Shadowspire (Wytch Kings, Book 3)
Page 25
Jaire read, and sensed Vayne’s surprise as he scanned the documents over Jaire’s shoulder. When they got to the last page, Vayne looked up at Garrik, eyes shining. “Royal Dragon Master? I don’t think that’s a real position.”
“It is now,” Garrik said. “If you truly mean to help us add a contingent of dragon shifters to the army of the Northern Alliance, I shall need someone to command it.”
“I will do my best to prove myself worthy of such an honor, Your Majesty,” Vayne said. “My only request is that Ambris be allowed to work at my side. We worked well together at Shadowspire, and if Ambris assists me with the transformations, we can minimize the risk to the soldiers.”
Master Ristan handed Vayne the traditional quill dipped in ink that was used for official documents. He signed his name with a flourish and handed the quill to Jaire, who signed the betrothal agreement with a far lighter heart than he’d ever imagined he would.
* * *
The reading of the betrothal agreement was saved for the end of Court, and was every bit as boring as Jaire guessed it would be. He and Vayne had to stand in front of everyone while Master Ristan read the entire document — save the parts about the still-secret dragon-shifter army — to the assembled Court. The advisor’s droning voice took Jaire right back to his own lessons, and he found himself swaying on his feet.
Garrik, standing beside him, grinned down at him, and they both rolled their eyes at the same moment, as they often had during lessons.
Miraculously, everyone was still standing when Master Ristan finally wound down. The Court burst into a noisy round of applause, and Jaire wondered whether it was the betrothal itself, or the end of Master Ristan’s reading of it, that they were so pleased about.
When Garrik finally dismissed the Court, Jaire sagged against Vayne, more than ready to escape the public eye. As they stood on the dais waiting for their turn to leave, a woman’s voice called, “Jaire! Prince Jaire!”
He looked up to see Lady Bria approaching, followed by a lanky woman who was dressed in the uniform of Altan’s guardsmen. Bria climbed right up on the dais and threw her arms around Jaire.
“Thank you,” she breathed.
“For what?” Jaire asked. “You’re not going to be marrying a prince anymore.”
“No, but I am going to marry the love of my life,” she said with a radiant smile. “Prince Jaire, may I present Wyndra. She’s been offered a position here as assistant weapons master, and Uncle Ord has given me permission to stay here with her.”
Jaire clasped arms with Wyndra, who was both taller and more muscular than he was. “Thank you, Your Highness,” she said, bowing. “Words can never express how much we appreciate all you’ve done for us.”
“But… I haven’t really done anything,” Jaire said.
“You told your brother of our plight,” Bria said, “and he appealed to Uncle Ord, and suggested that if Ord didn’t agree, relations between Altan and Irilan might become strained.”
Jaire raised his eyebrows. “I can’t imagine that went down well.”
“Uncle Ord was fit to be tied until your brother calmly suggested he could marry Prince Vayne off and achieve the same end.”
“That’s Ilya’s influence,” Jaire said, shaking his head. “Garrik would never have come up with anything like that before Ilya showed up.”
Bria pulled Jaire aside, and said in a low voice, “Your brother also spoke to me of Altan’s need for an heir, and asked if I might be willing to assist him in the making of one. I’ve told him I would, if he would be willing to father a child for Wyndra and me to raise, as well. He seemed amenable to the idea, so you needn’t worry about that, either.”
Jaire’s face burned, and Bria gave him a smile and leaned in to kiss his cheek. She and Wyndra drifted off, arms around one another, and Jaire watched them go, smiling. “An epidemic of royal weddings, indeed,” he murmured to Vayne.
“Speaking of which,” Vayne said, “I suppose you’re going to make me wait until we’re married before I’m allowed to ravish you again?”
Jaire gave him a sly, sideways look. “If you don’t mind, I’d rather not discuss that in public, Prince Vayne. However, if you’d like to come to my suite when we’ve finished here, I have a rather interesting book you might like to examine.”
Vayne’s eyes heated, and he nodded soberly. “I should like very much to examine your… book, Your Highness. And anything else you have to show me.”
“Excellent,” Jaire said with a leer. “I think I shall have the kitchen send up some biscuits and… and strawberry jam to… to fortify us.”
Vayne grinned and put an arm around him, and they followed the two Wytch Kings out of the Grand Hall.
* * *
Jaire swooped low over the Blue River, which marked Altan’s southern border with the kingdom of Ysdrach. He extended his mythe-senses out at far as they could reach and scanned the scrubby forestland below.
Vayne glided down to join him.
As the foothills of the Dragon’s Spine flew by beneath his opalescent wings, Jaire followed an air current that looked like a river of orange and gold, riding it high into the sky and then picking up a stream of green and yellow that carried him over the mountains in a steady glide. The view was breathtaking, as he’d always imagined it would be.
Having his own wings gave him a sense of freedom he’d never dreamed he’d experience. Riding on Garrik’s back for short distances had been a grand adventure, but at the end of it, he always had to return to the ground. Being able to shift into dragon form himself was the most impossible dream, somehow come true.
He didn’t think he’d ever tire of flight.
Jaire snorted. He glanced up at the sun. They’d just make it back in time for dinner if they started back now.
Jaire mused.
He dove, gaining speed, then swooped low over the ground and caught a cherry-red updraft, riding it as high as he could before executing the fancy, looping maneuver he’d perfected just that morning.
Vayne’s voice was a gentle caress in his mind, carried on a warm wave of affection.
Jaire performed another fancy loop before pulling up next to Vayne. In perfect unison,
the two dragons turned east, toward Castle Altan. With the sun glinting off of his emerald-green scales, Vayne was every bit as beautiful as he claimed Jaire was, and Jaire’s heart swelled at the thought that very soon, he would marry this man.
Not even the prospect of impending war could dim his exuberance. He was a dragon, and he was in love. With a happy cry of triumph, he sped up and passed Vayne, laughing as his lover poured on speed to catch up with him.
~ The End ~
Also by Jaye McKenna
Wytch Kings
Book 1: Burn the Sky
Book 2: Blackfrost
Book 3: Shadowspire
(coming soon)
Middle Kingdoms
Leythe Blade
Guardians of the Pattern
Prequel: Facing the Mirror
Book 1: Psi Hunter
Book 2: Gremlin’s Last Run
Book 3: Ghost in the Mythe
Book 4: Wildfire Psi
Book 5: Eye of the Storm
Book 6: Closing the Circle
(coming 2017)
See complete list at
www.jayemckenna.com
Closing the Circle
Guardians of the Pattern, Book 6
A storm is coming.
Miko foresaw it. Vaya called it. Now Cam must deal with the aftermath, the echoes of which will irrevocably change the lives of the psions he protects.
Director Cameron Asada is responsible for the safety of every psion affiliated with the Institute for Psionic Research. After a psionic storm destroys an industrial installation and takes lives, anti-psion sentiment spreads across the Federation like wildfire. The last thing Cam needs is for an all-too-intriguing figure from his past to show up, drug-addicted and psi-damaged.
Draven has made dangerous enemies during his career as an assassin. After being betrayed by the man he’s devoted his life to, Draven is striking out on his own, leaving a trail of death and destruction in his wake.
When Draven seeks him out on Aurora, Cam knows that sheltering him is asking for trouble. But there’s a life between them, and Draven has the skills Cam needs to protect his people from an increasingly hostile government. Can Cam convince Draven to help him save the Institute? Or is everything he’s worked for destined to go up in flames?
Closing the Circle is the sixth and final book in the Guardians of the Pattern series.
Acknowledgments
Thanks for helping shape this story go to my awesome team of beta readers: Kate, Tully, Eric, and Michael. Special thanks to Jill for help with the final polishing steps, and an extra shout-out to Tristin’s fairy godmother, Kate. Without her, he would still be languishing in a disused corner of my brain.
And last, but by no means least, many thanks go to Chinchbug, for coming up with yet another awesome dragon cover.
Author Bio
Jaye McKenna was born a Brit and was dragged, kicking and screaming, across the Pond at an age when such vehement protest was doomed to be misinterpreted as a paddy. She grew up near a sumac forest in Minnesota and spent most of her teen years torturing her parents with her electric guitar and her dark poetry. She was punk before it was cool and a grown-up long before she was ready. Jaye writes fantasy and science fiction stories about hot guys who have the hots for each other. She enjoys making them work darn hard for their happy endings, which might explain why she never gets invited to their parties.
Contact Info
Jaye McKenna can be contacted at
jayemckenna@gmail.com
www.jayemckenna.com
Jaye can also be found on Goodreads
Chinchbug can be contacted at
raw.sloochy@gmail.com
Shadowspire
Wytch Kings, Book 3
Shy and bookish Prince Jaire of Altan is not particularly enthralled with the idea of marrying the simpering Lady Bria of Irilan, but Altan needs to renew its ties with the neighboring kingdom. For the sake of the alliance, Jaire is willing to do his duty, even if he would much rather marry a prince.
Sole survivor of the massacre now called the Irilan Rebellion, Prince Vayne of Irilan disappeared so long ago, no one even remembers his name. Trapped in the mythe to protect a secret that could change the balance of power in Skanda, Vayne has been fighting to retain his sanity for centuries.
When Jaire sees the ghost of a handsome young man dressed in fashions centuries old, he fears he might be losing his mind. But the ghost proves to be far more than a restless spirit, and might just hold the key to Altan’s future, as well as the key to Jaire’s heart.