by Tessa Dawn
Dragons Reign
Volume II in the Dragons Realm Saga
Tessa Dawn
Published by Ghost Pines Publishing, LLC
Volume II of the Dragons Realm Saga by Tessa Dawn
First Edition eBook Published February 18, 2018
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Copyright © Tessa Dawn, 2017 All rights reserved
ISBN-13: 978-1-937223-26-7
Printed in the United States of America
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Author may be contacted at: http://www.tessadawn.com
This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this novel are either fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Ghost Pines Publishing, LLC
Contents
Credits and Acknowledgments
THE DRAGONS REALM
Introduction
I. PART ONE
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
II. PART TWO
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
III. PART THREE
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
A Sneak Peek from Zanaikeyros
Also by Tessa Dawn
Join the Mailing List
About the Author
Credits and Acknowledgments
Ghost Pines Publishing, LLC, Publishing
Damonza.com, Cover Art
Reba Hilbert, Editing
Quotes
“If all men were just, there would be no need of valor.” ~ Agesilaus, Spartan king (444 BC–360 BC) From Agesilaus quotes
When asked why Sparta lacked fortifications, King Agesilaus pointed to his men: “These are Sparta's walls.” ~ On Sparta by Plutarch, Spartan quotes
“Pale Death beats equally at the poor man’s gate and at the palaces of kings.” ~ Horace
To all those who have risen from life’s ashes to conquer their demons…
THE DRAGONS REALM
In a land as ancient as time itself, there were those who were born to protect the Realm, to rule over commoners, shadow-walkers, and warlocks alike, and those who were born to serve the rulers with blind obedience. The former carried the primordial blood of the Dragon in their veins; the latter bore the burden of a dragon’s desires—his hunger, fire lust, and passion.
It was a sacred duty.
An elemental obligation.
They were chosen females, taken from their homes at the tender age of twelve, reared by strangers at the Keep, and trained to serve, obey, and feed their masters in order to keep the dragons strong.
A select few, the Sklavos Ahavi, were singled out for an even greater purpose: to bear the future sons of a dragon’s line. To wed the ferocious beings who were so deceptively human in outer form, yet primal, dark, and wild at the core.
The Ahavi were servants who belonged to their dragon lords.
The shadow-walkers and warlocks were reluctant subjects who resented their dominant masters. The commoners were humans who lived in fear of all that inhabited the Realm.
And the dragons…
Well, they were a species apart—and above—all others.
Introduction
Dragons Realm takes place in the month of May, during the 175th year of the Dragonas’ Reign, the season of the diamond king. Dragons Reign begins in June, during the 206th year of the Dragonas’ Reign, also season of the diamond king. During the thirty-one years that transpire between stories, the Realm, as well as the country of Lycania—the perilous domain of long-lived shifters across the restless sea—enjoy a tentative truce and a season of relative peace.
In addition, Prince Drake Dragona continues to rule Castle Commons with his Sklavos Ahavi, Tatiana Ward, whom he has gifted with immortality, and the Malo Clan giants are mostly in check.
Mostly, but not all.
There is still a covert faction, embittered by their distant history of slavery, who would like to receive reparations and who grow ever restless in the Realm.
Prince Damian Dragona, who is inhabited by the soul of Matthias Gentry, continues to rule Castle Umbras with Mina Louvet at his side as they raise Dante and Mina’s three children: Aurelio (also known as Ari), Azor, and Asher. All three dragon sons are now grown, and Mina has also been gifted with immortality.
Finally, Prince Dante Dragona, next in line for the throne of Castle Dragon, continues to rule Castle Warlochia with Cassidy Bondeville as his “public” Sklavos Ahavi—but she is anything but his consort in private. Nonetheless, they are raising Dario Dragona as their own flesh and blood, despite the fact that he was sired during Cassidy’s illicit affair with King Demitri. In the thirty-one years that have passed, Dante has come to honor, admire, and respect his ward, Dario—he loves him like a son, and Dario knows nothing of his secret paternity.
Alas, there is the not-so-small matter of the prophecy: “Three children; three decades; three lads with green eyes.”
All have come to pass.
And now, book number two in the Dragons Realm Saga: DRAGONS REIGN.
I
PART ONE
DRAGONS RULE
“If all men were just, there would be no need of valor.”
~ Agesilaus, Spartan king
Prologue
Dracos Cove ~ Royal Camp of Umbras The 26th day of May in the 175th year of the Dragonas’ Reign, the season of the diamond king
Elzeron Griswold, a powerful, ancient shade—a soul-eater from a long line of prominent shadows—dashed out of the royal tent of Umbras, erected on the beach of Dracos Cove, and fought mightily not to retch.
What he had just witnessed in that royal tent was blasphemous, seditious, and unholy.
What he had just taken part in would likely cost him his life.
At best, Prince Dante Dragona would scrub his mind of memory, leaving him to amble through life as a simpleton, devoid of all his finely honed powers. At worst, the fearsome prince would take his life before the next sunset. After all, the sovereign prince was complicit in the crime—noble monarch or not.
As impossible as it was to believe, Prince Dante had slain his younger brother, Prince Damian Dragona. He had beheaded the dragon over a Sklavos Ahavi. And then he
had sought the assistance of a warlock and a shade: of Aguilon Jomei, one of only seven members of the Warlock’s Council on Supreme Magic and Mystical Practices, and Elzeron Griswold.
The prince had drained the blood from his half-brother, Matthias Gentry, a soul who was thought to be a commoner when he was actually King Demitri’s son, and bid Elzeron to inhale Matthias’ essence without consuming the same: to hold it gently, like a newborn babe, in Elzeron’s mystical lungs. And then—Great Nuri, God of Fire—and then…he had ordered the shadow-walker to exhale the contents into Damian Dragona’s body so that Aguilon, the warlock, could resurrect the same.
Blasphemy.
Sedition.
Unholy necromancy.
Yet, Elzeron had obeyed his sovereign prince.
He had watched as Dante reattached Damian’s severed head, utilizing the power of blue fire; he had waited as the prince placed the bodies of his siblings side by side and expunged the commoner’s life; and he had exhaled the full contents of Matthias’ soul deep into the corpse of the prince of Umbras.
Just as Dante had commanded.
What the imperious prince did not understand—or know—was that Elzeron was more than an ancient. He was more than a powerful shade. He was a dark, ethereal demi-god in his own wicked right, and he could perform feats of unconscionable skill.
He could mold the souls of men like malleable clay; he could fold them over like fine, thin parchment; he could inhale them, flick them about on his tongue to taste them, and turn them over without swallowing. Oh yes, Prince Dante had been quite correct: Elzeron could inhale Matthias’ soul and hold it. He could place it into the dead prince’s body without consuming a single drop. But he could also perform another maneuver—and that is precisely what Elzeron had done.
While preparing to expel the contents of one soul into the body of another, Elzeron had inhaled a second time: He had taken Prince Damian’s soul, hid it inside his nostrils, and breathed the essence of Matthias into the waiting body, using only his diaphragm as the pump. In other words, he had done exactly what his prince had asked—he had delivered the soul of Matthias Gentry into the body of Damian Dragona, but he had kept the evil prince’s spirit for himself.
As a long-lived shadowmancer, a particularly skilled practitioner of shadows and souls, Elzeron had been aware enough to register something Prince Dante Dragona had spoken, yet overlooked: The soul of a dragon could not return to its maker unless the body was burned. And since they could not burn Damian’s body—it was needed for the resurrection—the moment Matthias’ soul superseded Damian’s, the evil prince’s ghost would have wandered the earth forever.
Elzeron had stolen it instead.
And now, he didn’t have a second to waste.
The soul of the gods-forsaken prince, the wicked spawn of King Demitri, was rotting inside his nostrils, destroying his fragile flesh from the inside out. He needed to release it and seal it in an airtight vessel before it putrefied his brain.
Ducking into the first makeshift tent he passed by, Elzeron tore apart the bedchamber with haste: upending sheets, tossing clothes aside, and barreling through a plain wooden chest. At last, he came upon an empty stoneware jug, most likely used to store ale, with a plain earthen lid atop. Stretching his neck and expanding his diaphragm, he began to writhe in pain. His nostrils flared open, and he pressed his open muzzle against the mouth of the waiting flask. And then he began to heave. Thick black smoke—viscous, slimy, and inky—streamed out of his twitching nostrils, until all that was expelled from his nasal cavity gathered at the base of the container. He quickly sealed the contents, wrapped a leather tie around the jug, and stuffed it inside of his satchel, tucking it under his arm. Then he spun around, fell to his knees, and vomited until he almost sprained a muscle.
Yet and still, he wasn’t through.
He crawled like a babe across the floor, searching once more for some parchment and a quill—he had to record what he had seen, what he had done—he had to save it for posterity.
For surely, Prince Dante Dragona was coming, and Elzeron would be no more.
Just the same, his own young son, Eliaz, who was just on the verge of adolescence—the one he had fathered with an unwilling peasant—would treasure this last, parting gift. Eliaz could save it until it was useful, and hopefully, if the fates were merciful, it would one day bring the lad power…
Glory.
Leverage.
And riches.
A testament to his father’s infamous prowess. One last treasure to bequeath: the soul of a murdered dragon prince, sealed in a common earthen jug.
Chapter One
Castle Warlochia ~ Thirty-one years later Present Day
Prince Dante Dragona maintained a heavy silence next to his two royal brothers—Prince Drake and Prince Damian—as the three dragon males sauntered through the lavish royal gardens at Castle Warlochia.
He was trying to collect his thoughts.
Finally, when the silence had grown too thick to bear, he cleared his throat and slowed his pace. “Thank you for coming to Warlochia on such short notice. As Cassidy is away, shopping in the city, and Dario isn’t expected to return from Lycania until tomorrow morn, with Princess Gaia at his side, I felt this was an appropriate time to meet in private. That we could consort with discretion, speak with candor, beyond the reach of curious ears.”
Prince Drake nodded cordially, and Prince Damian glanced at him askance, but nether male uttered a reply. Undoubtedly, they could sense Dante’s tension, his rising vexation, and his need to share something of great significance—they could feel the weight of the moment hovering all around them like a dark, looming cloud.
The eldest prince sighed, linked his hands behind his back, and stopped walking. Turning to face Drake and Damian squarely, he furrowed his brow. “It is time to speak of that which we never mention: the prophecy, the omen, the fact that I have come of age.” Before either one could interject, show concern, or begin asking questions, he continued: “Three sons, three decades, three great deceptions—all have come to pass, save the latter, and I’m certain this Sunday will qualify as such.” Drake opened his mouth to speak, and Dante silenced him with the wave of his hand. “I know that I told you, each of you, that I wanted to wait until you had also come of age—three fully mature dragons are far more powerful than one—but I’ve seen the white owl in my dreams every night for a week, and I have a horrible sense of foreboding. The transfer of power, the succession of thrones can no longer wait. The Realm is growing restless, and since all will be gathered at Castle Dragon on Sunday to celebrate Asher’s twenty-first birthday, I plan to fulfill the prophecy then. It is time to remove our father from Castle Dragon’s throne and to place Dario in my stead at Castle Warlochia.”
Damian visibly blanched. “At Asher’s twenty-first gala, with all assembled in the royal hall? Dante…” His voice grew thick with caution. “You do realize that as of this afternoon, Asher still believes he’s my son; he still names you as Uncle. And that is to say nothing of Ari and Azor, who also believe the same. If I recall, the prophecy was clear: The three children are the three sides of the triangle, the three legs on which you will stand—on which you will rise—yet they don’t even know who you are. If you expect them to go to Castle Dragon with you, to be revealed to the Realm as your sons, they may need some time to make the adjustment, to process and assimilate the facts.”
At this, Prince Drake chimed in. “And don’t forget Prince Dario, returning to the Realm on the morrow. He loves you; he reveres you; he believes he is your only son, that once you succeed King Demitri, he is next in line. The balance of power in the Realm will shift, inconceivably—have you truly thought this through?”
Dante pinched his nose at the bridge, and hung his head in exhaustion. The whole damn thing was so convoluted…
Thirty-one years earlier, their father, King Demitri, had given a Sklavos Ahavi, along with a royal province, to each of his three dragon sons. He had given the commonl
ands and Tatiana Ward to Prince Drake; the territory of Umbras and Mina Louvet to Prince Damian; and Castle Warlochia, along with Cassidy Bondeville, to Dante, his eldest living heir.
But that was before Dante’s treachery.
That was before Dante had committed an unthinkable act of treason on the sands of Dracos Cove—that was before he had murdered his brother Damian and placed the soul of Matthias Gentry into Damian’s butchered corpse, resurrecting the body with the help of a soul-eater and a warlock. That was before he had fathered three sons with Mina—Ari, Azor, and Asher—and allowed Damian—Matthias—to raise them as his own.
And that was before he had discovered that Cassidy was pregnant from an illicit dalliance with the king, that she was carrying Prince Dario in her womb and planning to pass him off as Dante’s offspring, as his first—and presumably only—son.
Since then, Damian had remained at Castle Umbras with Mina, both of them aware of the ruse, and Dante had visited when he could, bonded with his children as their uncle, and bided his time until the omen could be fulfilled. All the while, Matthias Gentry—in the body of Prince Damian Dragona—had played his auspicious part, assuming the role of the prince of Umbras and using Damian’s memories, training, and aptitudes as a complement to his own tempered soul to bring prosperity to the region…and to control the wicked shades. He had hidden his love for Mina’s sister, Raylea, far from prying eyes, even though Raylea felt the same for Prince Damian. It was a matter of decency and honor: Raylea believed that the male she loved was consort to her beloved sister, sire of her three cherished nephews, and though she never looked twice at any other suitor, she never pursued her feelings for Damian. She allowed the prince of Umbras to feed her dragons’ blood in order to slow her aging, to keep her youthful and in her prime…to buy her more time with Mina, who had long since been made immortal by Prince Dante, even as Damian took credit for the conversion.
