Burn (Dragon Souls)

by Fletcher, Penelope

  Choking back a roar, Koen’s lust exploded in a blistering wave that shot from his balls, twisted through his spine then blasted out with such force a piece of his soul ripped away.

  When she slumped, the spasm of her sex easing, he stopped feeling as if his very life drained through the tip of his cock.

  She brushed a kiss to his temple. “Now I remember.”

  “What?” he demanded hoarsely. His legs were weak.

  She burrowed her face into his neck. Chuckled in that secret, dark way females often did when dealing with their mates. “Just remembered why you were worth dying for.”

  He slapped her ass and grinned when she squealed. “Female, are you telling me you desire me only for my body?”

  Lifting her head, she gave him a wide-eyed look of innocence. “No.”

  “Liar.”

  Bursting into laughter, she thrashed about splashing salty water. It made it difficult for his wobbly legs to carry them to the beach without tripping.

  They sprawled on the damp sand and let the lagoon lap at their toes.

  Marina sighed ever so often, the sound one of supreme happiness that made his heart clench.

  He had done this many times alone. Laid on the beach and looked into the dawn sky, wondering if the day would hold some small joy denied him the last.

  Marina brought hope into his world. Hope his life was worth more than a Chosen’s aspirations of glory. She had loved him before she knew what and who he was. That alone made her the most precious and irreplaceable piece of Treasure known to his world.

  “I lost,” she said glumly. “After all that I lost.” She squinted, lips puckering. “How embarrassing.”

  “It does not matter.” He kissed her lush mouth. “You shall wear the Wreath.” He licked at her lips, tasted salt and his own musk. He remembered her sucking his skin. “It is done.”

  Her lashes dropped to hide her fear from him. “The Dragon Courts won’t accept this.”

  “Rest.” He kissed her more deeply, vowing never again to not touch her whenever he wished. “You have nothing to fear. I will take care of you.”

  “Boy,” she mumbled, settling more comfortably into his embrace. Her leg slid over his, her hips pressing closer to his erection before retreating. “Is he safe? He must be so worried. I need ... to find....”

  She drifted asleep, and her body became lax in his arms.

  Pillowing her head on his shoulder, Koen Raad clutched her tighter, horrible memories swirling past the haze of the last day. His stomach clenched.

  An icy chill swept over him, and he watched in horror as dawn kissed the horizon.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  Marina woke. I’m alive. Mwwwaaahhh. The thought jubilantly bounced in her mind along with the knowledge she had been named Queen of the Wyvrae by default. Sure, she hoped to actually win a crown in Aver, but she was not so conceited as to refuse the title because of it, nor did she feel lacking after Koen’s lovemaking made it crystal-clear it didn’t matter to him. She counted her blessings, and humbly accepted the post. She would be a just Queen, and make as many people as feasibly possible proud.

  The sparks of pain shooting through her body and muscle cramps knotting her limbs were totally worth it.

  All she had to do now was figure out how to make the otherness accept fighting Koen Raad in the Hunt.

  Anastasia would give her a run for her money, but the Drackai Queen’s heart was no longer in it, if it ever was.

  Niggling, the otherness tried to dredge up a memory of people shouting over her as she slept, but the full memory eluded them both. Her mind wandered, knowing she would receive a comprehensive update eventually. She’d only managed to stay awake for Jakob to whisper the bare minimum into her ear as Koen Raad carried her to bed. There had been more her Second said – something about the Mages that sounded urgent – but those condescending men and their heavy-handed threats could wait until she felt better.

  Marina lay there in a state of blissful ignorance. She was more than happy to bask in the joy of knowing the most challenging phase of her life was close to over. Yes, she had a frozen realm to oversee, but that she could handle.

  Her family was together and secure. The rest would follow naturally.

  After a while, she noted the silence in the chamber was tomblike. Shouldn’t there be people around? You know, crying, laughing, and force feeding her grapes?

  Frowning, she pushed groggily onto her elbows and looked around, disgruntled at the lack of beside visitors. Who’d I kill? She paused. Checked with the otherness she hadn’t actually killed anybody while in dragonskin.

  Marina blinked spastically at the figure folded into a seat beside her bed.

  No mate, no best friend, no oath-sworn Second, no cousin, no long lost uncle, no devoted handmaiden, but her estranged father managed to visit?

  “Mikhail?”

  The male started, and jumped onto his feet. He stared at her, mouth hanging then roughly rubbed his jaw. “Finally, you wake. It is nearly dusk.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. Next time I almost die, I’ll be sure to wake promptly at sunrise.”

  “That would be agreeable.”

  Marina pounded her pillow with her fist. Snootily said, “I’d like you to go away now,” over her shoulder as she lay down and gave him her back.

  “I must tell you a number of truths you must accept with poise and grace befitting your elevated station.”

  Marina stiffened. Grated, “I have a Second.”

  “Jakob is unavailable, and so is Sevastyan,” he said when she twisted, her mouth opening, “so the task falls to me.”

  “Where’s Koen?”

  “Busy patching the Kingdom together.”

  Suggesting it had been broken apart. Kissing her teeth, Marina sat up. Happy time was over. She eyed Mikhail then patted the blankets. “Alright then. Tell me these ‘truths’.”

  He told her.

  Marina felt her eyes popping as Mikhail outlined the extent of what happened to the Fire Kingdom in the hours after she was pronounced deceased.

  “Oh.” There was not much one could say when told she’d caused a King to go on a murderous rampage and Kingdom-wide rioting. She rubbed her throat. It felt a little tight. “Koen Raad brings a whole new meaning to the phrase completely losing your shit.” Exasperated, she slapped the covers. “Did no one try and stop him?”

  Mikhail looked at her as if she were addled. “Ah, yes, at the news of his Treasure’s demise, the Dragon King should have found solace in our platitudes then fallen to the ground in a fit of weeping.”

  “Do I look like I’m welcoming sarcasm right now?”

  “Do I look the kind to answer inane questions with rational responses?”

  “Go away.”

  His teeth ground together. “Let us not fight.”

  “Stop baiting me and we won’t.”

  “I have put up with enough disrespect from you.”

  “You want to talk about disrespect?”

  She sneered nastily then squealed when his fingers snatched her lips to keep her mouth closed.

  His dark eyes drilled into hers.

  “The depth of my sorrow the moment that female told us you were gone is unutterable. I do not ask for your liking.” He laughed deprecatingly. “We are too similar, I think, for that to be reasonable. I ask that you not shut me out. You are my offspring, and I love you. Unreservedly.”

  Stunned, Marina was engulfed in his arms and pulled against his broad chest.

  He rubbed her upper back and kissed the crown of her head. “I am proud of you.” He was back in the chair next to her bed by the time she recovered, and then she couldn’t respond because the screen slammed open.

  Cathryn barrelled into the room in a cloud of silver silk. A euphoric smile stretched across her lips so wide it looked painful.

  She burst into squeaky tears and flew to the bed.

  Regent Myron and Council Mon Issak entered, chuckling at Cathryn’s elation. Wishing Mar
ina good evening and inquiring after her health, they stood unobtrusively off to the side as more guests approached.

  A sombre Daniil strode into the chamber.

  The strained relationship between her and the blonde Dragon Lord was still in evidence as he nodded and remained at the foot of the bed instead of approaching for a hug she’d hoped would bury the bad feeling between them.

  An anxious Nikolai came rushing then pulled up short when he noted the other people present.

  Marina expected the younger Raad to fawn over her, as was his habit to aggravate Koen, but he too stopped at a distance and offered a sedate smile.

  His eyes shone with relief to see her well.

  It surprised her Sevastyan and Viktor were missing, but she figured they would be along soon, so would Boy and Koen Raad.

  Cathryn perched on the edge of the coverlet and held her hand.

  The room fell silent.

  Marina looked between them all. Many averted eyes. Hm. “You guys look like I really died. I’m here and I’m Queen. Boom baby. Where’s the celebration?”

  Cathryn smiled, squeezed her hand. “Congratulations. You kicked ass, girlfriend.”

  “Hell yes.” Marina grinned. The tension between them evaporated. “And the best is yet to come.”

  More silence.

  Huffing, Marina made a rude noise. “Is the bad air because I can turn into Dragon? Are you all freaking out? Plotting to cage me? Because that’s not cool.”

  “No,” they refuted in chorus, which was weird, because they seemed too on edge to speak uniformly.

  “Then why are you all uncomfortable?”

  “You are a miracle,” Isaak said gently. “The Dragon Council has already convened to discuss the potential impact you may have Koen’s dynasty. We have concluded as long as he remains a just leader we will not interfere in his reign.”

  “Um, why would you need to?”

  “Dragons choose when they die,” Cathryn reminded. Her eyes twinkled. “You told me that.”

  “Yeah. So?”

  “Members of the Dragon Courts brought up the question of succession,” Daniil expanded.

  She met his reserved gaze then understood. “Because usually the Emperor abdicates when his Treasure dies and a new Phoenix is born and becomes King.”

  As she was too a Dragon, she could choose when to start pushing up daises.

  Koen Raad could conceivably rule forever.

  She bet that pissed a lot of important people off.

  “The Courts are worried about this already? I haven’t even survived the Hunt yet.”

  “You came back from the grave,” Cathryn said wryly. “I am sure they think you have this cinched.”

  “True.” She kept picking up edgy vibes from them all though, so her pleasant façade showed signs of strain. “Anybody know where Boy is?”

  The tension turned ugly, suffocating.

  “I last saw him this morning,” Mikhail said slowly.

  “He was well,” Cathryn added. “Not a scratch on him even after all the fighting. He hid most of the night waiting for you to return. Viktor and Pasha are with him.”

  “Oh.” She shrugged. “Okay.” She glanced at Mikhail’s stony features. “And where did you say Jak is? Was unavailable a euphuism for getting laid?”

  Cathryn cleared her throat. Her expression was pained. “Not exactly.”

  Sensing a possessive gaze settle upon her, Marina’s eyes shot up. Her heart pounded faster, and her body hummed with pleasure. Her arms lifted, aching to hold her mate.

  Koen Raad’s large body hovered in the doorway.

  Marina tried to see behind him, searching for Boy. Obviously dismissing the youngling’s absence, she opened her arms and waited for him to come to her.

  Her smile died when she noticed the hunted look marring his expression. Her arms lowered, eyes misting in confusion at his reticence.

  “Leave us.” The quiet command was at once obeyed.

  His Treasure hugged her human friend and returned nods from Daniil and Nikolai, preened under gentle pats of affection from Myron and Isaak. Mikhail simply smiled his goodbye, and escorted a reluctant Cathryn out.

  The door slid closed.

  “Koen?” Her voice was small, her body braced against the mound of pillows at her back. “I’m getting the feeling something big has happened and no one wants to be the one to deliver the bad news. Whatever is wrong tell me so I can deal.”

  She looked achingly fragile, but she had the heart of a warrior, the soul of a Dragon.

  She was magnificent.

  His.

  He had failed her.

  “I love you.”

  Head tilting, her face softened. Her eyes welled. “Do you know that’s the first time you’ve said those words?” She laughed, utterly joyful. The heel of her palm rubbed circles over her heart. “I never knew how amazing it would be to hear them.”

  “When Anastasia told me you died,” he said deeply, quietly, “I was not myself.”

  “I know about the rioting.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “The killing.” Compassion and understanding flowed from her. “It’s alright. I get it. The otherness inside me was hungry for blood when it thought you were in danger. I can’t imagine what would happen if you died and I was left to pick up the pieces.” She slid her hand along the blankets, reaching for him, offering comfort. “But you managed to hold it together. Everyone we love is alive, and safe. Yes, people suffered, but we will strive to make it up to them. Together we will rebuild what was broken. The people will be proud to know we’re worthy of the faith they put in us.”

  “Boy–”

  “Is probably freaking out I know.” Her grin was lopsided. “Cathryn told me he’s with Viktor. Those two will make great friends, I think.” She murmured this delightedly. “Pasha will keep them out of trouble until I’m up and about tomorrow.”

  He met her loving gaze and knew – just knew – he would never have her forgiveness. “Ryuk is no longer here at the Citadel. The Eldernmoot took him home.”

  At first she giggled, shaking her head slowly, as if the words coming out of his mouth were incomprehensible or garbled. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that right. I’m exhausted.” She pinched the bridge of her nose and tiredly shifted in her blankets. “I thought you just said the Eldernmoot took Boy home.”

  “His name is not Boy. It never was. His name is Ryuk. He was – is – the son and heir of the murdered Grand Mage. His supposed ‘death’ was a plot conspired by his uncle as a bid for power. The Eldermen sought me out during the riots and offered to reaffirm our treaty of peace if we returned the rightful heir of the Clans to them.”

  Marina stared. It was like he spoke a foreign tongue. Stomach clenching, her lips parted with a silent gasp, because somehow air had been sucked out of the world.

  Hurrying to hold her, Koen ran his hands down her arms, rubbed her back. “Treasure?”

  “Don’t.” She brushed his hands away then held up her own, unsheathed blades either side of her head. A warning. “Don’t touch me. Tell me where my son is.”

  Koen tried to meet her roving eyes, tried to hold her chin but she shied away. “I need you to understand. I need you to not hate me.” His voice roughed. “I just need you.”

  “No, no, no.” Marina kept shaking her head, the movement becoming wilder. Her heart pounded too fast against her breastbone. She scrubbed at the area with the heel of her palm, achingly aware the last time she made the gesture her heart had been bursting with happiness. Each thump pushed arcs of pain throughout her system. “You wouldn’t. My mind is not right, and I’m hearing you wrong, because you would never do that. Not to me.” Tears spilled down her cheeks. “You wouldn’t hand over our child to the people who enslaved him. That’s crazy people talk.” She thumped her chest so hard he started. “My child. You wouldn’t pass over my child like a sac of grain.”

  “There was a threat of war, Marina. I had to.”

  “Was?”

  �
��I had a duty. When they told me you were gone, I lost touch with reality. Everything fractured.”

  “That wouldn’t have been his fault.”

  “I used the opportunity to make it right. It was my responsibility as a Phoenix, as Dragon King, to accept the diplomatic resolution proposed by the Eldernmoot.”

  “No.” She cut a hand through the air. “I don’t want to hear any of that – any of it.” She lurched from his arms and scrambled off the bed, putting it between them. She staggered back widening the distance. “Tell me where my son is. I’ll go fetch him. They couldn’t’ve gone far.” Trembling, her voice was shrill and reedy. “I can fly now. I’m Queen. I don’t agree with this.”

  It no longer mattered. It was far too late. And no, she couldn’t fetch him back. It didn’t matter that she could fly. The Wastelands were closed to the Dragon Lords. The only crossing allowed was a direct route that connected the Fire Kingdom and Ice Realm. Outside of those parameters, the Battle Mages would hunt her down like an animal.

  “They wanted one.” The words tasted like ash in Koen’s mouth. “One to preserve the lives of many.”

  Her demand was a scream, “Where is he?”

  “Gone.” Voice gruff, Koen battled his guilt. His soulful eyes reddened. Pain for the loss of Boy shredded his soul, but Marina’s grief was much worse than he imagined. “They took him at dawn. By now they are in the Barren and hidden. The Mages survive by hiding.”

  Her expression lost all tension. She swayed before locking her limbs in place. “Did Mikhail know this was happening?”

  “Yes.”

  The knife twisted deeper. “Cathryn?”

  “She tried to hold them off but she has no power here.” Koen did not know why he defended the woman. Maybe it was so he had something good to say. “She spoke passionately on your behalf but the Eldernmoot were unmoved.”

  Marina scoffed a laugh that turned into a pained rasp. “Why didn’t Daniil....” Her chin dropped, and her shoulders hunched. “Of course he knew. Of course he did. I bet he was the one pushing it.” She exhaled slowly. “Uncle Sevastyan? Is that why he’s not here?”