed, as heat pooled in my core. I wanted nothing more than to allow him to take me, right then and there, but as I ran a hand over my tattered quilt, I quickly remembered where we were.

  “Maxx?”

  “Mmm…” he said, almost a moan as his hands trailed down my back, dangerously close to my ass.

  “Maxx!” My eyes widened and I pushed him away.

  Looking startled, and a little wounded, he frowned. “What’s wrong? I’m sorry, do you not—”

  I lifted a hand, to cut him off, taking a few deep breaths to quell the intensity that was beginning to build inside. “Of course I do. But—here? My mother is here?”

  Maxxus snorted. “Your mother? Leo, we’re dragons. She expects this. We aren’t shy about this stuff!”

  I glared, smacking him lightly on the chest. “I lived with humans, remember? I am shy about it.” I grabbed for a pillow nearby, and tossed it at him. “Chill. Out. I’m going to take a shower.”

  I giggled as I left Maxxus, pouting, carefully setting himself down in the chair, pressing the pillow to his lower half. I could swear I saw the eyes bug out of his head as he let out a groan. I snickered, figuring I probably should have let him take a shower—a cold shower—first.

  We were summoned to the castle later that evening, for Valessia’s big announcement. Anxiety was high, and nerves frayed, not just because of the lingering Shadow presence in the castle.

  Maxxus and I walked in the throne room, hand in hand. Maxxus wore his Court robes, in green, and walked with a proud look upon his handsome face. However, I was less than confident in my pink robes, with the cowl pulled over my head to hide my face from the jeers and sneers amongst the remaining Courtmembers as we took seats at the edge of the audience, near my parents.

  Several dragons roared with anger.

  “What is that doing there?” A male demanded angrily. I couldn’t see his face, and I didn’t need my magic to tell he was majorly ticked.

  “There’s no place for pink dragons in the Court!” A female shouted.

  “Or Anarach!” This voice was familiar.

  Maxxus grumbled next to me. “Kreegan,” he said, under his breath.

  I trembled in my seat, attempting to breathe deeply as everyone shouted around me.

  My grandfather, standing atop the dais in the center of the large room, rapped with a tall staff on the wooden floor. “Silence! Lady Leorah is here as a guest of the queen! You dare defy the queen? She is also the legitimate mate of Baron Maxxus, another fellow member of the Court. You recall, all charges against her and her friends were dropped. She is welcome at these proceedings!” I barely glanced up, under the hood of my robes, to see my grandfather, red-faced and furious. His green eyes were on fire, as he stared down the rowdy Court.

  Everyone reluctantly quieted down.

  Maxxus squeezed my hand tightly. “It’ll be okay, Leorah.” He lifted my hand, bringing to his lips, kissing my knuckles tenderly. I smiled at him from behind my hood, but didn’t let go of his hand.

  Valessia, looking regal, slowly stood as my grandfather stepped back. Her hair was piled high atop her head in an intricate, braided knot, accentuating her ethereal face. I don’t think, as queen, I could ever look as regal and stunning as Queen Valessia did now, no matter how long I stood on the throne. She was beautiful in her simple makeup, glowing gold tiara, and long, flowing blue robes.

  “I have called you here tonight for a couple of reasons. One, to publicly apologize for the treatment of Leorah, and all pink dragons by the monarchy and thus, society over the years,” Valessia’s voice was honest, but firm as she spoke. “This applies to past, present, and future pink dragons.”

  There was a bewildered murmur across the room. Before anyone could speak, she raised her hands, indicating silence, as she was about to continue.

  “It is unreasonable to blame the future actions of a newborn based on archaic knowledge of one drake that happened to tarnish the breed for everyone else! I call for the immediate end to the terrible treatment of the pink dragons—existing and future—and I call upon you, the residents of Anarach, members of this Court to spread the message! Peace for all pink dragons! No longer shall they be our enemies, but our friends!”

  They all murmured at Valessia's announcement. Most of them appeared indifferent; the dragons at the battle nodded in approval. Maxxus nudged me, and mouthed “A good sign,” as he pointed them out.

  A couple—Shazandre and Kreegan included—scowled and wore obvious expressions of dismay. But that was nothing compared to the reaction to the next announcement.

  Valessia narrowed her eyes at them as they grumbled to themselves. “May I continue?”

  The gray and brown dragon sunk in their seats under her penetrating glare, and nodded with shame, like little school children.

  She coughed lightly before looking away, moving on.

  “As you know, of course, my beloved mate—King Athalos—was deceased in the battle with the Shadows from the Shadow realm.” She turned her head down at this moment and remained silent in reverence. Maxxus and I followed her action as well as everyone in the throne room.

  The Queen rose her head after a moment. She remained composed, but I could hear her voice shake very slightly. “He was a venerable ruler and a fantastic husband. I will miss him dearly. I did not always agree with him, but I believe he did the best he could.” She paused, catching my eye across the room; I knew what she was thinking, remembering the pink drake she herself had to give up, because of prejudice and fear. I knew she had a hard time forgiving Athalos for that decision, but based on how everyone was raised over the years, she tried not to blame him; a victim of circumstance. “As did I.”

  Another pause before she spoke again. My breath had stuck in my chest just then in anticipation of what she was going to say next.

  “All this being said, with the threat to the Court and my own mental state hindered by the Shadows and sadness of my loss—our loss—it is with a heavy heart I announce I will be abdicating my own rule.”

  This was met with silence. It wasn't surprising, of course. But the next part was. I watched as a couple of dragons in the seats—a yellow and red dragon—male and female respectably sat up a little straighter, anticipating her announcement. I had to smirk to myself a little. They thought it would be them for some reason! I wanted to laugh out loud but kept my mouth shut. For once.

  “In this time of distress, where an election cannot be held, before stepping down it is my duty to name my successors. I will remain on as Advisor and Duchess for a time while they transition into their own rule, which I have much faith they will not only help restore the Kingdom to its former glory but, protect it against the Shadows.” She took a deep b
reath and held her head high before announcing.

  “I, Queen Valessia en'a Ilianthe, name Maxxus te'o Jalenn and Leorah en'a Miradoste as my successors.”

  That’s when all hell broke loose.

  The yellow and red dragon that had assumed it'd be them jumped to their feet, angrily shouting. Several more started calling out “Traitor!” and “Disgrace!” as well as only a dozen other threats.

  I exchanged a look with Maxxus. He reached out his hand and I put mine in his for solidarity, and he lightly pulled me to my feet as he stared down the contingency of angry dragon shifters. “Don't let their words get to you.”

  I inhaled deeply, puffing out my chest and looking down my nose at the stands the naysayers.

  “Silence!” my grandfather had gotten to his feet and commanded. Everyone promptly quieted. My grandfather never raised his voice and when an Elder commanded attention—you listened. “Do you all realize that none of you would be here right now if it weren't for my granddaughter, my protégé and their friends? They risked everything for you—only to have you speak this way about them! After your treatment of them—my granddaughter especially—they still risked it all! They will make fantastic rulers, and they have my full support! I dare any of you to stand against me!” he roared, slamming his fist down on to the stone seat next to him. I heard a slight crack as his hand met stone, but he didn't even wince. I was still angry at him for the love spell—the genetic magic enhancement I could forgive but the love spell was just too much. I felt violated and I know it was hurting Gabriel; but I appreciated his standing up for us in front of the Court nonetheless.

  He glared at them severely—everyone except my friends and family and they all slowly sat down. They didn't appear happy, but they did shut up.

  My grandfather, the Elder, crossed his arms back over his silver robes and nodded towards the Queen before taking his own seat. She gave him a slight nod before continuing in her speech.

  Valessia gave him an appreciative look before speaking again. “Thank you, Elder, for that reminder. Given everything that she has gone through, Milady Leorah has literally no reason to have been here, battling for us. Over the past few days, with conversations from her parents, and the elder, I have learned just what a torturous existence she has had. I cannot make up for her past treatment, but I can assure that it will not happen again. I expect them to be treated with the same respect as was given to Athalos and I. More so, actually.”

  “This is a conspiracy!” A black dragon was on his feet, yelling with fierce dismay. “She has gotten to you too.”

  Valessia ignored the comment, as he was led out of the room by a Guard. “The coronation will take place in three days’ time. It will be a small event, but all of you, and those who are well, will be required to attend. That is all for today.”

  My stomach flip flopped anxiously as everyone filed out, leaving only my parents, Braeden and Kiarra, my grandfather and Valessia.

  My father, who sat on the other side of Maxxus, sniffled gently.

  “Earl, what is it?” Maxxus asked carefully.

  Saladin—my father—was still Shadow touched. I wanted to heal him, but he refused, claiming I should save my energy for the much worse-off residents of Castle Danger. He struggled with depression, but his green eyes sparkled, with proud tears. He turned to my mother and spoke, with reverent awe:

  “Mira…our daughter is going to be Queen.”

  My eyes widened.

  By this time tomorrow, Maxxus would be king, and I’d be queen.

  I choked down a lump that swelled in my throat.

  Shit.

  Chapter 3

  Three days had passed since Valessia’s announcement; it was Coronation Day.

  Three days of assisting various Mythos as they transitioned into the makeshift refugee village. Three days of hard work, getting people settled, and searching the ruins of Castle Danger for anyone still remaining. And three nights of being so unbelievably tired after all the hard work that when Maxxus and I arrived back to my family’s packed home, I promptly collapsed into bed, much to his frustration. I was adamant about not having sexy time in my parents’ house, with my family present and a handful of others. We were less than thrilled about it, but it made me too insecure.

  It’d been years since we were together…in that way. I didn’t want it rushed, or awkward.

  Truth be told, as much as I wanted to be with him, I was still nervous about it.

  “Tell me,” I said, placing the large, golden crown on top of my head, as I eyed my reflection in the mirror. I made a squished expression at myself, then puckered my lips like a duck as if I were taking a “selfie”. “Does this crown make me look fat?”

  Maxxus roared with laughter at my joke as he crossed the room and stood behind me, adjusting his own golden crown atop his head and placing his hands gently on my shoulders. He examined his own reflection, then mine and continued to stare, expressionless and regal. He pursed his lips together in a sour face, accentuating his high cheekbones. I matched his seriousness and stood there emotionless and took in our appearances.

  I stood there wearing a heavy, corseted red gown (the closest that could be found to pink) that attempted to cinch my waist in daintily but failed. I'd insisted I would wear a yoga leotard before wearing a corset that cut off my circulation. The bodice formed a 'v' shape at my waist and below it dropped a waterfall of heavy, crimson skirts, gathering in the back with a large bustle. A very regal, royal appearing gown that totally swallowed the white, crystal-clad pump high heeled shoes I wore on my feet. I was not a heel wearer, but the queen insisted it was proper dress for a Coronation so I begrudgingly relented.

  A fur trimmed white cloak, fastened with a ruby broach at my throat trailed down my back and down to the floor. My eyes were rimmed with an appropriate amount of black eyeliner and gold shadow, rose-blushed cheeks and ruby red lipstick. The craziest part was the actual crown on my head. It was the official royal crown, worn by all the Queens during official diplomatic events and pictured in every portrait painted in the palace. It was gold, round and tapered outward in bent points about two inches over my head, with the tallest point in front not bent at all but standing fully upright with a big, bright diamond in the front. It was tacky, heavy as hell, and there was not one attractive thing about it at all.

  “Okay, you know what? As my first decree as Queen, I am banishing these awful things to the Shadow realm!”

  Maxxus snickered. “They really are quite terrible and should be incinerated, at least,” he said, standing behind me, wearing the same drapey white shirt as he did when we were bonded—apparently, it was difficult finding a well-fitting shirt for the broad-shouldered green dragon. It gathered at the sleeves and had a slight v-neck that could be tied with a silk cord. A leather green vest—one of his own—covered the informality of the white shirt and was tucked into black tailored pants. He wore his own white cloak fastened with a masculine emerald broach at his throat and carried his own large, gaudy, golden crown which was a larger duplicate to mine atop his wavy ginger-hued hair. With our dour expressions, we could match the serious portraits of all the monarchs that came before us that aligned the hallways, and I about had a heart attack at the thought.

  T-minus thirty minutes to the event that will change everything. The Coronation.

  “How do you think we'll look in the portraits?” Maxxus joked, hiding his mirth behind a tight-lipped, sour face.

  “Absurd,” I said, turning my nose up and looking down. “Ugh,” I scowled at my reflection, lifting my hand, and flipping off the mirror. “I probably shouldn't do that. It isn't ladylike or dragon like or what the fuck ever. Do queens even say 'fuck'?”

  Maxxus chuckled. “You do. And, you’re a queen. So yes, queens do say ‘fuck’.”

  “I’m not a queen yet, but I do look like one. A bad one,” I said, trying to look down at my ridiculous skirts but, not quite being able to because of the weight of the crown. “Ack, I can’t even move my head b
ecause of this thing!”

  Maxxus wrinkled his nose at the reflection, and then at me. He gingerly touched the golden spires atop my head. “I have to agree. It's too bad we don't know any wonderful, green dragons who excel at metalworking to make some brand new, more appropriate ones,” he said, sauntering away casually, swooping his cloak around dramatically before spinning back towards me on his heels. He grinned widely and said, “Oh wait, we do!”

  I snorted, a trail of spittle escaping my mouth as I did so, landing on the bodice of the dress. “Oh fuck. I just drooled on myself! How's that for queenly behavior?” I was so not meant for this job.

  Maxxus laughed, stepping towards me as I intently looked down, trying to rub the wet mark off with my fingers. He put one finger under my chin and craned my gaze up towards him. At 6'4 in his human form to my 5'4—he towered over me, and I did look up to him. Literally. Even in dragon form. Which, would normally drive me nuts but, when you're looking up into those ocean-blue eyes and that magical smile, you tended to get over it. Fast. I felt my stomach flutter a little at his gaze.

  He spoke then, huskily. “Just say I did it. Like it or not—stuffy or not—you are amazingly beautiful.”

  I sighed dreamily at his words, feeling my knees go slightly slack. I caught myself before I could fall to the ground, though—with this damn metal monstrosity on my head, the chances are good no one would ever be able to get me up again. “So are you. Wait—what?” I said, confused at my words.

  Maxxus simply just grinned. “I'll take it. Human males get upset with that word. I'm a dragon, I simply just enjoy the compliment.”

  A knock sounded at the door to the queen's former bedchambers where we were currently getting ourselves ready for the Coronation, and where we'd soon be officially residing. The knocker didn't wait for our response, and Kiarra pushed open the heavy door slightly and poked her head in. “You both ready? Thirty minutes,” she warned, standing in the doorframe.

 

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